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[conituned]
CHAPTER EIGHT
I called home and told Mom where I was going to be and said I
should be home by seven and if I was going to be later I'd call again.
Then I queued up with the other kids in the faculty parking lot. I'd
expected a bunch of real dorky-looking characters, but most of them were
real cute. I didn't know any of them when I got there, but I knew all of
them by the time Ed showed up and loaded us all into the Microbus. It
was nice to be with a group of kids my age who were as bright as me and
as mature, especially since they were good-looking.
The house where Mr. Sautter -- Ed -- lived was a big two-storey
colonial. It was white and in another year it was going to need a coat
of paint. It was at the end of Eagle Point Road, right next to the
cemetery. Tall, tall hedges surrounded the entire plot. The yard was
enormous, easily an acre, and there was a good-sized in-ground pool.
We piled out of the Microbus and Ed showed us around the first
floor of the house and told us to make ourselves at home while he
changed. He went up the stairs and a couple of us wandered out through
the patio doors opening from the family room to the yard. The
furnishings in the house were what you'd expect of three bachelors on a
budget -- mid-Twentieth Century Catch-All.
Ed reappeared in cut-off jeans and a PEACE NOW tee-shirt and got us
started setting up lawn chairs and preparing the picnic table and the
barbecue grill. Susan, his friend, showed up about twenty minutes later.
She was real cute and real sexy -- and young. She was a senior at Toledo
University, which made her about twenty-one or twenty-two.
Susan was about five-foot-four, with dark brown hair cut in bangs
and light green eyes. She had a great face, a sprinkling of freckles, a
wide and sexy mouth with real soft lips, and a button nose. She was
slim, but curvy, too. She was wearing old faded jeans and a short-
sleeved blouse and if you looked at her, you couldn't figure out exactly
what it was about her that was sexy, but she was. The boys in our group
couldn't stop looking at her. I sneaked some peeks, myself.
She got the chicken barbecuing and we mixed up some punch and then
we all sat around and talked about what writing meant to us, what it
could be and how the group might work. It was nice. It was also getting
damn hot out in that afternoon sun and I started looking at the pool the
way I usually looked at George -- with longing.
Around four, we all dug into the chicken and a huge bowl of German
potato salad that had been lurking in the refrigerator. Barbecued
chicken is messy and we got it smeared all over our hands and faces. By
five, we were all feeling fat and lazy. Ed suggested another meeting a
couple of weeks later and then offered to drive home anyone who wanted a
lift.
"Leaving Guess Who with the cleanup," Susan muttered. She was
standing near me. I offered to stay and help. At first she said no, but
I explained that I wasn't expected home for a while and said if I could
use the phone, it would be no problem. And it wasn't.
As soon as the van pulled out of the driveway with its chicken-fed
cargo, Susan and I started gathering the debris. It really went a lot
faster with the two of us and we had done everything but wrap the
leftovers in Saranwrap within fifteen minutes. The kitchen had been
getting most of the late day sun and was awfully hot. Sweat was pouring
off us as we wrapped and stored. Susan told me how she and Ed had met.
She wasn't really in love with him, but she liked him an awful lot and
they had a lot of interests in common.
When the last drumstick was safely wrapped in plastic and ensconced
in the Kenmore refrigerator, Susan turned to me. Her blouse was
plastered to her by sweat. "I need a dip in the worst way."
"You and me both." My demure little white blouse had gotten pretty
sticky, too.
She grabbed my forearm and grinned mischievously. "Let's do it!"
"No suit." I grinned. "But you go ahead."
"We could skinny dip."
"Not this kid," I said. "All we need is some clown to come
wandering back to collect for the newspaper delivery or -- "
"You're right." She brightened. "I have a couple of suits here."
She must have seen the surprise in my face.
"Shoot, I spend enough time here, especially since it's gotten
warm. I'd be a dope not to have a couple of changes of clothes here."
She took both my arms in her hands, her fingers just above my elbows,
and held me at arm's length to appraise me. "Maybe. Come on."
I followed her saucy, denimed butt up to the second floor. She
opened the first door at the top of the stairs. "Ed's room," she said,
pausing. "It'll probably be a shambles."
It wasn't as bad as the bedroom Jeanne and I shared and I said so.
Still, it was a mess. She pulled a small duffel bag from the closet --
also a mess -- and put it on the bed. She began excavating. Three two-
piece suits appeared. She examined them. "What size bra do you wear?"
"Uncomfortable."
She wiggled her fingers at me. "Give."
"I should wear a 27-B -- "
"A what -- Oh. Well -- " She was holding a blue halter that tied in
the back. It was little more than a piece of rubbery blue cloth with
straps and a string. "Let's try this. You're not shy, are you?"
I barely suppressed a laugh. "Not so you'd notice." I stepped out
of my jumper and stripped off my knee-high regulation white socks, then
unbuttoned my blouse. It had really gotten soaked and it felt good to
have it off.
Susan was staring at me, her jeans opened and her blouse
unbuttoned. "Oh, you poor kid." Her gaze was focused on my breasts.
"That must be so uncomfortable."
Her saying it made me aware of it -- an awareness that was doubled
by relief when I removed the pre-deb bra that was the only thing I could
find as small as 27 inches. Of course, it was designed for a kid wearing
a bra more for practice than need.
My breasts, freed, swelled out from their unnatural constriction.
There were red marks where the bra cut into them. I rubbed the welts
absently. I nodded ruefully in response to her remark.
"Oh, you are so lovely," she said, surveying my panty-clad form.
"Your breasts are absolutely perfect." She peeled off her blouse and was
half-naked before me.
"You've got nothing to complain about," I said. And it was true.
Her breasts were firm and conical and she had really big aureoles and
her nipples looked like they could get very thick and prominent. She
sighed and stripped off her jeans and panties and selected a red-and-
green striped two-piece. I noticed that her cunt hair was very short and
looked like it had been trimmed.
She spotted the direction of my gaze and laughed -- almost giggled,
in fact. "Ed likes -- " She caught herself. "I'm sorry. Looking at you
and listening to you, it's easy to forget you're just a kid in Catholic
school and -- Well, I didn't mean to offend you."
I stared her right in the eye and said, "There's a difference
between 'young' and 'kid.' I'm young, sure, but I'm not a little kid.
I've done some stuff."
"'Stuff'?"
"With guys. Lots of stuff."
She arched an eyebrow.
"Everything."
The other eyebrow went up. I nodded.
She reached into her duffel bag and withdrew a squeeze-bottle of
skin lotion. "For those marks."
I nodded, thinking she was changing the subject. I held out my
hand.
"Let me," she said, squeezing some of the lotion into her hand. She
put the bottle down and then rubbed her hands together, sharing and
spreading the lotion. I watched her face as she stepped close to me.
"Let me," she repeated.
I nodded and she began massaging the slippery lotion into the sides
of my tits, where the pre-deb bra had left its marks. Her fingers were
gentle and her touch was sure as she spread and massaged the lotion into
my sensitive, firm young breasts.
"Tell me, Marie," she said, her face a foot from mine. "Have you
ever done anything with a woman?"
I shook my head, but added: "I've done everything you can think of
with girls."
"Did you like it?"
"Yes."
"Oh...I was hoping you'd say that," she said and then she bent her
head and kissed me on the mouth. I opened my mouth to her and our
tongues met. Her wonderful hands never stopped caressing my breasts. My
hands got busy, too. I rested my fingers on her butt for a moment and
then started stroking her ass cheeks.
She took her mouth off mine for a moment and said, "The bed."
As if she could read my mind.
I let her dance me a couple of steps backward and the edge of the
bed hit the back of my legs. She half-turned me and we fell on the
rumpled sheet with our arms around each other. Her breasts were at eye-
level for me. I'd been right about her nipples -- they'd gotten very
prominent. The nozzles were about a half-inch long or more and they were
very thick. They just begged to be kissed, so that's what I did.
"Oh, yes, honey, do that," she whispered, so I did it some more,
moving my mouth from one firm, pointy breast to the other and back
again. I started sucking her nipples and she rolled onto her back. I
rolled on top of her, still sucking, and put my hands on the outer
swells of each firm, college-girl cone. Her nipples had swelled still
more and she was moaning and moving slowly, sensuously beneath me. Her
hands never stopped moving, caressing my face, my shoulders, reaching
down to cup my tits and squeeze them a little. When she traced her
forefinger around my lips as I sucked one of her nipples, I felt a surge
of excitement go through me.
I flicked my tongue rapidly back and forth over the nipple in my
mouth and she arched her hips. "Bite it," she begged. "Bite my nipple."
I closed my teeth carefully over that turgid nozzle and gently
chewed it, my tongue continually moving over the tip. She gasped loudly
and her hips began an unmistakable fucking motion. I continued my mouth
work on the nipple and pinched the other nipple with my thumb and
forefinger. Her hips moved more urgently and when I began to twist the
other nipple, she came. She arched her back, her legs wide and her cunt
jabbing at the ceiling. Then she froze and fell back, groaning.
"Let's lick each other, honey -- now!" she said. She guided my hips
back and up, settling my legs on either side of her head. I lowered my
cunt on her mouth and she introduced me to the pleasures that a
thoroughly experienced woman can lavish on another woman. I'd never
experienced anything quite like what she was doing. Susan had a way of
sucking my entire cunt into her mouth and then running the tip of her
tongue over my labia and clit so the moist muscle barely grazed my
swollen flesh. Thirty seconds of that and I was flowing like a stream,
ready to cum.
I ducked my head down and began licking the insides of her thighs
and the edges of her neatly trimmed pussy hair. Her cunt lips were very
long and swollen. I took each one in my mouth and sucked on it and
licked it and then let my teeth gently close on it. She groaned against
my cunt and slowed her tongue's movements to a tantalizing,
excruciatingly pleasurable caress.
When I turned my attention to her clitoris, she got really wild. If
I was flowing like a stream, she was a river. The juices just kept
coming out of her pussy till I wondered for a moment if it was cunt
juice or piss -- but a taste answered my question. Her feet were flat on
the bed and her legs were wide apart...and so were her labia. Her pussy
gaped at me and I could see it pulsing inside when I sucked the swollen
little grain of her clitoris.
"Put your fingers in me, honey!" she wailed softly. "Get me off!"
As she spoke, she was reaching around my hips and using her fingers to
open the tight clam of my cunt. She started licking the inner flesh of
my cunt lips. The pleasure was washing over me in long, gentle waves,
undulating orgasms that rocked my little body back and forth.
I put two fingers inside her and there was plenty of room, so I
added another. Her movements on my cunt and under my lips said she liked
that and there seemed to be more room, so I put another finger in her
cunt, filling it. I worked my four fingers in and out as far as they'd
go and she moaned against my pussy and shook beneath me. I felt her cunt
spasm on my fingers and knew she was cumming. I was ready to stop.
She wasn't.
"Put them all in there, honey! Please," she cried. "Put your whole
hand in me!"
My hand? Well, I was small and she certainly had a big hole and she
was wet enough and I figured she knew what she was doing, so I worked my
thumb into her cunt, too, and started moving my hand back and forth.
"Push it in -- all the way! Please!"
I pushed at her and she pushed at me and my hand slid inside much
more easily than I'd have expected. When my wrist was caught in her
cunt, she clamped down on me and came, hard, and then started revolving
her hips and fucking at my hand. I couldn't keep my mouth on her clit
anymore, so I just did what I could while she kept licking and sucking
all the exposed pink flesh of my pussy.
I wiggled my fingers inside of her and she came again, even harder,
and then she sobbed at me from between my legs: "Please, honey -- make a
f-fist in me!"
I was game for anything at that point, so I made the fist and she
got crazy.
"Ohhh, yeah, pump me with it! Fuck me with it!"
I did as she'd asked, working my hard, clenched little fist in her
sopping twat. She came and came, going rigid under me, then turned
slippery and sinuous as an eel as she bucked. Her cunt was tightening
around my hand and it took real effort to continue, but she kept
yelling, louder and louder, "Pump me with it -- oh yeah! Fuck me harder
-- oh, yeah!"
Finally, I pushed my fist in as far as I could, till she had my
fist, wrist and a third of my forearm in her, and then I began twisting
my hand inside her and then she just plain lost it. She shrieked into my
cunt so loud I thought the sound would come out of my ears and she came
and came and came, like for more than a minute.
When she finally relented, she whispered, "Now take it out real
slow, just like -- oh yeah!"
I pulled my invading hand out of her slowly and carefully and every
inch or so, she'd shiver and have a little orgasm. When my fist came
out, even her big pussy was stretched around my hand. Then it came out
and with it came a regular flood of juice. She grunted and hunched her
hips and literally expelled a gush of sauces a few inches into the air.
She lay back, spread-eagled, and panted and shook. Her nipples looked
ready to burst.
I crawled up next to her and she pulled me into her arms.
"Honey, that was so good," she said. "I love being stuffed like
that."
"I loved the way you were licking me," I answered. She kissed me,
depositing some of my own juices on my mouth.
"You have such a sweet, tight little cunt, so smooth and tasty --
mmmmm!" She licked her lips and then mine. "I could eat your pretty
little pussy all day!"
"Okay by me!"
She laughed and kissed me again. Our breathing was returning to
normal.
"I couldn't believe how easy it was to get my hand in you," I told
her.
"I've always had a big pussy and over the years, I've enlarged it
by putting, uh, big things in it. There just aren't many men who can
fill me the way I like." She ran her hand over my ass and beyond to run
a finger over my cunt. "You're so lucky to have such a tight pussy --
anyone's cock must fill you!"
I shrugged. "Some more than others."
"I know what you mean. One man usually can't keep me happy unless
he's really big. Fortunately, I've learned to enjoy a pretty woman -- or
girl -- " She kissed me on the tip of my nose. "But right now I've found
someone who can really fill me up."
"Ed."
She shook her head. "No, Ed's about average, a little less. I mean
Bill."
"Bill?"
"One of Ed's roommates. He's got a dick on him like a horse, almost
a foot long and thick as your wrist."
"What if Ed finds out about you and Bill?"
"Finds out? Honey, he knows. Sometimes I suck him while Bill is in
me or he packs my butt while I ride Bill." She closed her eyes and
shivered. "You can't imagine what that's like!"
"I don't have to imagine it," I said.
Her eyes opened suddenly. "You got sandwiched in that little pussy
and that little bitty ass?" She plainly didn't believe me.
I told her about the previous summer at Kelly's Island. When I was
done, she was obviously turned on again. "All those hard young teenage
dicks, never tiring, just one after the other..." She had one hand over
her pussy, playing with her clit. "....one after the other in that sweet
little nooky of yours --- ahhhh!" she shivered and came. She caught her
breath and said, "I'd have given anything to watch that. I love to
watch, too. Even myself. That turns me on so much! Ed shot some eight
millimeter film of Bill and me and then another time with Bill and me
and these two guys we picked up in a bar. One of them had a cock so fat
I couldn't get my hand around it, must've been two-and-a-half inches,
but not real long. He filled my cunt real good. Bill fucked my ass while
I sat on that fat dong. I felt like I had a horse in me! Oh, did I cum!"
We lay there for a few more minutes, then got showered and cleaned
up. We washed each other; that was fun. We got downstairs just as Ed
returned.
We chatted and hung out for a little while. Susan announced she was
going for a swim and went upstairs. We watched her and I remembered her
naked body next to me and under me and it turned me on. She was so lithe
and quick when she dove, she was like a water sprite. While she was in
the pool, Duane -- the third roommate -- came home and a few minutes
later Bill arrived. Bill was real handsome and really smooth and looked
really good in his summer-weight suit. I would've gotten wet looking at
him even if I hadn't known what he had camped between his legs. It was
easy to imagine him and Susan getting it on. I wanted to see that.
Ed drove me home and invited me to come out again anytime. He said
he thought Susan liked me. I told him we seemed to get along.
CHAPTER NINE
George's brother, on leave for the weekend, was home visiting his
family and soon-to-be-fiancee, so his entire family from all over Ohio
and Michigan was gathered there. That pretty much tied George up for the
weekend. What I didn't know was that in Michigan, he had this third- or
fourth-cousin about his own age who was a real beauty. Apparently, it
was love at first sight. But I didn't find out about that till later.
Anyhow, I was at loose ends. I kept thinking about what Susan had
told me and what we'd done together and kept getting hornier and
hornier. Dad had been working midnights, which put him in a great mood
to begin with, and he was off on a tirade because two of the other guys
had been poring through some girlie magazines in the lunch room. Dad was
raving about how those types of magazines shouldn't be allowed and so on
and so forth. On Saturday morning, Jeanne and I were sitting at the
kitchen table -- this was around nine o'clock -- looking through
Teenbeat or somesuch and Dad, who had just gotten home from work about a
half-hour before, was stalking around raving and holding forth. Mom just
sighed and tried to humor him and gave him another beer, probably hoping
to sedate him. Jeanne and I finally got so tired of it that we went to
our room to fix each other's hair and ended up sucking each other's
nipples and playing Yellow Pages.
Which somehow only made me hornier.
And then, at half-past two, I got the phone on the second ring --
just ahead of Jeanne.
"Hi!"
"Hi, yourself, Susan," I said.
"We're going to have a little pool party. Interested?"
"I sure am. This place is dead."
"I'll pick you up in a half-hour. Bye!"
Well Mom, being Mom in every sense of the word, insisted that I
should bring some food with me. By the time Susan arrived, she had
concocted about eight pounds of her patented Killer Onion & Tobasco &
Sour Cream Dip. I know it sounds disgusting, but it was great. Susan
thought it was terrific and yelled her thanks from the window of the
five-year-old Rambler.
Old blankets were spread across the seats because the Rambler had
been sitting out in the sun. Susan was wearing cutoff jeans -- the legs
were frayed -- and a tee-shirt emblazoned with the British flag. the
colors were faded from frequent washings. I was wearing similar shorts
and an oversized Mets tee-shirt left behind by my phantom step-brother
on his last visit. Under it I was wearing the top of Alexis' swimsuit;
I'd filched it from the bitch.
While we waited for the light to turn onto Eagle Point, Susan had
something to say: "I told Ed what we did, Marie. I hope you're not mad."
I hadn't considered the possibility, but now that I thought about
it, I wasn't surprised. I told her so. And I asked her about his
reaction.
"He wants to watch." The light changed and we tooled up the steep
slope past the gas station and the grade school.
From the moment of her first revelation, I'd sort of guessed what
the answer would be -- at least some of it -- but I wasn't sure what I
was letting myself in for. I wanted Susan again and I wanted to see
Susan and Bill. I'd supposed something might happen with Ed but I knew
that there would never be too much I could do with Bill if he was as
well-hung as Susan described.
But what troubled me was who else might know. Susan and Ed and
probably Bill and Duane and did they have friends? And did their friends
have friends? I mean, Rossford wasn't -- still isn't -- very big and
word gets around fast. I mean, I was still going to be stuck there for a
few years -- five or six, anyhow -- and I didn't want every drunken
football squad to decide it had a right to use me.
"It's bothering you, isn't it?" she prompted.
"Ummmm...yes." I explained my misgivings.
"I understand. Well, we've had to be pretty discreet about our
ways, and we're careful who we tell stuff to. But if you're
uncomfortable with it, we can always just call it off?"
And I thought: What the hell? I was sick and tired of having
everyone else decide they had a right to tell me how to live and how to
behave. We weren't hurting anyone with what we did and no one was being
forced to do anything, so whose business was it? Ours -- period. And the
rest of the world was just going to have to deal with it.
[Remember when this was. A lot of people were doing and saying the
same thing and wit just about as much thought to the future and the
social implications and everything else. The Sexual Revolution was in
full swing -- excuse the pun -- the era of Free Love was just really
getting started.]
"Well, I want to do it," I told her. "And I want to see you doing
it with them, too."
She stopped t the four-way light, leaned over and kissed me on the
cheek. "Are you sure?"
"No -- but I want to do it."
"Oh, I was hoping you'd say that." She resumed driving and I
watched her big nipples press against the Union Jack tee-shirt.
A half-dozen cars were parked in the driveway in front of the
double-garage and along the road in front of the house. We unloaded the
car -- Susan had about fifteen pounds of chicken parts and miscellaneous
other supplies she'd picked up at the Kroger on her way to my house --
and went inside. Bill and another guy -- who Susan introduced as Louis
-- were washing and peeling some vegetables in the kitchen. Bill was
wearing big, baggy bermudas and no bulge was visible. Louis was a darkly
good-looking guy about twenty. He was shirtless and wearing tight
cutoffs. A significant bulge was in evidence.
Through the kitchen windows I could see eight or nine others in the
back. Some were sitting around the pool and two wee sunning themselves
on chaise lounges. Five of them were women. Duane wasn't out there, but
Ed was conversing with a stunning blonde in skintight short-short
cutoffs and a man-cut blouse that was mostly unbuttoned. She was
everyone's idea of a corn-fed cheerleader from the Midwest: five-foot-
six, honey blonde hair she could have sat on, a perfect and firm figure,
pretty, open face and -- I'd never seen this before -- one blue eye and
one green eye.
The eyes were not well-focused. Susan saw where I was looking and
when we went upstairs for her to change and me to strip to my mismatched
swimsuit, she explained.
"That's Bonnie," she said. "Louis brought her."
"She's beautiful!"
Susan's face disappeared as she pulled off her tee-shirt and
revealed her lovely breasts and magnificent nipples. "She's totally
fucked up, Marie. She'll go out with anyone who gives her drugs and
everyone who can get them will supply her, especially with Sunshine and
Chocolate, 'cause when she gets stoned she'll let anyone do anything
they want with her." She frowned. "She's going to burn herself out by
the time she's seventeen and she's going to get hurt."
"Maybe someone should talk to her."
Susan kissed me lightly on the forehead. "She's almost as sweet as
you, but she's got problems, hon. As soon as someone suggests she lay
off the shit, she starts screaming about being judgmental and repressive
and -- " She sighed. "She's going to have to see her way clear by
herself. Sometimes it's like that."
We went downstairs. Susan supervised the Kitchen Patrol and I went
straight for the pool.
The afternoon went quickly and then it was dusk and we wee all
mellow. I'd had a couple of beers and the place was emptying out. In the
course of the get-together, I guess about twenty people had been there,
with some leaving as others arrived. By the time sunset was past and the
pool lights were on, eight of us remained: Bill, Ed, Susan, Louis,
Bonnie -- who was thoroughly stoned by then -- and this Oriental couple
who were friends of Susan's from the University. They were nice, but
rather quiet and seemed quite conservative.
Bonnie hadn't been in the pool during the heat of the midday sun,
begging off because she said it took her hair forever to dry and was a
real pain in the ass to set. Now, though, she was letting herself be led
to the pool by Louis. Her blouse by now was completely unbuttoned. She
had the shirt-tails tied across her flat little midriff. And from the
way she was moving, she was stoned out of her mind. She suddenly pushed
Louis ahead of her, into the pool, then dived in with perfect,
effortless grace. She surfaced beyond him and he chased her, under the
water.
Bonnie suddenly shrieked and disappeared beneath the surface. About
ten seconds later, both of them surfaced. Louis was behind her and her
blouse was untied and his hands were feasting on her perfect, firm
breasts. She caught one of his hands in one of hers and pushed it down
over her stomach and beneath the surface of the water. From the way she
arched and leaned her head back against his shoulder, her ripe, red lips
offered, it was pretty obvious where his hand was and that it was
familiar territory.
The Oriental couple made polite noises and left.
Louis waved goodbye and Bonnie broke away. She swam to the deepest
part of the pool and shrugged off the blouse. Then she dove and when she
broke the surface again, she was holding over her head in one hand a
piece of wet, faded blue denim. She swung it a couple of times, then
hurled it toward Louis. It fell short and floated in the pool. "Come and
get it -- if you can!" she shrieked. Then she did a perfect tuck,
rolling her pale, tight little ass out of the water for a moment before
her legs came straight up and parted, exposing her fine, blonde pussy to
the stars and pool lights -- not to mention all of us -- before she slid
beneath the surface.
Louis swam clumsily toward her and dove, but by the time he came
up, she was at the shallow end, standing in hip deep water.
All of us were looking at her perfect, stoned, overheated
loveliness as she hoisted herself up and sat on the edge of the pool
apron.
Ed trotted by us and said a single word to Susan in passing:
"Neighbors."
"Shit!" she blurted and ran after him, motioning to Bill. Louis was
just reaching the place where Bonnie sat, perched.
"Get her inside!" Ed hissed. "The neighbors!"
"Damn!"
Susan and Bill each took and arm an dog-trotted her, all wet,
barely jiggling firm flesh and lithe young curves, to the patio doors.
Ed leaned down and helped Louis out of the pool. Somewhere along the
line, Louis had shed his shorts and his rapidly limpening -- but still
impressive -- erection was fading fast.
I stood there like a bump on a log, a half-gnawed crescent of
watermelon forgotten in my hand, till Ed turned at the door: "Coming
inside for the party?"
In for a dime, in for a dollar, I figured, and walked toward the
house.
By the time I'd gotten there, someone had dumped all the cushions
from the couch on the floor and covered them with those big beach
towels. Bonnie was laying, flat on her back, in the middle of two of
them, with her legs open and her knees wide. Her feet were flat on the
floor. She was holding her arms up to Louis and she was babbling,
"C'mon, come on and get next to me, get inside me, awww please ..."
Louis, being not nearly as stupid as he usually looked, was wasting
no time. He was kneeling next to her head. His dick was again swollen
and bobbing. He reached down with one hand and rubbed her nipples, then
ran his hand down to finger her cunt. She was so wet I could hear her
cunt suck his finger even over the noise of the drapes being pulled
across the patio doors.
Bonnie reached up and grabbed his dick. She pulled him down to her
face and sucked it into her mouth, arching her head back and up and
taking more and more of him till he was balls' deep in her face. He kept
working his finger in and out of her and she was hunching her hips up as
fast and demandingly as he was pushing his thick dick in and out between
her sweet lips.
"She has such a pretty pussy," Susan whispered. She'd come up to
stand behind me and was close enough that I felt her whisper on my ear.
She did indeed. "Lickable," I said.
"I'll bet it is."
"You've never -- ?"
"She isn't into it from women or men."
"You mean she doesn't like it?"
"Maybe you'll see." Susan's hand was resting on my arm, just above
the elbow. The scene was getting to me; my nipples were hard and Susan's
touch sent a chill through me. I felt the moisture beginning between my
legs.
I wasn't the only one it was getting to. Ed and Bill were rubbing
their cocks through their clothes. In Bill's case, that was a lot of
rubbing. Even through the loose bermudas, the bulge was impressive.
Bonnie's hand came up to rest on Louis's hips and she began pulling
him deeper and harder into her mouth. He had taken his finger from her
cunt and was using both hands to brace himself over her. He was pumping
his cock willingly in and out of her mouth, fucking her face. Suddenly,
he stiffened and Bonnie's lips were stretched still further as he poured
his cum into her sucking mouth. I could hear her gurgling with his load.
When he finally pulled his dick out of her mouth, she held him in place
for a moment and rubbed his prick, still sperm- and saliva-slicked, all
over her lovely face.
"You are such a sweet little cocksucker," Louis gasped.
Eyes closed, head twisting slowly from side to side, Bonnie
whimpered, "Yeah, I'm a cocksucker, a cocksucker slut, just a slut, I'll
take on anyone and everyone and I want to I want you I want you all of
you to do to do to do -- "
Definitely ripped.
"Wow," Ed said. He stepped forward, hand poised on his zipper. "Do
you mind?" This was addressed to Louis.
"No, man, be my guest."
"Much obliged," said Ed, unzipping, stripping and dropping over
her. His dick was rock-hard and slid slowly into her. "Oh, wow, she's so
fucking hot and tight!" he groaned.
"Real snapper, man," Louis replied. He lay on his back, gasping for
breath on the worn carpet beside them. Bonnie's legs came up and locked
around Ed's pumping butt and he thrust in and out of her. She thrust
back and then moved her legs higher, to his waist. He was pumping down
as much as forward now and even over the noise of their moans and
breathing, I could clearly hear her cunt sucking on his dick.
Suddenly, Ed pushed upright and hooked his arms behind and under
her knees. He pushed her legs back farther and father, till her knees
were even with her shoulders and more. She was so limber it seemed
perfectly comfortable for her. He was pounding into her now and I could
see his dick stretching her cunt and see her cunt skin pulling out with
his outstrokes.
When Ed started to cum in her, her belly rippled and heaved and she
was plainly cumming with him, but silently. Ed suddenly yelled, "Damn!"
and then bucked against her and shook for a long time. When he pulled
away, his dick stretched long and thin as her cunt refused to relinquish
its grasp for a long time. His glans finally popped free and he sank
back to rest on his knees, her legs came down on either side of him n
slow, fluid motion, like it had been choreographed. Her belly still
heaved and her nipples looked swollen to bursting. A few drops of white
goo leaked from between her swollen cunt lips.
"More more more more -- " she moaned over and over, her arms again
up and seeking. Her eyes were closed.
"When she came," Ed breathed, "her snatch like to pull my dick off.
Wow!"
"Me?" Bill asked Louis, politely. Bill had his bermudas opened.
Louis looked and so did I. I was impressed. Bill was truly hung like a
horse. His cock was very long and very thick, certainly the biggest I'd
seen at that point, and maybe it's the biggest I've ever seen.
"Listen, man, let me go next," Louis said. "She's my date. After
you put that in her, she won't even feel me."
"Cool."
Louis was sporting another thick hard-on, thick enough that I
doubted his assertion, but at the moment my attention was usurped by two
things: Susan's lips brushing the nape of my neck and her hands running
up and down over my torso.
At just that moment, Ed turned and looked at us. He grinned. "Magic
time!" Then he got up and padded naked from the room.
Louis was grunting and puffing as he stuffed his thick dick into
Bonnie and she was moaning as he made slow but steady progress into her
seeping blonde pussy.
I half-turned to Susan. "What did he mean, 'Magic time'?"
"That's sort of an in-joke. Actors say that before they go on
stage...or on-camera."
"Ohhh that's good!" Bonnie gasped as Louis buried the last of his
thick prick in her tight cunt.
"On-camera -- "
Just as Louis started pumping, Ed returned. He had two cameras -- a
35 millimeter and a Polaroid -- around his neck and was carrying a
super-8 camera. I turned and stared at Susan.
"Well, you know he's a photography nut," she said, and pulled her
tee-shirt over her head.
Louis was pumping Bonnie hard, so hard that the breath crashed out
of her with each plunge and even her hard teenage tits jiggled -- and
she seemed to love it. She was gasping and moaning and her legs were
straight up and she was holding them that way with her hands on her
ankles...and then she let them flop wide and lay there and let Louis
collapse on top of her and pour his cum into her. When he pulled out, a
white fringe was around her exposed pussy and drooling down into the
crack of that perfect blonde ass. And Ed was right there, snapping away
with his Polaroid and occasionally with the 35 millimeter.
Louis rolled off her and climbed unsteadily to his feet. "Oh, man,"
he was moaning. "What a hot piece of ass. She's all yours," he said over
his shoulder as he got a beer from the fridge.
Bill was over her in a moment, his huge cock looking monstrous and
dark with hot blood as he positioned himself. He crawled backwards over
her and when his big balls were near her cunt, I swear his knob was over
her naval -- and his prick looked as big as her slender thighs. She
reached down almost negligently and grasped his fat dong and groaned,
"Oh, yeah, fuck me with it! Fuck me!"
She still hadn't opened her eyes.
She used one hand to spread her cunt and the other to guide his
stiff dong and somehow managed to wedge the head halfway into her narrow
cunt. Her young pussy was being stretched incredibly, yet she was
rolling her slim hips desperately, determined to engulf that meat.
She succeeded -- and when the head popped completely into her, her
reaction was visible and audible. She gasped and bit her lip and he
groaned and sank slowly, slowly down onto and into her. It looked like a
broomstick was sticking out of her and he was balancing on it. He seemed
to be letting most of his weight rest on his dick and still it sank into
her slowly.
She made a sound when he was a little more than halfway in. It
sounded like she was in pain -- and considering how much she was being
stretched, that would have made sense -- but even as she wailed she was
bringing those gorgeous legs up and around and resting her feet on his
ass and pushing him into her.
At the same time, Susan was busy. She'd been running her hands up
and down my arms and occasionally kissing the nape of my neck -- which
has always been a sensitive spot for me -- and now her hands were moving
around the front to graze my tits through Alexis' swimsuit top. Her
fingertips made slow circles around the outer edges of my tits,
spiraling in until she was rubbing my nipples. My legs seemed to get
weak and I let myself sink back against her, feeling her nipples hot and
hard against my back. I was just turning my head to kiss her when:
"AUGGGGHH!"
We all stared. Bill was pounding that monster cock into her as far
as it would go -- all but maybe the last two or three inches -- but he
hadn't given up trying to get the whole thing into her. He slammed into
her until her whole body shook when his fat glans slammed into the end
of her cunt and then withdrew just an inch or two and slammed in again.
And each time, when he hit bottom, he ground against her for a moment or
so, trying to press more into her.
"Oh, shit, I feel it IN MY STOMACH!"
She was obviously hurting, yet obviously didn't want to stop,
because: "More! MORE!"
Bill was obliging, but his restraint gave way before she opened up
any deeper. His big balls tightened and pulled up and his cock swelled
even more and he jab-jab-jabbed at her as he poured his load into her
hot, blonde teenage cunt. He seemed to cum for a long time, and a lot,
and the stuff backed up the length of her meat-filled twat and began to
ooze out around the fat plug of his cock.
Louis, by the way, stood naked to one side. In one hand he held a
half-emptied bottle of Blatz (and oh, what memories that recalled!) and
the other stroked his half-hard cock as he urged, "Yeah, man! Pin that
bitch! She wants it!"
And, of course, during all of this, Ed was happily snapping his
pictures.
Bill pulled out. Even limp, his cock seemed to go on forever. When
the head finally popped free, juices -- his, Ed's, Louis's, hers --
drooled lushly out of her sweet little cunt. She lay there, gasping ...
and one hand came up -- her eyes were still closed -- beckoning anyone
and everyone while the other went between her legs to rub and tantalize
her already swollen cunt and clit. The message was clear: More.
Susan pulled my swimsuit top up, exposing my breasts, and got her
hands on my naked nipples and a great gush of excitement went through
me. All the beer and horniness swept me and I felt a moment of vertigo.
Bill saw what was going on and crawled to us on all fours. He pulled my
bottoms down to my ankles and guided my feet out of them, then began
licking me. He moaned, "What a gorgeous little pussy!" over and over as
he tried to lick me dry, a self-defeating exercise at the coldest of
times, and that was far from one of them.
Louis drained the last of his beer and put the cold bottle on the
carpet between Bonnie's legs. I seemed to zoom in on the beads of
condensation on the outside of the amber glass and the slowly settling
ring of foam on the inside. I wondered, oddly, if that was what jism
would look like through amber glass and then Bonnie was rubbing the
bottle up and down, up and down, pressing it against the split of her
slippery slit.
Ed was in conflict. Photograph what Susan and Bill were doing to
me, or focus on Bonnie, who just might turn the bottle ninety degrees
and stuff it into her (apparently) perpetually hungry cunt?
Susan lowered me to the carpet and helped me lay back. Bill never
missed a lick as she began sucking my nipples while on all fours facing
my feet. I felt the first of the orgasms rising in me and then I felt
Bill's hands completely enclose my ass. He lifted my cunny to his mouth
and feasted and I started cumming. I didn't care about the artificial
lightning flashes of the strobe on the 35 millimeter; all I cared about
was cumming more and more and more.
Things got unfocused. I remember, at some point, Susan saying --
rather plaintively -- "Hey! What about me?" and Bill obligingly moving
behind her. Louis quickly took his place between my legs, but not for
long. He was soon laying over me and driving his hard cock into me and
it was just exactly what my body craved.
And all the time I could hear click--click--click--
Louis came soon (it seemed) and I scooted on my back under the
bitch-presenting form of Susan. She lowered her Bill-filled cunt so I
could lick at it and at his big balls. He pulled out at one point and
let his huge dick flop onto my sweat-slippery tits and belly, then
pulled back enough to dangle that plum-size knob over my face. I tried
to suck him as Susan dropped her head and began sucking my clit. His
glans was simply too big to get in my mouth. I licked as much as I could
reach -- which wasn't much -- and then sucked on the slit in the end of
his cock, but it wasn't enough for him and he soon loaded himself back
into her big pussy and resumed churning. And I resumed licking her clit
and his nuts. I liked this better, anyhow.
After Bill came and Susan's newly unplugged twat gushed its little
explosion of her sauces (and his cum) on my face, we all rested. I
didn't know how long I'd been cumming, there; it was timeless. I said
something about being thirsty and someone presented me with a cold beer.
I'd been thinking of cold water or soda pop, but, I figured, What the
hell? I drank the whole bottle almost in one gulp.
"We gotta be making tracks, folks."
We looked over at Louis. He was dressed and looked a bit weary, but
not too bad. Bonnie, however, was a semi-ambulatory disaster. Louis and
she had somehow gotten her cutoffs and shirt back on her, but they were
little enough consolation compared to her flushed face. The big wet spot
on the crotch of the cutoffs didn't lend much to fashion appeal, nor did
the bruises beginning to form on those gorgeous legs. And her hair was a
mess. Susan insisted that Louis wait while she cleaned Bonnie up a bit.
In the meantime, Ed and Bill lit some grass -- a joint, you'd call it
now -- and offered me some. I hadn't even smoked tobacco then, let alone
grass, and declined somewhat nervously, because I wasn't sure how they'd
react. They seemed to think it was fine.
But with the drapes pulled and no real air circulation, that room
-- already hot and filled with the aromas of sex and sum and lubrication
and sweat and lust -- quickly filled with marijuana smoke and it was
getting to me fast. I started to feel very silly and impetuous and I
actually giggled when I realized I had a man's lips at each of my
breasts.
It seemed perfectly reasonable for Ed to roll me onto my back and slide
sweetly into me and begin gently pumping in and out. It was almost
sexless; just friendly, y'know?
But not completely.
Before long, I was starting to cum again, but this time it was in
long, unending waves that washed through and over me an then I felt Ed
cumming and it seemed very reasonable for Bill to be rolling on top of
me and --
"Are you out of your goddam mind?"
Susan's voice was hot, hard, demanding and shrill. It went a long
way to shattering the moment for all of us.
"Huh?" was my contribution.
"Get off her, Bill -- " Much fumbling, foggily remembered, and then
Bill was sitting naked beside me on the floor, that monstrous cock
sticking up from between his thighs like the sweet end of a baseball
bat.
"You put that in her and she'll rupture. Forget it!"
"Awwwww..." was Bill's educated response.
"She may be right," Ed said with the forced sobriety of one who is
stoned.
"Huh?" I said.
"But I wanna be in that nice, tight, hot, slick, hairless, itty
little -- "
"I'll take care of you, horsey," Susan said and began giving
directions as Ed lit another joint and pumped still more mary jane into
the air.
I started to get really relaxed then, to feel a buzz. Susan crawled
over me so we could lick each other and at the same time, Bill slid that
big salami of his up into her. She had her knees on either side of my
head, right up next to my ears, and she let her legs spread wider and
wider till she was almost doing a split. Her mound was mashed right down
over my mouth and every time Bill drove up into her, his balls came up
and smacked against my forehead. She had her hands under me, holding my
butt. My legs were open so she could lick and suck all over my cunt and
then she got ahold of my clit in her lips and I started cumming. And
cumming. And cumming.
I gave as good as I got and it wasn't long before she was screaming
and jumping around and her nipples like to gouge into my tummy, they
were so hard. Ol' Bill was pounding away and I could see his cock swell
up and then he was cumming in her and she was cumming on him and in my
mouth and I just got higher and higher with the sex and the smoke.
I don't remember many details about what came next. Susan and I
rolled over and I sat on her face and licked her and licked at Bill's
juices. Her cunt was still stretched open from his big dick and it
seemed the most natural thing in the world the clench my fist and work
it up into her. I heard Ed clicking away with his camera and then I
heard the movie camera whirring and everyone complained the lights were
too bright, so he gave up on that in about ten minutes.
Susan just lay there and wailed, cumming all the time, and I was
really getting into getting into her, if you know what I mean. I must've
had half my arm up inside her at one point. Ed got it all on film.
Then Ed was kneeling behind me and sliding his nice hard dick into
me and that, what with Susan's licking, had me going like to nuts real
fast. He didn't last any too long, either. I came so hard I kind of
blacked out or something for a while. I came to on my back, with Susan
licking one tit and Ed licking the other. Bill had a joint in his mouth.
He took a deep breath and then kissed me and blew the smoke right into
my mouth -- a "shotgun," it's called.
It hit me pretty hard, because I agreed pretty fast to letting Ed
take pictures of me licking Bill's limp dick. It didn't stay limp very
much longer. At one point I managed to force the head into my mouth and
then it was difficult to get it out, cause his cock had gotten so fat.
Get it out he did, though, and Susan immediately demanded it. He
got up behind her and slid the whole thing in -- bam! it was gone, just
like that. I put my hand up to press her belly and I could feel it
moving inside. He stuck three fingers in his mouth and then pressed them
down between her buttocks and she tensed up for a moment -- and then
sighed deeply.
"Oh, yeah, lover, that feels so gooood..." she said and her eyes
half closed and she pretty much forgot about my nipples. Bill licked his
pinky and added it to the crowd in her butt and she again tensed, then
sighed, and started moaning.
"I wanna pin your sweet, tight ass, baby!" Bill said.
"That'd feel so good," she hissed, "but my cunt will get lonesome!"
I was pretty stoned by then -- my first time -- so I went along
with the suggestion Ed made.
I don't recall a helluva lot about what came next; at least, the
details are unclear. But I remember quite clearly having my fist inside
Susan's big cunt while she sucked my little pussy while the full length
of Bill's humongous cock, fat as my arm, pumped in and out of her ass.
It was squeezing my hand and arm, which were in her cunt. It was very
horny and I remember cumming lots when she remembered to lick and suck
and finger me, and I remember lightning in the room.
When I woke, it was almost dawn. I was surrounded by naked,
sleeping bodies, most covered with sweat and cum. When I sat up and
looked, I discovered I was wearing the same uniform. My only thought at
that moment was get home before Mom or Dad or Moses (a.k.a., Alexis)
awoke and discovered my absence.
It wasn't to be until almost twenty-four hours later that I began
to worry about all that damn film Ed had shot.
I never saw Louis again, anywhere, and but I did hear of him again,
years later, once. There is a reason -- a good one -- for that. As for
Bonnie -- well, I did see her again, but I never would have guessed the
circumstances. When I was "introduced" to her a couple of years later,
you could've knocked me over with a feather.
I didn't want to see Susan or Bill again. It took me a long time to
sort it out, but eventually I did. They'd used me, toyed with me. I felt
dirty and -- soiled. Cheapened. I didn't like that. I'd thought that
feeling was behind me. I'd felt the same way after the first time --
[No. I don't want to talk about that. Not yet, anyway. Maybe later.
Yes. Later]
So after some time passed and I got more relaxed about all of Ed's
film, I started looking forward to the Fourth of July. Alexis got
herself a part-time job working out at the Dairy Queen on Woodville road
and Dad had a steady part-time gig working for some contractor -- in
addition to his regular job --
[No one can ever accuse the son-of-a-bitch of being lazy.]
-- and Jeanne and I were pretty much left to our own devices. That
was when we discovered the vibrating massager Mom had gotten from Sears
to help ease Dad's tense shoulders.
Hah!
Jeanne came like nothing I'd ever seen and I passed out from it, I
came so hard. It was scary.
But we were looking forward to the Fourth. For one thing, there'd
be fireworks over in Maumee.
For another, my phantom step-brother was coming to visit and I was
bound and determined to have him.
CHAPTER TEN
By the time he arrived, I was in a state. I'd dome everything I
could to prepare -- tanned like crazy, read up all I could about his
damn ol' Mets, even bought a sexy peignoir -- and laid in plans for It.
I was determined to seduce my step-brother.
The night before he was arrive at Toledo Express Airport (which he
always referred to as "Toledo International Spaceport," just to rub it
in) I showered and stood bare-butt naked in from of the mirror on the
back of the door to the room I shared with Jeanne. I looked myself over.
All of a sudden, in the past three weeks, I'd started developing
again -- wildly. My bust was up to a 29C and my waist was still a little
bitty 19 and my hips were barely 26 inches. I was as tan as I could be
and my hair, which hadn't been more than trimmed in six months, reached
straight and sleek halfway down my back. When I looked at myself in the
mirror, I knew I was damn sexy and I knew that if I couldn't get to him
now, I never would.
I also knew I had to be Cool -- not too pushy, very much in control.
I had it all planned out, oh yes I did.
I went with Dad and Mom to the airport to meet him. He hugged me
the way he hugged everyone else and I made damn sure that the sleeveless
top I wore was the only thing I wore on top, so he could feel my boobs
press into him. I sat next to him in the station wagon as Dad drove us
all back from the airport, and I made sure I was scrunched over so my
thigh (bare beneath the cutoffs jeans) was against his. And I could not
remember a thing about staying cool. Because he was an absolute fox.
He was a little under six feet tall and had this light brown hair,
except for a -- can you believe it? -- red forelock and had these really
light hazel eyes and a cute face and what a damn built he had on him!
He'd picked up his suitcases from the conveyor belt as if they'd been
empty; when Jeanne and I tried to help we nearly got ruptured. Even Dad
couldn't lift one of them that easily!
All the way back from the airport we made small talk, and he was
always completely in control. When we passed Route 23 and I leaned over
(supposedly) to point to the new bowling alleys (and not incidentally
press my boobs into his arm) he just gave me a quick glance and a funny
little half-smile and I wanted to cross my legs 'cause I was getting so
wet down there.
By the time we'd reached the house, Mom had already told him I was
having some friends over for a slumber party (heh) and since Dad was on
midnight shifts and she tired out early, he agreed to watch over us
kids (double-heh) that night.
All was in readiness.
I brushed my teeth twice and showered and then gargled and showered
again and generally made myself as clean as possible. Then I doused
myself with Windsong and paraded around the house after dinner in my
swimsuit bottoms and a tee-shirt and nothing else and told him I hoped
he didn't mind watching us, et cetera, and found every excuse I could to
lean against him.
At seven, my friends started arriving and at eight he had finished
calling all the aunts, uncles and cousins he had to touch base with. At
nine, my brothers were sent to bed and Jeanne, pleading weariness, sacked
it. Alexis was out on a date and Mom was fading fast. At ten, Dad was
dressed and ready to leave for work (he always got to work early; Dad was
a Depression baby and believed in showing up very early) and Mom was
fighting to stay awake.
At ten-thirty, it was four of my friends and me and my phantom
step-brother, who was sitting at the dining room table, reading a
paperback and scarfing down peanut butter sandwiches.
At eleven, I sprung my trap. I pulled a chair away from the table
and sat facing him.
"Yes?" he asked, looking up from his PB&Js and his book.
"Antisocial?"
He grinned and closed the book. "Meaning?"
"Come in and talk to us. Lisa's here, y'know."
"Lisa's still five years younger than me," he said, not
inaccurately. "And she'd probably prefer not to be reminded of the potato
chips."
I laughed at that. He hadn't forgotten any more than I -- or Lisa
-- had forgotten. "We'd like you tell us about what it's like being in
New York."
He put that stare of his on me. Held it for about a ten-count. Then
smiled oddly and shook his head. "Somehow, I don't imagine a bunch of
thirteen-year-old kids really being that interested in life in Brooklyn."
"Oh, come in and talk to us." I squirmed in mock-coquettishness,
"There's a bunch of nubile young women waiting fro the pleasure of your
company."
I thought he'd choke, holding back the laughter. Finally:
"'Nubile'?" He rose and stood beside my chair. He was wearing faded old
jeans and a Mets tee-shirt and I was fully prepared to unzip and gulp him
right then and there. "Lead on," he said, fighting a grin.
I stood, letting myself get closer than I had to, and drew him by
the hand into the family room.
"Look what I found," I announced.
"This calls for a beer," said Dana Connally. And produced same
from her huge overnight bag. Debbie didn't have much in the way of a
figure, but what she had, she knew how to use. She was wearing a flannel
shorty nightgown and it somehow was sexier on her than my filmy little
peignoir could ever be. I grabbed one of her beers and gulped it. Dan
merely watched as I let myself fall into the old recliner. He was
sitting on the old couch, no more than two feet away. Lisa was next to
him and Dana was on the other side of Lisa from her. The other two,
Angela and Barb, were on the floor, far, far away and dubious -- and
fading fast.
The beer hit me fast and hard. I said things I shouldn't have said,
even mentioned the potato chips. Dan reached past Dana to put his arm
around Lisa and said he would have kept them to that very day if they
hadn't gone stale and soft with age. Lisa blushed and scurried away.
Debbie squirmed in closer to him and grabbed his hand and held it.
I was still in the armchair. I asked him if he had a girlfriend and
tried to steer things in that direction. Occasionally, I made some snide
remarks to Debbie -- about where she was putting her hand, about how
short her nightie was -- and generally got stupid. My plan was
dissolving.
Somehow, the subject turned to comparing Ohio girls with New York
girls, he said New York girls were more sophisticated in some ways, but
Ohio girls were a little more direct -- and he liked that.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, in New York, girls play games, act like they don't want the
same things the guys want -- like what they've got is some kind of
prize, y'know? Here, the girls don't mind letting it be known what they
like and what they don't want. I like the honesty."
"You mean girls here are easier."
"Not 'bad' easier, but...less hung up. Yeah, easier, if honest
means easy." He paused and grinned. "And healthier."
"Waddya mean?"
"Girls out here seem to grow up physically a lot sooner and more
emphatically."
He winked at me.
"You mean, like bigger tits sooner?" Dana asked.
"You betcha."
"Like Marie's?" she asked.
"Yeah. Too bad she's just a kid."
I took offense at that and opened the robe of my peignoir. I wasn't
wearing a bra beneath the chemise and it was all lacy and a little too
tight on my tits. "Who's a kid?" I demanded.
"Marie, you're all growed out real good," he said. "But you're my
sister and you're still too young."
Blame it on the beer. I ran my hands up and cupped my tits. "'If
they're big enough, they're old enough.' Isn't that what they say? And
aren't these big enough?"
He pulled his gaze from my breasts to my eyes. "Don't fuck with my
head," he said quietly. "You know I like you, you know I think you're
sexy and you know you're my sister."
"And you know were not related by blood, so don;t give me that...or
are you just mouthing off about me being attractive?"
"Sure, and the first time I touch you, you'll go screaming."
"No I won't. Go on -- do it."
And there, in that dimly lit room, he leaned forward and put his
hand on my bare shoulder. He slid it down and just barely pressed my
breasts through the bodice of the chemise. I damn near came right then
and there. When his palm was over my right nipple, I said, "I'm not
screaming."
His fingers closed on my nipple through the satin and he pulled it a
bit. And said: "Are you trying to prove something to me, to you -- or to
your friends?"
For a few minutes, it had just been him and me, but now I
remembered the others sitting around and I thought of the stories they
would tell...
He took his hand away. "I think it's time to call it a night. Enjoy
your party, girls." He got up and went into the living room, where his
pullout was.
There were more beers and then we all sort of crashed, there on the
floor, on the couch and on cushions and Angie just sprawled on some
blankets and slept. The beer took its toll on me and I was out pretty
fast.
It took another toll, too. Around dawn I got up to pee and that was
when I heard the noises in the living room. I crept silently to the
corner, at the place where the stairs went up, and that was when I saw
Dana betray me.
Dan was sitting on the living room couch, perched on the edge of
the cushion, and Dana was straddling him. They were kissing hot and wet
and with a lot of tongue. I watched him slide his hands up under her
nightgown and then he was lifting it. She didn't have much in the way
of tits, but what she had got plenty of attention. Dan licked and kissed
and sucked those hard little mounds while she, all long and lean and
lanky and sinuous, held his face against them.
He moved one hand down to rub around he cunt. She didn't have much
hair down there, but she had what he was looking or -- and vice versa. I
could hear his finger squish into her and her breathing got faster.
I also heard his soft sigh when he pulled his dick out through the
opening in his briefs and settled her onto it. Dana was taller than me
by a good seven or eight inches, but her hips and butt were almost as
small as mine and she had to work her way down onto him. I only got a
glimpse, but his cock was about average length and a little thicker than
most and hard as a bar of iron. It was a tight fit and all the time she
was settling onto it, he kept licking and sucking her nipples.
I could have killed her. I was the one who wanted him! Besides --
he was MY brother!
He put his hands on her skinny hips and guided her as she worked up
and down, back and forth. She was long-legged, Dana was, and had her
feet on the floor on either side of his legs. She did the work, but I
could hear both of them breathing harder and I could hear her cunt suck
and squish on him as she moved up and down.
He settled against the back of the couch, his butt still perched at
the edge of the cushion, and moved his hands up to hold her forearms as
she leaned back. Both of them began moving, faster and faster.I saw her
bite her lower lip when she started to cum and then he hunched his hips
up at her and held them there and I knew he was cumming in her.
Damn her!
He pulled her forward against him and I heard his dick slurp out o
her as he kissed her lips and cradled her to him, exactly the way and
the time I'd always wanted.
She slithered out of his arms an knelt between his leg and kissed
and sucked his spermy dick until it was clean. Then she rearranged her
nightgown and whispered something to him.
I scurried back to my cushions on the floor just before she
reappeared in the TV room. All I could think of was the fact that she
had his cum in her cunt, and I did not.
I spent most of the next day sulking. I was not a good hostess to
Angela and Barb and I was downright rude to Dana. And she seemed to know
I knew what had gone on and worse, to know I was wildly jealous. I
determined to make my phantom step-brother spend a lot of time dating
the Palm Sisters by showing off my assets for him whenever I could get
away with it. The problem was that I didn't get much of a chance. That
day he went out to a small town about 45 miles from our house to visit
other relatives and the next day he went out there again. Our mutual
cousin Shana explained: Dan apparently had developed a terrific crush on
Dorothy, a friend of hers with a sweet face, a gentle disposition and a
Body by Hefner.
Shana was willing to talk about it in some detail. She and Dan had
kept up a regular correspondence year-round -- which I'd known about for
quite a while -- and they had a lot to talk about. She'd arranged for a
bunch of her friends from school -- most of whom were close to her and
Dan's age -- to wander over to the Dairy Queen by the quarry-cum-town-
swimming-hole and Hang Out. He and Dorothy had taken an immediate shine
to each other, which was no surprise in either direction. Shana knew
there'd been some smooching and groping, but doubted it had gone very
much farther than that. Dorothy had a reputation for politely-but-firmly
refusing to Go Too Far.
It was enough to put Dorothy on my perpetual hit list, thinking
about her acting like a priss and leaving my gorgeous Dan with blue
balls. Grrrrrr.
The next day he spent helping Mom around the house and with her
chores and I spent most of it flashing him. It had an effect, much to my
pleasure. I kept thinking, Look what you missed and eat your heart out!
What I really wanted, though, was to tell him to eat me.
The next day, a Friday, he was going out there again. This time he
was to stay over with Aunt Mimi -- Shana's Mom -- and I decided it was
time to cultivate Shana's little sister, Irene. She was about my age,
but looked a lot more like it, maybe even less. But she was bright and a
bit hyperactive and jealous of the girls who, like Annette Funicello,
"already got theirs" and determined to prove herself in competition with
them, i.e., get the guys. She hadn't seen Dan yet on this visit -- she'd
been away at a horse farm for a couple of days -- and was really looking
forward to the visit. Eventually, by clever manipulation and downright
lying, I lured her into "deciding" it would be nice for me to stay for
an overnighter at the same time Dan did.
The way I figured it, I would wait until Dan got back from what was
sure to be a heated and -- ultimately -- frustrating evening with
Dorothy and then I'd have him! Aha!
Shana and Dan kissed lightly and sweetly, a non-erotic peck of
warmth and greeting and then we all piled into the Blue Bomb -- a seven-
year-old Buick she was entitled to drive by virtue of her age and
relatively rural location. I would have been pleased and excited at the
start of my little adventure, except that Shana had a passenger:
Dorothy.
She was absolutely lovely and unselfconsciously sexy at the same
time, with her dark hair and flawless complexion and full lips and wide
eyes and that amazing damn body with those fantastically firm, full tits
under a tee-shirt and barely contained by a bra I was sure she wore more
for modesty than support. She was sixteen and in full bloom. I think of
how she looked through the window of the Blue Bomb and I can understand
why it was not unusual for our grandparents and great-grandparents to
marry at fifteen and sixteen.
Shana made some joke about it, but I didn't laugh when I found
myself in the front seat with my cousin...leaving Dorothy and Dan in the
back. The held hands tightly through the entire forty-minute drive. I
dared sneak only two or three glances back at them all the time.
Those Buicks were big. There was plenty of room. Most of it was
unused because they were very close together.
Still, it was impossible to keep a mad on at Aunt Mimi's. She and
Uncle Don got married when she was fifteen and he was seventeen and the
love between them pervaded the entire old ramshackle house. She was a
big, rawboned, horsy-faced lady of indeterminate years and great big
laughing eyes that made you forget the moustache that never seemed to go
away (no matter what she did) and the little stubble of a beard s'help
me on her chin. She made a fuss over Dan, of course, and over me and
kidded me about the way my figure had developed. Somehow, the way she
did it, made it seem remarkable that I had such a body, but perfectly
Okay and Set Yerself Down Here and Have Some Pop and Tell Yer Old Aunt
Mimi What You've Been Up To, Why Doncha? We had dropped Dorothy at her
house and Dan was nice and polite and went into the back yard to talk
with Shana about her drawings and her first pastels.
All of which was fine until we heard car doors slam. Dan went into
the living room to greet Irene. She was all lithe and lean and tousled
blonde hair and little kiddish with tiny bumps inside her shirt and she
greeted Dan by jumping him!
Yeah, she literally jumped up on him, wrapping her arms around his
neck and her legs around his hips. She kissed him right on the mouth,
hard and maybe deep and Dan went all red in the face and pulled her off
him. I could see a bulge in his cutoff jeans. He tried to hide it, but
failed. Irene had two of her little friends with her and a few minutes
later, cousin Timmy -- Shana's big brother and Aunt Mimi's oldest --
came in.
Timmy was Dan's age and a really ruggedly handsome guy even then.
Unfortunately, some of the circuits in his head didn't work. Timmy
couldn't deal with books and reading or any kind of pressure; he would
go into these fits. And he was not particularly gentle, either. Timmy
did what he liked and could get away with. I was never really
comfortable around him and I could see Dan wasn't, either, but he was
polite and tried to be warm, which was more than I could do. See, any
time Timmy was alone with me, he was always grabbing my tits -- hard.
I had to follow through with my charade and immediately diverted
Irene -- who seemed reluctant to leave Dan, which bothered me. She took
me to her room an I went through what was probably the bonding ritual of
girls our age at that time, discussing boys, the Beatles, clothes, the
Beatles, jealousies, the Beatles, free love, the Beatles, the new
Rolling Stones poster (clearly showing Mick's bulge) and, of course, the
Beatles.
[My favorite was George. Okay? Thank you.]
We listened to some 45s and then we were going over to the DQ --
[Dairy Queen.]
-- to hang out. I was very agreeable to this, as I knew that
eventually, Dan and Dorothy would show up there. The adjacent park --
Veteran's -- was about the only place they could go and fool around,
since neither had wheels. I hated the idea, yet I wanted to see them
together. I dunno why; I just did.
Anyhow, going over to the DQ and meeting Irene's friends was about
as exciting as I expected -- deadly dull. The boys in the crowd were
typical of boys my age, which is to say I had outgrown them a long time
ago, but they kept trying to "accidentally" touch my tits or get me
alone.
After what seemed like years there, Irene and I walked back to her
house. She told me she was glad I had spurned -- she used that word --
the boys who were turned on by my tits. She hoped that would help them
look for other qualities in a girl.
I told her to hold her breath till they were nineteen or so.
She asked, How do you know? and I, like an idiot, told her a little
bit and hinted at more.
[Why "like an idiot"? Listen -- and stop interrupting me -- and I'll
tell you.]
Well, Irene decided that meant she could tell me stuff. Like, for
one, she'd Done It. She wouldn't tell me who, but she had done it and
more than once and she liked it. A lot. She also told me that at some
point during the day -- probably when she went downstairs to get the
disgusting Cherry Kool-Aid for us -- she'd been briefly alone with Dan
and kissed him again and touched his hard on. He'd made her stop.
He'd told her she was a little young for that and she'd told him
she was more than willing to give him a demonstration of her abilities
and he'd told her she should wait a little longer for that.
By the time she finished the tale -- and we were nearing her house,
in the dark small-town Ohio July night -- her nipples were stiff as
pencil points inside her sadly flat tee-shirt.
"And I really want to -- y'know -- DO IT with him now."
That was when we heard the noise from the side of the house.
Quietly, we crept to the edge of the hedge and looked.
My phantom step-brother was licking Dorothy's nipples.
They were clinching in the shadows near a tree -- an elm, I
remember distinctly -- and he had her light shirt raised and her bra
opened. Her breasts were truly magnificent and he was giving them their
due. He cupped them gently in his hand -- they needed hardly any support
of any kind, as large and thrusting as they were -- and was running his
lips over and around them and then licking and sucking her nipples. Her
flush was visible even in the shadows. Her cutoff clad legs were wide
and he was rubbing his hand over the tightly-stretched denim over her
cunt and she was rubbing up against his fingers.
I was horrified and turned on at the same time.
"Do you think they're gonna do it?" Irene whispered.
I just shook my head, unwilling to trust my voice.
I watched him caress those lovely sixteen-year-old tits and the
damp jeans taut over her swampy sixteen-year-old cunt and I was sure he
was going to fuck her...but when he tried to unsnap the waist of the
cutoffs, she stopped him. Again and again, no matter how turned on they
got, she stopped him.
As I'd expected.
They were at that awful point where she was rubbing his dick
through his now-very-tight jeans and he was rubbing her pussy hard
enough to split the soaked fabric of her jeans and I was ready to stand
up and march over and offer to take over for her, since she seemed
unwilling to do the right thing herself. At that very point the side
door opened and the outside light came on -- one of those yellow things
that's not supposed to attract bugs but always does -- and Shana stuck
her head out.
"Hey, you guys -- getting late." And ducked back in.
They stayed there in the shadows for a few minutes more, murmuring
and cuddling and then she stood and he stood and they clinched and then
she walked off alone down the safe summer streets of that little town.
Dan had a huge bulge in the front of his jeans. He stood, watching
her until she was out of sight, and then sighed and went inside.
"Did you see his hard-on?" Irene whispered excitedly. "The way his
jeans were all stuck out from it?" She giggled. I glanced at her. Even
in the shadows I could see her flush -- and the stiff points of her
nipples against her shirt. "Isn't he hot?"
I nodded and thought about it. My plan was foolproof. He'd just
spent about forty minutes getting turned on by her and needed relief. So
far so good. He was going to be staying over in the same house as me.
Still good. Aunt Mimi's snoring would pretty much have immunized everyone
in the house against waking at small sounds. Right on track. And Dan was
going to be mooning over Dorothy and that was bad. He was such a
romantic -- not that he'd ever admit it -- that he'd probably not even
look at another woman, let alone a girl who happened to be his step-
sister. It would be like Dan to think of that as being unfaithful.
"We'd better go inside," I said. Irene and I sneaked through the
bushes, then walked loudly down the sidewalk and entered the front door.
Dan was sitting up with Shana, watching an Outer Limits episode.
Everyone else was sleeping. We got some pop and sat with him for a
while. Irene excused herself after a while and came back in a shorty
nightgown. You could glimpse her lean silhouette through it, but that
didn't make any difference; there wasn't much to see.
Shana said that looked like a good idea and did the same. With her
lustrous, dark curls and dark flashing eyes, she looked so lovely that I
began to think about her, for the first time, as a woman and not as my
sweet cousin.
As the show ended and the news came on WTOL, channel 11 -- which we
had to watch to get the scores for his damn ol' Mets -- I excused myself
and changed, too. I'd brought just a simple, summer-light shorty
nightgown. I didn't bother with a bra.
When I came back in the room, Shana -- always forthright -- said,
"My goodness, Marie! Where did you ever get those big, uh, bosoms? You
make me feel positively flat-chested!"
"How do you think she makes me feel?" Irene murmured.
"They were on sale at Tiedtke's," I said.
"Don't you think Marie has a great figure, Dan?" Shana asked.
"Fantastic," he said. "Sometimes I wish she wasn't my sister or a
kid."
"Some kid," Shana said. "When I grow up, I want to have a bod like
that `kid'!" Then sports report came on and Dan made us all shut up while he
listened to how his damn ol' Mets had lost to the Dodgers. After the
news came the late show -- Forbidden Planet. Shana had to get up at six
for her job at the Five & Dime. She gave Dan a peck on the cheek and
said good-night and admonished Irene and I not to stay up too late. Then
she went upstairs to bed. I heard her washing up and then I heard the
door to her room close and lock. I went to the kitchen and got more pop.
I made sure to walk in front of the TV and sit up on the floor at
an angle. After a few minutes, Irene said, "Marie, you better move. I
can see right through that gown in the TV light. And so can Dan."
"Oh, don't worry," I said, never taking my eyes off the TV. "He's
my step-brother and I'm just a kid. He probably doesn't even notice."
"I notice."
"I noticed you noticed," Irene chipped in. I looked this time, when
Irene started to giggle. Dan was blushing. He had another hard-on.
"Irene!" I said.
"You, too!" She pointed. I looked down. My nipples were hard and
pointed and clearly so for being silhouetted. "Nice view."
"I don't care who looks," I said. "It doesn't bother Dan."
"Well, actually, it does."
I turned and looked right at him. "Does it really?"
He nodded. "And you know it."
Irene suddenly made a great show of yawning. "Well, I'm going to
hit the hay. See ya in the morning!" She gave Dan a big wet kiss right
on the lips, holding his face with her hands and making the kiss longer
than it should have been, and then she went upstairs, too.
I was still staring at Dan. "Want me to move?"
He nodded. I was starting to think my plan had a chance, after all.
I stood and took my time walking toward him, staying between the TV
and him. His eyes were on my tits. "That was some good night kiss."
"Yes."
"I can top that." I bent at the waist and watched his eyes follow
my tits as the nighty drooped and gave him a good view. Then I
duplicated Irene's action: I took his face in my hands and kissed him on
the lips. And -- maybe -- added a wrinkle of my own by pressing at his
lips with my tongue until he finally let it in. By the time I drew my
lips away, I was dripping wet and wondered if he could smell my juices.
I kissed him again and this time took his hands and led them to me, till
he was cupping my tits.
He started to fondle my breasts -- and suddenly pulled his hands
away and pushed me gently away.
"Don't," he said. "This is wrong."
"I want -- "
"It's still wrong, to me."
I stood in front of him. "But you want me, I know you do."
He nodded. "A lot. And doubly because -- well, you know."
"Know what?"
He changed the subject abruptly: "That was you watching Dorothy and
me, wasn't it?"
"You knew?"
He looked at me as if the question was stupid.
I countered: "Well, I won't leave you all frustrated."
He groaned softly. "Dammit, Marie, don't tempt me like this. I want
us to be friends."
"And we can't be friends and do that, too?"
"You know we can't."
I looked down at him. His dick was sticking up like a tent pole
inside his jeans. His breathing was shallow and fast. His lips had been
sweet and I kept thinking what it would be like to have him mouthing my
breasts the way he'd been doing it with Dorothy and I was terribly
annoyed, because I knew that when Dan dug in his heels, nothing was
going to move him.
"Damn you!" I hissed and stalked upstairs. I sat in the bathroom
for a long time, trying to calm down, then I took a hot bath and
masturbated like crazy. It didn't help enough.
Finally, sometime around one, I went and crawled onto the mattress
in the middle of the floor in Irene's room. I slept, frustrated and
horny. But not soundly.
Which was why I woke when Irene got up. I could almost get back to
sleep, so I lay there quietly and tried to will sleep. After a while, I
realized she hadn't come back to bed and there was no noise in the
bathroom.
I got up to investigate. All the other doors -- to Shana's room and
her brother's room and my aunt and uncle's room -- were closed on the
second floor. So I crept quietly down the stairs. The TV was still on,
the sound very low. The TV was the only source of light in the room. It
was enough. There were plants on a little opening in the stairwell and I
peered between the leaves. My tan and dark complexion helped, too.
Natural born commando, that was me.
Irene was sitting next to Dan on the floor in front of the couch.
She had some crackerjacks in one hand. The bowl was on the other side of
Dan from her. She was looking at his crotch and he was looking at her
face. I could just hear what they were saying as Forbidden Planet was
getting close to the end.
"Why do you keep touching me there, Irene?" Dan said. "You wouldn't
like it if I was always touching you there."
She shrugged and munched her Crackerjacks. "I like it. Don't you?
Timmy likes it, all the time. I touch him lots of ways."
"What ways?"
She swallowed the last of her confection. "Promise you won't tell
and I'll show you."
He hesitated a long time. I could see his cock throbbing inside his
jeans. Finally, he nodded. "Promise."
She slowly put her hand over his dick-bulge and then and unzipped
his jeans. She reached inside and fished out his dick. It stood straight
up. She gripped it tightly in her little hand and jerked a little on it.
His breathing got shallower.
"You can touch me, too, y'know," Irene said, leaning over and
staring up intently into his face. Her hair was all disheveled and sun-
blonde and her face was cute, but very sensual. Her eyes said she knew
exactly what she was doing. "Please?"
She turned sideways, kneeling spread-legged next to him. She took
his hand and led it between her legs, under her nighty. I knew when he
began caressing her, because her eyes half closed and her mouth opened
a bit.
She bent and licked the head of his cock and he groaned softly. She
kept licking and jerking and then she stiffened and I knew he was
sliding his finger into her little slit. Her skinny young hips began
hunching up and down.
She released his cock and unfastened his pants, He lifted his butt
as she pulled them down his thighs. He kicked them off the rest of the
way, because her hands had gone back to his dick and his balls. She
opened her mouth and took the head of his prick inside and I watched him
again lift his hips and heard him murmur, "Damn, damn, damn..."
She took his other hand and led it to the front of her nightgown.
He searched for and found her nipples and rubbed them, then moved his
hand to her head and caressed her face. She opened her mouth and spread
her lips wide to take more of his thick cock in her mouth. She had soft,
full lips, but she was small and her mouth was small for her face and
she had it filled with just the head of his cock.
She began bobbing her head up and down on him, still jerking with
one small hand. She shifted back to get her face lower over him. The
girl was young, but she definitely knew how to suck cock and she
definitely was enjoying herself. Dan was arching toward her.
"I'm gonna -- gonna -- "
"Mmm-HMMM!" It was muffled, but definitely affirmative. She reached
down with her other hand and began caressing his balls -- of which I had
a great view -- and then he started to cum.
She sucked and gurgled and swallowed and he came for what seemed a
long time. She was utterly intent on sucking and drinking him. I
couldn't even feel jealous -- just envious. She was jerking with her
hand harder and faster and I watched her little cheeks concave and bloat
and saw her throat work as she swallowed. He came a lot and some slipped
out around her lips, lubricating her hand on his shaft.
Finally, his spasms became irregular and then slowed and then
stopped. She sucked his limpening dick in and pushed it partially out of
her mouth rapidly, like a little kid playing with a piece of spaghetti.
He sank back to the floor and groaned, deep and relieved.
She let his prick slide out of her mouth and it flopped between his
legs. Her lips were all slick and spermy, and so was his cock.
He pulled her up to him and cuddled her close, but she was having
none of that. She pulled her nightgown up over her head and jammed one
enormously swollen nipple into his mouth. He took it greedily, licking
it and maybe even chewing a little on it.
Irene sighed and pulled his hand back between her legs. Her ass was
so tiny and her body was so lean and smooth! It was all glistening with
perspiration and she looked slippery and sinuous as an eel -- a sexy
young eel. He reached back and squeezed her cheeks, then slid his
fingers back and caressed her little, smooth cunt. Finally, he extended
Badfinger and she settled happily onto it and jerked her hips up and
down. I could see his cock re-erecting. In no time at all, it was hard
again, solid as a brick and looking just as thick compared to her lithe
slenderness.
She murmured something to him I couldn't hear. His reply was audible:
"But I'm afraid of hurting you."
She said something that was obviously reassuring and shifted so she
was straddling him.
"First, I want this," he said. His hands came around and cupped --
and covered -- her ass. He guided her until she was standing over him,
with his head resting back against the couch and then he began to eat
her.
Now I was definitely jealous, because from the way he ate her, I
knew she was getting it good. He licked and sucked and nibbled and
mouthed and tongued her. I watched her ass clench and her hips hunch
and I watched her thighs shake as she came and came again. I could see
her juices on his chin. He worked his hands around her farther and slid
one finger against the back of her cunt and she shook above him. He
worked the finger of another hand between those tightly squeezed, corded
masses of hard little ass and she pushed back and against it, taking it
into her teeny butt-hole to the first joint. I saw her tense until every
muscle in her back was clearly defined and great beads of sweat popped
out all over her body and she came again.
Finally she couldn't stand and he lowered her against him. She
sobbed into his shoulder and shivered again as he caressed her back and
kissed her forehead. She said something to soft for me to hear.
-- and I heard him say, incredulously, "Never? No one? But you
taste so sweet, how can anyone resist?"
"The same way you resist Marie." That was clear enough. My eyes
widened, and there was no one to see them.
He looked troubled for a moment, but then she was sliding down
until her little cunt was nestled against the throbbing thickness of
his glans. She eased herself up and reached down in her crouch to spread
her labia and then she slowly worked her cunt onto the knob.
"Damn that feels good, cousin Dan!"
She worked her way down onto him, impaling herself on my step-
brother's solid dick. It stretched her little cunt a lot, and she really
seemed to be enjoying it. She was very wet, and when she'd taken it all
and began raising herself up again, his emerging cock was shining
brightly in the light of the television.
She levered herself up and down, faster and faster, groaning
and sighing as he panted: "You're so tight and hot -- Ahhhh!"
I watched him move one hand out of sight, on her front to nipple
height. She jammed herself down and shook against him, vibrating those
narrow, prepubescent hips over him. His balls started to jerk. Then he
moved his hand lower and twisted his arm and I guessed: He was moving
his thumb over her clitoris. She shook faster and harder and then held
herself still against him and quietly shrieked her pleasure. His balls
pulled up tight and throbbed and I could see her cunt lips stretch and
thin around his fat prick as it swelled with each spurt. She grabbed his
face and kissed him hard and long as he came in her and she came with
him.
They collapsed together and lay like that for a long time. She
pulled her little cunt off his cock slowly and then put her nighty back
on.
"Promise you won't tell?"
"No one," he vowed.
She giggled. "Can we do it again -- soon?"
"I hope so, Irene. That was terrific." He pulled himself upright
and slid back into his jeans. "But not tonight."
She giggled again. "Y'know, Marie wants to do that with you."
He nodded as he sat heavily on the couch and ad on the television
began touting the great deal at Bender's Buick on Alexis Road. "I'd like
to do it with her, too, but I can't."
"Why not? You're not blood relations any more than you and I are."
"Because she's special, in a different way. Some day we'll need to
be able to talk to each other in a special way and this -- " He nodded
toward her and the place where they'd fucked. "-- would get in the way.
I'm not sure why, but I don't think it's a good idea."
"Well, if you'd rather do it with me than with someone with a bod
like hers, that's not a problem for me!" She was positively glowing. She
gave him a big kiss and I took that as my cue to go into fake slumber
mode where they both figured I should be: On the mattress in Irene's
room.
I had a lot to think about. For one thing, I'd just watched my
little -- in every sense of the word -- cousin do everything but rape my
step-brother. And she'd enjoyed it as much as she'd confided she enjoyed
fucking. And I'd just heard her put in a pitch on my behalf! And I'd
just heard Dan tell her what he'd never told me: Some of the reason why
he kept restraining himself and me from getting it on.
I didn't mean to, but I dozed off pretty fast and resented waking
in the sunlit morning. No matter. I did. Irene never told me of her
escapade with Dan and I couldn't very well ask, could I?
Dan and Dorothy never got together again -- she kept putting him
off, the fool -- and the Fourth came and went and then so was he, back
to his city and his girlfriends there. I was left with memories and
fantasies and questions. I sort of coasted through the rest of the
summer, developing just as fast as I before. It seemed like only a few
days before school began.
School. My freshman year in high school. I remember it vividly --
because that was the year the stolen pictures and the shots taken by Ed
Sautter came back to haunt me and hurt me more than I had been hurt
since -- well, since the first time.
[Later. I promise.]
CHAPTER 11
I spent most of the rest of the summer getting even with Dana and
Irene and -- most of all -- Dan...in my mind. I fucked everyone I could
and with the figure I had, I could get just about anyone I wanted. And I
wanted a lot. Just before Labor Day, I hitched a ride out to Perrysburg
with three Mexicans. I was so dark and swarthy that they assumed I was
Mexican and were surprised that I didn't understand their Spanish. Only
one of them spoke English and he wasn't very good with it. None of them
was more than eighteen. I was wearing a bandeau under a tee-shirt and a
pair of shorts and this goofy straw hat. It was really hot -- about
ninety degrees and there was no breeze. They were riding in an old
junker of a Rambler that didn't have a good muffler in it.
The one who spoke English asked me how old I was. When I told him I
was fourteen -- lying by two years -- and he translated, there was some
muttering from the others.
"We are unhappy. We believed you to have more years." He seemed
genuinely sad.
Well, I could understand the mistake. I measured 29-19-26 and would
have worn a C cup if there'd been such a thing in a bra that size. I was
taut and smooth and with my hair long and tousled, I could easily pass
for older. So I said that was no reason to be sad and he said, Yes, it
was, because they had thought I might like to have some fun, but I was
too young.
Now, I'd always heard stories and bad jokes -- What's a 10-year-old
Mexican virgin? A girl who can outrun her brothers -- and politely tried
to explain I'd thought 14 was not too young for a girl to have fun, if
she was Mexican.
They were unhappy at that. Every one of them had brothers and
sisters my "age" and younger and they were very proud that their sibs --
[Siblings. Am I going too fast for you?
[Yeah, I know. I'm just feeling kind of bitchy and edgy. Ready?]
Well, they were proud that their little brothers and sisters were
pure and went to church regularly.
I turned and looked at the two in the back and then again at the
one in the front and said, I like to have fun, I have been having fun
for a long time and would they like have some fun with me?
We want to an old maintenance shanty near the rail yards. They'd
adopted it and fixed it up as best they could with no money and had
turned it into a kind of club house. It was clearly bachelor -- covered
with pinups from Playboy -- but it was neat and clean and they were
polite and solicitous.
I didn't get to Perrysburg. I stayed there with them for about five
hours. They were young, they were horny and they were incredibly virile.
I had each of them three or four times. One of them -- the oldest --
wanted to try me in the ass, but as soon as I told him it was hurting,
he stopped, apologized and withdrew. Oddly, though they were fascinated
by nearly hairless pussy, none of them would eat me. Which was okay, as
it turned out, because they had a good-natured contest of seeing who
could make me cum the most often just by fucking.
[I forget. No -- wait: I won.]
They took turns, and they only time anyone was at all rough was
when they touched my tits. Even then, it wasn't that they were mauling
me; all three worked as day laborers and had very rough and calloused
hands.
One of the pinups on the wall was Gwen Wong, this Playmate with
huge tits and long nipples and a very young face. One of the guys said
that if my eyes were slanted, I could look a lot like her. The other two
protested that I was prettier. And we fucked some more.
I was sore for three days, but never regretted it.
Then school started, my freshman year, and it was inevitable that
I'd be invited to try out for cheerleader. I had no interest in that,
though, and my refusal caused some resentment. The only extracurriculars
-- official extracurriculars, that is -- I wanted anything to do with
were gymnastics (which wouldn't have me because my figure was too
pronounced for exhibition in a leotard) and the school paper.
The school paper was a joke. We couldn't print anything the school
didn't like or anything unpleasant. It was more of a pep sheet than
anything else. We did personality profiles on the administration's
favorites, the good examples -- never on the interesting students or
activities. Still, it was fun to have official permission to go up to
strangers and ask nosy questions.
I wasn't seeing George anymore, of course, as he'd told me about
meeting his distant cousin and they were mad for each other and that was
that. We remained friends. But I didn't have a steady and satisfying
boyfriend, not like George, and I was still trying to work the summer's
non-events with Dan out of my head. So I was trolling.
The problem was that in such a strictly supervised environment, I
had to be very careful with my schoolmates. Since the town was already
starting to split over the Vietnam War protests, the cops were enforcing
the old curfew laws on kids under sixteen, so I couldn't just go and
hang out much, either.
Then the campaigns started for class presidents. I did a couple of
interviews and heard the usual crap from all the candidates. Even the
one who was being drafted. He didn't really want the job or the nonsense
that went with it, but time and again he'd been the one to come up with
innovative ideas for persistent problems and twice he'd successfully
mediated disputes -- once, over an antiwar protest and once over race.
But after the interview was over, he said something that really got
my interest.
"One thing I'd suggest would be giving class credit for volunteer
work."
I took out my notebook but he stopped me. His name was Tyrell
Hamilton, he was six feet tall and handsome and well-spoken and about
the shade of Mom's coffee after she added a tablespoon of milk.
"Don't bother," he said. "They'll never let you print it. And
they'll never go along with it when I suggest it."
I kept the notebook out. I was taking Gregg Shorthand and doing
real well with it.
[Yes. And I brought it. See? And these are verbatim notes.]
"Why do you think it's important?"
He laughed softly. "Because -- Look around you. Eight hundred
students. About three dozen aren't white. Maybe a hundred don't come
from middle- or upper-class homes. All Catholic. We are so much alike
here that we have no idea how the rest of Toledo lives."
"You think we need more integration, is that it?" I was a little
suspicious.
"Not racial integration," he said. "Social integration. The only
reason there aren't more Afro-Americans here is there aren't more Afro-
Americans who have the money and the academic qualifications. The nuns
and the other students here generally don't give a damn about that."
"There're exceptions."
"There're always exceptions." We were walking slowly down the first
floor corridor toward the parking lot. The place was almost empty. From
far, far away I could hear the echoes of cheerleading practice and
someone was dribbling a basketball. "But even there, we're too much
alike. The real world has poor people and rich people. It has
Protestants and Jews and atheists. It has Birchers and antiwar
activists. It has bigots. It has thieves and muggers and bums and
saints."
"We'll meet them soon enough."
He held the door for me. "That's my point. We get out of school
here and about half go to college and some go into the army and some
move away, but we all meet the real world -- and we don't have the
faintest idea how to deal with it. We meet people who are fundamentally
different and it scares us and we get uptight and we don't react well.
And they don't react well to us."
"So it feeds on itself."
We were in the middle of the nearly empty parking lot. He spun, his
eyes bright and his face animated. "Yes! And the hatred and suspicion
and fear takes charge -- and all because we're inexperienced: We have no
education in people!"
"And you think encouraging supervised volunteer work would help us
get some experience with different people in different situations."
"Within the context of a goal-oriented guidance system and with the
benefit -- "
" -- of more experienced leaders who can teach us how to evaluate
and respond -- "
" -- to unfamiliar and sometimes frightening circumstances! Yes!"
"And then, when we go into the real world, we understand a little
more, because we've already tested ourselves in strange waters -- "
" -- and found that we can swim, because we learned to do it -- "
" -- in a school?"
I groaned at the pun.
"Sounds fishy?" he asked innocently.
"Holy mackerel."
"No, it's 'Holy mackerel dere, Kingfish.'"
"I guess I just don't have any soul."
"But you're still one smart filly."
I frowned.
"Filly of soul?" he suggested.
I groaned again.
We both started laughing. Tyrell offered to drive me home. I didn't
think twice. We talked more on the way. We really hit it off, instant
chemistry, and it had started from the neck up, for a change.
He let me out in front of my house and I waved good-bye. Inside,
Jeanne was home, and Mom. Jeanne immediately pulled me into our room.
"Marie, did you -- you know?"
I stared at her. "What?"
"Who was that?"
I told her and she said, "Well, does he really have a big one? They
say all of them have huge -- " The look on my face stunned her.
"Jeanne, I interviewed him for the paper and he gave me a ride
home."
"You didn't do it with him?"
"No -- though now that you mention it, it's not such a bad idea, I
mean, he is awful good-looking and ..."
"Marie! He's a nigger!"
I was the one who was stunned this time. How had we grown up
together and been so close -- so very close -- without me knowing this
about her? Because we never encountered anyone who was really different.
"Jeanne, he's a man who's a little darker than me. A smart, polite,
good-looking man. I think he and I might get to be friends. And don't you
ever use that word in front of me again."
She seemed a little shocked by that and I suppose I was, too.
Socially conscious Marie -- as of about forty minutes before. But it was
true. Something had happened to me during the time after the interview
with Tyrell Hamilton. Something burned inside him and the flames had
caught me, too. My main concerns had been getting laid, passing my
class, getting laid, wondering when they were going to have a sale at
Penney's, getting laid and getting even with Dana and Irene. Suddenly, I
was thinking about things that were in the far distant future, beyond
the great dividing line of Graduation, beyond 1971, which was a date
lost in tomorrow. Suddenly, I was thinking about things like
responsibility and understanding and harmony.
And I was spending a lot of time thinking about Tyrell. Well, was
it true what they say?
[Yes, I saw Blazing Saddles. Okay?]
I started spending more and more time with the juniors and seniors
than I already was -- which was a lot, since I found most of the kids
who were my age were kind of backward. I started hanging out with the
crowd Tyrell spent time with. And pretty soon, I was fairly regularly
sitting next to him at our basketball games -- and thus having him drive
me home.
After the fifth game -- against Penta; we lost -- I got impatient.
"Ty, aren't you ever going to ask me out?"
We were at a grade-crossing, waiting for an endless freight to
pass, down by East Broadway. He waiting about a three-count and turned
his face toward me. "You have to be kidding."
"Why?"
"You're white and I'm not and you're not even 13 yet!"
"So?"
"Are you nuts? I'm almost eighteen!"
"So? I want you, Ty."
"So? That's statutory rape and considering that I'm not white, the
police will probably fire five or six warning shots -- into the back of
my little burr head!"
"Ty! You know me! We're friends, for crying out loud."
"And that's fine -- but that's it, girl." He watched me. "What the
hell are you doing?"
What I was doing, for the benefit of those who weren't there, was
pulling my sweater off and unbuttoning my blouse.
"Guess."
"Marie!"
The blouse was off and I was reaching back and under for the hooks
on my ill-fitting bra. A moment later and it was gone, too, and not only
did it feel good to have the constriction of my tits, it made me feel
somehow wild and free to be sitting there with my boobs bare in his car
so anyone could look in -- even in the dark -- and see me.
"Tyrell Leroy Hamilton, you will not be my first and you probably
won't be my last and if you don't promise to make love with me I am
going to jump out of this car and yell, `Help! This nigger's trying to
rape me!'"
"Marie, I want you."
His words, so calm and easy and serious, froze me.
"But you're trying to take charge of me and I won't have that. Be
my friend and we may become lovers, some day -- but I won't have an
owner for a friend or a lover."
I hadn't thought of it that way. I started pulling my blouse back
on. The caboose of the endless freight rumbled slowly by. Behind us, car
engines were starting. I felt like a shit.
"I'm sorry."
He was shaking his head as the crossing gates came up and we
started across the tracks.
We drove across the tracks in silence. We drove down to East
Broadway in silence. As we pulled up onto the road that would take us
back to my house, I finally said, "Dammit, Ty, say something?"
"You have truly amazing breasts. I didn't know they were so big or
lovely."
"I'd really like you to get more acquainted with them. And more."
"Doesn't sound all bad. By the way ..."
"Yes?"
"Do you know where we were parked when you threatened to get out
and yell for help?"
I thought about it -- and then it hit me.
"Uh-huh," he said. "Niggerville. Jigaboo Town. You could have
precipitated a race riot back there."
I was glad for the night, so he wouldn't see me blushing in
embarrassment. Then I noticed he'd driven right past the street where I
lived. "Where?"
"I want to show you something."
I started to get my hopes up, but then I remembered what he was
like and calmed down, fast. And with cause.
Ty drove us down past the Anderson grain elevators and parked. It
was dark there. He got out and a moment later I did, too. We were
looking across the Maumee River and had a really lovely view of the
water and downtown Toledo.
"It's awfully pretty," I said.
"Until you get there," he said. "Until you get down on Washington
and Jefferson. Go by the Valentine or the Blade or to one of the Purple
Cows. Then it's just as ugly."
We were standing close. I pulled his arm around me. It felt good.
"People can be like that, too. Beautiful and impressive till you
get up close and then you see them for what they are and see all the
ugly things in them."
I moved till I stood in front of him and pulled his other arm
around me. I covered his hands with mine and held them across my
breasts.
"I've been close to you, Ty. I am close to you. I don't see ugly."
"I -- I've done bad things."
I kept my mouth shut.
"I hurt someone. Hurt bad. Someone who shouldn't have been hurt."
I held his hands tight over my tits. And listened. It had happened
when he was fourteen and hanging out with other kids his age. All of
them were black, kids he knew in Niggerville. One of them knew this girl
who was just asking for it. She was lithe and lean and tight and had a
great ass and the way she talked and acted, they knew she was just
asking for it and they knew that if someone gave her some wine, she'd do
them all.
So someone gave her some wine. And she did them all. Many times.
Long past the end of the wine. Long past her willingness.
"I'd never been with anyone before and even when she was crying and
asking us to stop, we kept doing it."
Except him. He'd persuaded the others to stop and let her go.
"That sounds like good to me, not bad," I said.
"It was -- but it wasn't the end."
A few months later, she came by his house when he was home alone.
She'd been drinking wine. She'd gone into that phase when a girl just
suddenly blossoms. She wasn't a skinny kid with a great ass, not any
more. She was a young siren, blooming. And she wanted to thank him.
"I should've made her go away."
But he hadn't. They'd spent the entire afternoon, before his
parents or siblings came home, fucking wildly. He figured he must have
cum in her four or five times. Whenever he got limp, she did things --
"With her mouth."
-- to make him ready again...and at fourteen-almost-fifteen he
could get ready a lot.
"That's not hurting someone," I told him.
"Yes it was. I wanted to do it more with her and when she wanted
more wine, I let her have it from Momma's closet so I could do it more."
The problem came a couple of months later.
"One of the guys said she was dead."
I went cold all over when he said that. "Dead?"
She'd gotten pregnant and gone to the only abortionist a poor
thirteen-year-old girl -- black or white -- in Toledo could find in
those moral, enlightened days. That night, she'd begun hemmorhaging. She
was DOA at St.Charles.
"I killed her."
I turned to him. His arms dropped away as soon as I released his
hands. "That's not true."
He was nodding, tear-stained cheeks glimmering in the night. "Me. I
got her pregnant and -- and -- "
"And you were the only guy she ever fucked?"
He blinked.
"Yeah -- fucked." I said it hard.
"Well, no, of course not, but -- "
"You figure you're the only guy who fucked her that month?"
He tried to turn away. I grabbed him, my arms around his waist.
"Well?"
"I -- I -- "
"You know you weren't. Hell, she was probably fucking another guy
that day -- the same one who gave her the wine before she got to your
house."
"But what I did was wrong -- "
"She wanted it, didn't she? She went out of her way to ask for it?
She wanted to keep doing it? And you figure it's your fault?"
"She was just a kid!"
"So were you."
"So are you."
"I'm young, but I haven't been a kid since ... " I almost told him,
but couldn't. "Well, I'm no kid." I pulled his arms around me. "Hold
me."
And that's what he did -- just held me, close and strong and scared
and sobbing and trying to fight it all back, trying to be the tough
young buck, figuring this so-called white girl --
[Cause it's true. Put my hand down on a piece of paper -- here.
See? Do I look "white" now? Right. You do it -- see? Kind of off-beige.
What gets called "black" isn't really black. When was the last time you
saw someone dark enough to even try to qualify for "black"?
[Yeah, I thought so. So you think about this: Those aren't colors
or races or hues, they're just the fucking labels we use so we can
generalize or categorize and excuse ourself from thinking any farther
than the label.
[Okay?
[Your goddam right I'm hot about it! Want to find out why? Listen.]
-- this so-called white girl wouldn't figure him out, but I did,
because when you're that close, there's no color, no race, just holding
and being held, and I have a news flash for all the racial purity folks:
We're all the same. The reason I know is that holding Ty, I could see
through him just like anyone else. He was just looking to stop hurting,
same as me and you and anyone else. Hurting doesn't have a race, unless
the race is Human.
Well, one thing led to another and before long I was doing more
than holding. His was the first uncircumcized cock I'd ever held or
sucked or fucked, and when he came, he groaned and he cried, and I
understood that. He was crying cause there was nothing left in him that
he hadn't shared, so I held him till the sun came up and we never talked
about that -- but something had been established, a bond, you know? We
never did anything sexual again.
I sneaked into the house and -- Miracle of miracles -- no one
caught me. I took that as a Sign.
I lay awake for a long time, thinking that this was amazing --
knowing even then we weren't going to be lovers again -- that this afro
senior and me were that close that we'd used fucking and sucking and
loving to seal our bond, and it felt right. Damn, but if felt good and
close and tight.
But no way that was going to be left alone. No way. The weeks
passed and about ten days before the class elections, I went over to
room 128, which was the room Ty's backers had drawn from the pool as a
campaign headquarters. I went over there pretty much every day and it
was more and more crowded, which was a good sign.
When I walked in, the place went quiet. Everyone was looking at me.
I said Hello to a few people and looked around, but Ty wasn't in sight
and when I asked Chuck -- who had sort of fallen into managing the
campaign -- where Ty was, he just shrugged and said he had to go. The
same thing happened with the next four people I asked.
Pretty soon, I was alone in that room. It felt like a mortuary.
I called his house and they told me he wasn't home yet, so I left
my name and number. When he hadn't called back, I called again at nine-
thirty and they told me he'd gone to bed early because he wasn't feeling
well.
I didn't see him around school the next day, a Thursday, but I did
notice that some of his mimeographed campaign posters were missing. I
knew he worked after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays and I knew where,
so I hitched a ride out to the shopping center to discount store where
he was a stock clerk. When I saw his battered old junker in the parking
lot, I felt better -- whatever was going on, Ty was not too sick or hurt
to go to work.
I found him in the back of the store, unloading boxes of toasters
from the back of a truck pulled right up to the loading dock. There were
two other guys working with him. One of them noticed me and said
something and the other turned and muttered something to Ty. The two
other guys were staring at my tits -- I was wearing a tank top, but they
were still too big to hide. Ty saw me, took a deep breath and told the
other guys he was going to take a short break.
I followed him off the loading dock and we went back to stand near
the trees that lined the truck road behind the store.
"What's going on, Ty? I went to 128 to find you and -- "
"I'm withdrawing from the election."
"What? Why?"
"And we can't be together any more."
"What the hell -- "
"That's all there is to it." He started to walk away but I grabbed
his arm and jerked him back toward me.
"Like hell it is. You tell me what's going on and you tell me now!"
"It doesn't matter -- "
"It does to me!"
So then he took an envelope from his pocket and from the envelope
he took the photographs and held them out to me. I recognized the top
two; they'd been missing from George's basement workshop. I didn't
recognize the others, because I'd never seen them. But I knew when they
were taken. There I was laying on my back, sucking a huge cock with a
dripping, open pussy right over my face.
I was stunned, but managed to say, "I don't get it."
"If I run in the election, I'll win. If I win, these photos -- and
some films, I was told -- start making the rounds. You'll be ruined.
Your family will be ruined."
"Who -- "
"I don't know. There was a letter with the pictures. No return
address, no signature. It just said quote that if a nigger won the
school election, his white cunt was going to be the famous underaged
piece of ass in the state of Ohio unquote."
"They're bluffing."
He snorted. "I don't think so. And I don't know how they found out
what we did unless someone -- like you -- told them."
"I didn't tell a soul! And who told all the people in 128 it was my
fault?"
He handed me the envelope. It was addressed to Chuck.
I felt my guts go icy and I thought for a minute I was going to be
sick. Ty was right. They weren't bluffing. And I knew who they were,
too. And he was right about us not being together again.
"I'm so sorry, Ty. I'm so -- " I couldn't say anything else, so I
just shook my head and ran away from him, crying.
I walked all the way home, about six miles, and didn't get there
till past dark. Mom was pissed off, but by the time I got home, she
wasn't nearly as pissed off as I was and when I told her that this
wasn't the time to start with me, she got the message and turned into
superMom, wanting to know if I wanted to talk about it. I told her I had
to work it out for myself.
And that's what I did. I figured it out for myself. Ed Sautter had
stolen the photos from George's workshop and he had sent the hate mail
and blackmail threat. It didn't seem likely that he'd done it alone,
either. That kind of racist is a coward and can never do anything alone.
They always have to have a half-dozen or so people helping them, usually
hiding their faces.
I called Roger the next day and told him what had happened. I asked
him if Ed couldn't get in trouble with the law for having that stuff in
his house. He explained about search warrants and said he'd ask a buddy
on the State Police. When he called me back, he said Sautter could make
a stink and drag a lot of stuff out in court, if it got to court. But,
he said, his pal had told him there was someone else who'd be interested
and if I wanted, Roger would take care of it.
He wouldn't tell me anything else. He told me I'd have to trust
him. I finally agreed to let him take care of it. I didn't hear anything
else for about three days, during which time the Ty-less election came
and went.
The Toledo Blade story reported that the coroner had ruled it an
accident. Sautter had apparently been taking drugs and stumbled into the
pool, striking his head on the edge as he fell. His roommate found him
floating, in the morning. He hadn't heard Sautter return from his
business meeting with three men in a black Lincoln. The roommate thought
Sautter had sold much of his photography equipment to the men, because
Sautter and two of the men had pretty well cleaned out his darkroom. The
police said more than thousand in cash had been found in Sautter's
pocket, so they gave the story credence.
The roommate and Sautter's girlfriend were so shaken by the
tragedy, said the newspaper, that they were going to leave the area and
try to start their lives over. Their exact destinations were undecided.
Years later, of course, I figured out who Roger had called and why
they'd been so persuasive. After all, Ed was cutting into their territory
by making porno films. And he was jeopardizing their whole business
because citizens tend to get outraged at all porno films when something
involving minors get into distribution, even willing minors.
At the time, though, the only thing that puzzled me was who had let
on to what Ty and me had done that long, weeping night. I was mooning
around the house, all morose and sad because of how good I'd imagined we
could be together -- a luxury I could indulge because we hadn't been
together long enough for all the normal hassles and irritations to mar
the dream -- and I'd sort of fixated on figuring out who had spilled the
beans. Maybe Ty had told one of his friends and he'd said something?
That didn't seem like Ty. Or had we been seen? Who?
I found out by an accidental, chance remark. Jeanne was a year
behind me and still going to the prison school. Her eighth-grade class
had been treated to a one-day photography workshop run by guess which
guest teacher? You got it. He noticed the similarity in names, asked her
after the class, pumped her for information about me and tried -- and
failed -- to talk her into posing for him.
"When I told him you were always with Ty, he got all red in the
face, but he said he was okay, so I didn't think anything about it."
But he had. And it had led to his death, to Ty's not running in a
school election he would surely have won -- and all the good things that
might have come of that -- and, not incidentally, to breaking my heart.
She hadn't had the least idea the damage she was doing. Hell, I would
have told him as much, myself. But very innocently and openly, she'd
done something that caused me to hurt like I'd only hurt once before.
[I promise. I'll tell you...later.]
I sort of withdrew from everything after that. I quit the school
paper and really buckled down to the books. I didn't have a social life,
except for one weekend I stayed out with Charlene (and actually spent
most of the time naked, with Roger). My grades soared and I discovered
the library and then I discovered Jane Austin and Emily Bronte and,
finally, Colette. I turned into a bookworm. Mom was ecstatic. Jeanne was
puzzled. Dad was...well, he was Dad. Even Alexis the Pure was impressed.
I started writing letters to my phantom step-brother, some of which I
even mailed and he wrote back. Then I joined Pen Pal and started writing
to kids around the world.
It passed the time. The endless Toledo gray winter came and went
and then it was spring and I took to reading in the park, when I could.
I found myself spending most of what little social time I had with
freaks -- so-called, because in those days, you were either a Freak or a
Straight -- who were the only ones (besides nerds) who read books for
pleasure.
In May of '68 I met Terrence Molonari and his twin, older brothers,
while I was hitching to Navarre Park for a -- don't laugh -- poetry
reading.
I never got to the poetry reading.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Okay. So...Terry. And that's when I began to grow up, no thanks to
him or his twin, older brothers. But they were responsible for my
becoming responsible, in a way.
I was trying to hitch a ride out to the park, where a bunch of
Freaks were having a poetry reading. I was wearing one of those, uh,
granny dresses, with an empire waist high under my tits -- which were a
good 30 inches, which doesn't sound like much except that the rest of me
was still kid-small -- and all sorts of billowy fabric around a 19-inch
waist and 26-inch hips, hiding it all. My hair was still long, then,
almost to the small of my back, and I was wearing a big ol' straw hat
and heart-shaped sunglasses. I figured I looked sophisticated and
mature, with my book -- Tennyson's poetry -- and my get-up.
So when a beat up old '64 'Stang pulled over with Terrence Molinari
behind the wheel, I thought I had a lift, and that was that, I mean,
Terry was the official mascot. Really. He was too small and skinny to
play anything except intramurals, but he loved sports so much that he'd
become a cheerleader and usually dressed up as the school mascot, in
this really ratty-looking bulldog costume. Terry was nearsighted and
wore glasses that looked like coke-bottle bottoms and always wore a
Detroit Tigers or Lions hat and had braces and was unbearably polite.
His voice cracked a lot, too, which was in keeping with his looks, since
at 16, he somehow seemed more like 13 or 14.
I went over and bent down to look through the passenger's side
window. "Hi, Terry!"
He was staring for a moment, then said, "Oh, Marie! I almost didn't
recognize you." Then I realized that he'd been staring down the front of
the dress when I bent over. "I'm uh, going out to Bargain City. Can I
drop you somewhere?"
"Navarre Park?"
"Sure!"
It was a really sunny day and what I was wearing turned transparent
for a moment when I was standing on the sunny side of the car. It was a
manual shift and he handled it well. He was more lean than skinny, I
realized as I watched the way the muscles on his arm corded when he
rather easily shifted the notoriously cranky Ford transmission.
"Uh, nice dress," he said. Terry was not known for reticence and it
was unlike him to seem tongue-tied. I wondered and sneaked a glance.
Little Terry had a not-so-little hard-on showing through his jeans.
"Thanks. What do you like best about it?"
He chewed his lower lip for a moment and then blurted, "What I saw
inside it oh-jeez-I-can't-believe-I-said-that."
I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. He started to blush and I
felt bad for laughing. "Oh, Terry, you can be so sweet sometimes." I
pushed my hat back, then scooched over and kissed him on the cheek,
pressing my boobs into his arm. The blush faded, but the hard-on visibly
throbbed.
I stayed that way next to him, enjoying the effect I was having on
him. I also liked the way he smelled -- a little sweaty, but somehow
fresh and clean and sweet. My nipples were tightening when we stopped
for a light near the edge of the park and another car pulled alongside.
The horn beeped. "Hey, Terry -- hi, Marie!" It was a couple of the guys
from the basketball team. "So, Terry, finally got a girlfriend?" They
all laughed and his Terry's returned.
And all at once I realized that Terry had probably been the
opposite of me: a late bloomer and innocent. And that had certainly
gotten him a good deal of teasing. Yet he'd stayed loyal to the oafs
who'd teased him and treated him like a pet. So I decided to strike a
blow for the little guy, so to speak.
"I hope so," I said and caressed his face, then ran my hand down
over his chest and lower, out of sight from them. "Trust me," I
whispered. I put my hand on his thigh, but from their vantage --
Right. They went silent for a moment. I knew the way they saw me: a
sex-bomb flower child. And the runt had gotten me, when none of them
ever would. Eat your hearts out, fellas.
"The light's green," I whispered.
"So are they," he answered without moving his lips. I grinned and
kissed his neck, just behind the jawbone. He tasted of Clearasil.
"Be seein' ya, guys," he said and sedately shifted and pulled away.
The road through the park was pretty empty. "Thanks," he said quietly.
I was impressed that he knew what I'd been doing. I hadn't thought
of Terry as a very perceptive guy. Or sexy. But I was cuddling against
him and enjoying it and he'd been perceptive, so I was changing some
attitudes on the fly, so to speak.
"Uh, where do you want me to drop you?"
I glanced down at the furiously throbbing bar within his jeans and
simply could not resist. "I was going over by the pond, for a poetry
reading, but I could be talked out of it."
He swallowed, twice, before croaking. "Uh, how?"
"By an invitation to spend some time alone with you somewhere. It
wasn't all for show, you know."
"Oh, sure, you've been fantasizing about me in the shower, huh?"
"Never." I sniffed his neck. "But -- I don't know, Terry. Right
now, something about watching you driving, feeling you all lean and hard
next to me, the way you smell -- I don't know. But I'd like us to be
alone someplace."
He took a deep breath. "I want to ... do things with you. Every guy
in school does." He swallowed again. "My house should be empty."
"Should be?"
"Dad's working -- " His father owned a Texaco station. " -- and Mom
is out in Clay Center, visiting, and my brothers are out on the boat,
fishing. That's where they said they'd be."
We reached the other side of the park. He stopped at the light and
looked me right in the eye. "If you'd still like to ..." He let it trail
off. "It's no problem to drop you at the poetry reading."
I slid my hand from his thigh to his bulge and squeezed. His eyes
closed and he exhaled softly. His cock was bigger than I'd have expected
on such a little guy, and it was hard as a piece of steel. I leaned up
and kissed the point of his chin -- no Clearasil there, thank heavens --
and said, "Will you show me your room?"
"If you insist."
I liked that.
We drove in silence for a few minutes, taking the service road
paralleling Route 280, then switched off onto old State Route 2. We were
out in Curtice, now -- farm country. It was pretty and smelled clean.
For some reason, I was very sensitive to odors that day. Lucky for me.
For about three miles, we didn't say a word, but I finally had to
ask: "You've never made it with a girl, have you?"
He puffed up and started to try bullshitting me, but then he kind
of half-grinned and said, "No. Never even got close." He laughed
sharply, briefly, almost snorting. "Never even copped a feel."
Terry downshifted and pulled off into a side road through some
evergreens, then turned into an almost-hidden driveway. Abruptly, we
were in front of a large garage. An old split-level ranch was connected
to it by a shingle-roofed walkway. When he turned off the engine, I
raised his right hand to my lips and kissed the palm for a moment, then
brought his hand down to rest on my left breast. He sighed as if he'd
been holding his breath.
"Now you have," I said, and pressed his hand into my breast.
"I always imagined they'd be softer, not nearly so firm," he said.
"It feels -- like coming back to a home I've never been to." He blurted
it out.
And that did it for me. I ran my arm around the back of his neck
and pulled myself up to kiss him on the lips, hard. I wanted him so
badly that I ached -- literally.
It was a long time before he calmed the frantic spearing of his
tongue into my mouth and learned to be less demanding and urgent, and
then the kiss became sweet, as well as passionate. His hand slid off my
tit and around my back and he held me close and then, suddenly, kissed
my ear. I ran my hand down over his chest and then to his crotch.
After about a minute of clutching, he said, "Want to go see my
room?" We both laughed -- but breathily.
I could only nod. He got out and came around to my side of the car
and held the door for me. Polite, like I said. I took his hand and he
led me into the house. I remember absolutely nothing about the
furnishings; all I remember was watching his cute buns through his jeans
as he led me down a hall to a closed door with a PRIVATE sign on it and
ushered me inside...after opening the padlock and removing it from the
hasp. The boy took privacy seriously.
Terry's room matched his personality perfectly. He was nuts for
sports and his room showed it. Hockey sticks and gloves over a dresser
neatly framed the various certificates he'd earned as assistant manager
and sometimes mascot for the various school teams -- and the stick and
glove, like baseball mitt and football on a nearby shelf -- showed signs
of hard use. The wallpaper was interrupted by posters of Al Kaline and
Henry Aaron and Joe Namath and Gordie Howe and Wilt Chamberlin and the
like. There were sports magazines neatly stacked on a night table and a
couple of shelves of paperbacks mounted on the wall between the two
windows. There was a little study desk with a Tensor lamp and on the
desk, face down to hold a place, was a paperback. I looked at the title:
"Dune." He tried to apologize, as if afraid I wouldn't think reading
fantasy or science fiction was sufficiently macho. When I told him I'd
read it and really liked --
[You did? How often?
[I've read it six or seven times. Something about it is very
calming to me. Okay?]
-- and really liked it, something in his face changed. The
eagerness was still there, but I think he was starting to see me as a
person, too, and not just this sex-bomb who was apparently going to let
him Do It With Her.
He started jabbering about the book, and what he thought was going
on. He was pacing and moving around a lot and I knew it was just nerves,
so I decided to remind him of why I was there. I stepped into his path,
leaving my sandals behind, threw my hat on the floor and grabbed him
around the waist.
"Terrence Molinari, if you don't stop talking and start kissing,
I'm going to -- to -- hold my breath and turn blue!"
He stared at me for a moment. I took his hand and put them on my
shoulders and stretched up on tiptoes to kiss his lips lightly.
"You like?"
He nodded.
"You try it."
He did -- a brief, lovely kiss.
"Longer."
He nodded and this time, as he kissed me, his hands slid back over
my shoulders and I grabbed him around the waist again. I could feel that
iron-hard bar of his young cock throbbing against me. I pressed closer
and the kiss got deeper. Tongues got into the action and I felt my
juices running hot and thick.
Within a few minutes, we were running our hands all over each other
and I had his leg trapped between my thighs. I was rubbing my cunny up
and down on his hard muscles.
I broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "Can you get my buttons?"
He blinked his eyes open at me. "Huh?"
"On the back of my dress. There're six buttons. Can you open them?"
He fumbled and as he did, I kissed his throat and what I could
reach of his chest, breathing deeply to savor his scent. Eventually, he
managed all six buttons, and also took time to kiss my ear and just
under it and give me a little lick on the side of my neck and the top of
my shoulder. There was something just slightly clumsy about it that
convinced me it was impulse and not artifice and that made it all the
more exciting.
"Now put you hands on my shoulders," I whispered and then: "Now
push the dress down over my arms."
He did it. The low cut of the loose dress, now even looser did the
rest, with the help of Gravity. The dress began to settle and I put my
arms at my sides and it slide right off me and lay in a soft circle
around my feet.
His hands had stopped at my elbows, and now he held my arms
lightly. He was staring down at my tits. His mouth was open slightly and
his breathing was short and soft and shallow. His lips had dried.
I felt my crinkly-hard nipples tighten even more and I could smell
my own sex juices.
"Put your hands on them," I said quietly. He complied with
trembling fingers, just letting his fingertips rest on them. After a few
seconds, he began moving his palms over them, learning their curves and
contours. Finally, he pressed them slightly, then cupped them and lifted
just a bit.
It was incredibly sensual. I felt a heat in my belly and moisture
on the insides of my thighs.
"What did you imagine it would be like?" I coaxed. "What did you
imagine doing with a girl the last time you jerked off?" Before he could
answer, I said, "That's what I want you to do -- indulge yourself."
He shook his head sharply, still caressing my boobs. "I d-don't
know what would hurt you and what might feel good -- "
"Don't worry; I'll tell you if something is uncomfortable. Why
don't you start like this -- "
I took his hand and led his fingers to my nipple. I pushed his
fingertips closed around the spiky nozzle and compressed them just a
bit. He didn't need much coaching after that. He grasped the other
nipple and began gingerly pinching and pulling and gently turning them.
Each touch and movement sent a lurching spasm through my belly and
straight to my cunt. My eyes half-closed and my knees started trembling.
When he bent and started sucking one nipple, I came. I'd never
gotten off just like that before, so it caught me by surprise. He bent,
fastened his lips, sucked -- too hard, actually -- and ran his tongue
over the tip of my nipple and bam! just like that, I came! I shook
slightly and my knees buckled.
Terry got scared by that and immediately stopped and caught me in
his arms. "The bed," I told him, regaining my stance. I stepped out of
the circle of my discarded dress and stepped back twice. The edge of his
bed hit the back of my legs and I started to sit, then caught myself. I
was so wet, my cunt juice would have saturated his bedspread, which had
a baseball-motif, drawings of Major Leaguers in various action scenes.
I'd almost decorated a sliding Maury Wills. I told Terry to get a big,
thick towel. He looked confused for a moment, but I just stared at him
until he disappeared through a side door. He returned a moment later
with a big beach towel. I spread it on the bed and sat, facing him.
"C'mere." I held my arms out to him. There was a little dark stain
at the end of the lump that was madly throbbing in his crotch. I reached
up and unbuttoned his shirt, pausing to kiss his chest and then his
abdomen as more and more flesh was exposed. I pushed the shirt back and
he got the idea, shrugging out of it as I unfastened his belt and the
waist of his jeans.
"Out of those sneakers." He worked them off without using his hands
or untying them. I leaned forward again, inhaling deeply of his scent
and feeling the juice just running out of my tight, swollen cunt. I
unsnapped his waistband and then pulled the zipper down. I squeezed his
cock through the jeans and briefs and was surprised: It seemed even
bigger and harder. I worked his jeans down over his knees, to his ankles
and the movement caused the head of his cock to pop out of the leg
opening of his Jockeys. It really was fat, his dick, and seemed to swell
by the moment -- not longer, but thicker.
I told him to stand at the foot of the bed. As he did it, I turned
and stretched out, with my hands over my head, pushing at the head
board, and my legs crossed at the knees.
"Now take those briefs off for me," I said, surprising myself with
the rasp in my voice. "And tell me what you want to do with me in your
bed, Terry."
He started working the white cotton off his skinny hips. "I want to
suck your nipples some more and touch you all over and then I want to
touch your -- between your legs."
Then the briefs were down and his cock was standing straight out,
throbbing upward in time with his heart bead and bobbing stiffly as he
shifted from one foot to the other, stepping out of his underwear. His
balls looked tight and firm and full.
"Do it," I demanded. "Just what you said."
He crawled over me and began madly kissing and licking all over my
breasts, pausing only to take one nipple or the other between his lips
and suck crazily, sometimes pulling his head up so he was tugging my
whole tit by the nipple. His tongue never stopped batting at the nozzle
and I had a couple of mini-orgasms. I took one of his hands in mine and
led it down over my belly to my cunt and guided him in his first
explorations. I taught his fingers to find my clit and once he found it,
he was fascinated by the effect his combined tit-licking and clit-
fingering had on me, which is to say, making me cum over and over.
His finger found the opening and slid into my cunt and he gasped,
"It's so wet and hot!"
I felt his cockhead throbbing against my thigh. It was leaving
little precum smears all over. I hatched a plan.
"C'mere," I told him. I took his hips in my hands and urged him to
crawl up over me while I wriggled down lower. His throbbing meat caught
momentarily against the underside of my tit and then sprung free. My
ankles were at the foot of the bed and he was again on all fours above
me, but this time with his cock right at mouth level.
I gripped his thick, hard young cock and pulled him down till the
glans was in my mouth. It was a mouthful, too! I closed my lips on his
shaft and put my hands on his hips as I began sucking. I didn't want him
fucking that thick dick too deeply into my mouth. I needn't have
worried, though. I'd known he was close to cumming; I just hadn't
realized how close.
As soon as my tongue moved against the little ridge on the
underside of his glans, he groaned a warning that he was going to cum.
And almost instantly did -- a long, thick powerful flood that would have
overflowed a tablespoon and easily filled my mouth. I swallowed and
sucked a little more and he did it again, moaning. I kept swallowing and
sucking as he shot five more of those geysers before they lessened in
quantity and force, and I kept sucking, milking him of the last drops
stored in those firm, virgin nuts. I moved my mouth up and down a few
times on his slightly shrinking shaft and he sighed piteously as I
licked and sucked him dry. His cum tasted thick and strong and somehow
very clean. I drank him dry and wished for more.
My hands were still on his hips, so I urged him to roll to the bed
beside me. He leaned over to kiss me, hesitated, and then went ahead and
kissed me anyhow, right on my spermy, slippery mouth. I don't think he
cared for the taste, because he didn't try to tongue me, but he went on
kissing me till I broke it off. I smiled at him.
"Oh, Marie, that was like nothing I ever imagined! I mean, I tried
to imagine what it would be like to be inside a woman when I was jerking
off and I imagined what it would be like to put it inside you, where I
had my finger. But I never dreamed anything could feel so good as -- "
His eyes widened.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing. I just -- " He closed his mouth and looked confused.
I thought I had it figured out. "I sucked your cock, so that makes
me a cocksucker, which is a bad thing, right?"
He looked sheepish. "Sorta."
"I liked sucking your prick. I wanted it. You liked me doing it and
when I started, you wanted it. If that's bad, I don't give a damn. No
one hurt, and two horny people made each other feel good."
He nodded slowly. "I guess so."
"Besides, I knew you were going to cum fast the first time and I
wanted to have you cum in my mouth because I have another new idea for
down there." I led his hand "down there" for illustration and put his
finger in me. I brought his hand to my mouth and licked the finger. I
tasted like what I was: a horny young woman who bathed before leaving
the house douched regularly, which is to say, I tasted good.
I smiled at him and the look on his face was first amazement and
then wonder. I didn't have to do Part Two. He put his hand back between
my legs, soaked his finger in my cunt and then licked it off himself.
"What do you think?"
"Different, a little sharp. Maybe I better try again."
He did and this time he arched one eyebrow and affected a British
accent. "An amusing little wine which shows great promise, Moneypenney."
"Is it Bond -- James Bond?"
He laughed. "I'm not Sean Connery."
"And I'm not Ursula Andress."
He ran his hand over me, cupping it over my breasts and splaying
his fingers over my belly and then my thighs. "Ursula Andress would eat
her heart out."
"I'd rather have her eat me out," I blurted and his eyes widened.
"You mean -- there?" he whispered. "I didn't know women did stuff
like that."
"Not all, but some. Some of us do. And like it a lot!"
"But -- how?"
"Want to learn? I was going to ask you anyhow..."
He brought my hand to his cock, which had -- bless teenagers! --
resumed its previous, formidable state. "I don't want to seem like a
stiff, but -- "
"Believe me, I have plans for that. But first -- ?"
"You'd really like that?"
"Believe me, Terry, what I'm going to teach you is going to make a
lot of women very happy -- and make you very, very popular with them.
Trust me?"
He nodded.
"Start by licking my tits again -- "
I got no farther because he had the idea. A quick study, my young
Terry was. And he not only mouthed my quivering boobs, he couldn't stop
running his hand over me, enjoying the feel of my smooth, barely teenage
body under its light, slippery sheen of perspiration. I came a couple of
more times, little orgasms, before his lips worked their way down over
my belly and abdomen. He diverted to my thighs, probably stalling before
the Big Moment, but I didn't mind. His tongue was wonderfully energetic
and wet and never tired of thrilling my flesh.
But finally he was kneeling with his legs to one side of me and I
pulled my knees up and apart as he started kissing his way down into the
vee offered to him. His breath was like fire on my exposed cunt lips and
throbbing clit.
And then he stopped. "You'll have to help me find the right spots."
"I will, but you're doing fine in the search," I said throatily.
And indeed he was. His tongue went into the hollows between my
thighs and my swollen cunt lips. When he shifted from one side to the
other, his breath and sometimes the tip of his tongue just... barely...
grazed my labia and that tantalizing touch made me groan and buck. And
the juices just flooded out of me. I was so close to having a really big
cum, I thought I was going to shatter with the tension. I was almost
writhing -- almost, because I was trying not to twitch away from his
tongue!
He slid his hands under my butt and held me tightly, and then
lifted my ass and pulled my cunt up to his waiting lips. He kissed my
cunt and then stuck his tongue inside, licking as much as he could. It
felt great, but it wasn't quite the thing I needed for the big blast. I
finally took my hands away from my tits, where my fingers had been
pulling and playing with my nipples, and grabbed the back of his head.
"Higher!" I growled, guiding him up toward the top of my cunt.
"Lick there -- ahhh!"
As soon as his tongue hit my clit, he knew that was the target. He
even closed his lips around it and sucked on it as he lapped at it. I
sucked in a long breath, noisily, and then I clamped my thighs on his
ears and arched and came, screaming. I came in one long, continuous
orgasm. I had never cum like that -- not when I was being double-fucked
at the party-cum-orgy on Kelly's Island, not even with my sister or even
with that bitch Susan, who was the best cunt-lapper I knew. Maybe it was
anticipation or the unplanned teasing or -- I still don't know. All I
know is that with Terry, I thought I was going to die from the pleasure
and intensity of my orgasm.
When I finally fell back and pulled his face away from my over-
sensitized clit, I continued to shudder with pleasure. I pulled him up
to me and grabbed him and kissed him. Again, he hesitated for a split-
second before kissing fully, and he hesitated before opening his lips to
my tongue -- and then he plunged in and we kissed frantically,
passionately, tasting myself and his cum on my tongue and him tasting
himself and my juices on his.
And more -- I felt what was nearly pain inside me. I wanted his
hard young cock in my cunt, wanted it desperately. I rolled him on top
of me, savoring his lean, young weight and the promise of his prick
pulsing against the insides of my widespread thighs.
"I want you inside me!"
I reached between us and gripped his rigid stave. It felt so hot! I
guide him up over me and -- I don't know why; I'd never done this
instinctively before -- I raised my legs high and wide as I guided him
to the opening.
As soon as his knob was in my labia, he pushed down and in, one
long stroke that hid his cock inside me completely. I groaned loudly and
he murmured incoherently as he pressed, as if to get in still deeper.
His cock was a perfect fit: stretching my cunt wide, just barely
reaching the end of my canal. His pubic hair ground into my barely
furred pubis and the bony ring at the base of his cock ground against my
clit.
I wrapped my arms around his back and clawed at him as he began
humping me -- because that's what he did: hump me. He just banged away
in these short, desperate thrusts that were driving me farther and
farther up the bed, till we were both struggling with the logistics of
the headboard while frantically staying linked. I knew he wasn't going
to last long, sucked off or not, but it seemed to go on for a long time
-- and then he got ready to cum.
I can still remember feeling his balls lurch against my butt and
his cock swelling inside me, literally swelling, and then he jammed
himself so hard into me and against me that it almost hurt and then he
was cumming in me. I could feel the lurch-lurch-lurch as the stuff shot
through his cock, and then, eventually, as he kept cumming in me, I felt
the heat of his juice beginning to suffuse my cunt.
And he kept cumming, more and longer than I'd dreamed possible. His
lovely young balls kept manufacturing loads of hot cum to flood me and
even when it was filling my cunt and draining back out, he kept cumming.
Just the idea of it was making me cum, so my cunt kept contracting
around him and making his flow hesitate and that made him half-sob with
pleasure and cum some more.
Finally, even he had to stop cumming. His cock stayed half-hard
inside me and he started to collapse on top of me. I tried to keep us
connected as I rolled him to the side, but it didn't work and his prick
slid out of me. Followed immediately by enough sperm to father several
counties, if not countries. I was just starting to get enough pubic hair
for it to be visible; now it was matted. His cum and my juices made my
thighs glisten.
I got up on my knees with my legs spread and put my hands between
my thighs and started scooping and rubbing the runoff over my belly. It
made me feel so wonderfully depraved and slippery!
He reached over and his hand joined mine, only his roamed higher,
slicking my tits, too. My nipples were very, very hard and he tried to
pinch them, but his fingertips slid off and that felt good, too. About
five minutes of that and I was ready to cum again and he had the
equipment to handle the job, too -- his cock was fully hardened again.
I climbed over him and lowered my cunt onto his dick. I settled
down easily, right to the hair and sat back till my arms were on his
thighs, behind me, and then I started moving my hips up and down,
slowly, savoring the feeling from that angle and the different way it
rubbed inside me. It was too bad we couldn't keep doing it that way, but
my arms were getting tired and when I came down, sometimes my butt was
mashing on his balls. The last thing I wanted to do was mash those
lovely balls!
I pulled off him and we both groaned involuntarily. "I've got this
great idea," I told him. "Stand beside the bed."
He was young, fit and limber -- but at the moment, his movements
were jerky and almost uncoordinated. But he did what I wanted as I took
his pillow and doubled it over and slid it under the beach towel. Then I
lay with my hips on the pillow and my tits squashed into the bed and my
feet dangling over the edge of the bed.
"Now step up and put it in," I said softly.
"In your -- your butt?" He sounded shocked.
I was shocked. "No! Where did you ever get that idea?"
His rigid prick was at exactly the right height. He nuzzled the
knob against my cunny and pushed down and in. Somehow, it felt tighter
inside me and that made it feel all that much better. "My brothers say
that's the best, tightest thing in the world, that it makes girls scream
with pleasure -- but you feel so good in the right place!" His hips had
begun moving even as he spoke and his hard abdomen was pounding faster
and faster against my upturned butt. His cock seemed to be going even
farther inside me, now, and I felt a strong cum building.
Every time he pushed into me, his balls swung forward to brush my
clit and that felt wonderful and gave me an idea. "Hold still," I said.
I managed to work my hand under me and back to my cunt and got my
fingertips over my clit. Then I closed my legs and said, "Fuck hell out
of me, baby!"
"Damn, it feels so gooood!" he moaned and then started pounding
away, long, hard strokes that plunged his fat glans far inside me. I was
rubbing and twiddling and started cumming like gangbusters. My vaginal
muscles were spasming almost constantly on him.
"Feels so damn good!" he wailed, his strokes getting shorter and
faster. I felt his balls against the backs of my fingers and they were
hard and full. His cock was swelling inside me and I was cumming and
cumming and screaming into the bed when he finally jammed himself all
the way into me and held fast, pouring his hot, copious teenage cum into
my clutching little cunt. He really let it go this time, amazing me with
his prolific load. I mean, it was his third time in about an hour, and
it seemed like there was more than first two times.
The load finally stopped -- the hose ran dry, so to speak -- and
his knees buckled. He was panting on the floor behind me and then he
kissed my butt -- two sweet little kisses, one to each cheek -- and then
he pushed his face between my legs and began licking my overflowing
pussy and my fingers. It felt really good, but the sheer sweetness of
the impulse just plain melted me.
"How much longer are we alone here?"
I felt him turning his face toward the nightstand, with the clock.
"About two hours."
"Get up here and hold me in your arms for a while and let's see
what happens."
He rolled me onto my back and turned me on the bed. I was as limp
as wet dough and let him move me around. Then he fell on the bed beside
me, catching his breath and pulled me into his arms. I guess the fun had
taken a toll on both of us, because he jerked awake, startling me out of
a light doze.
"Jeez, I thought for a minute there -- what time is it?" He looked.
"Marie, we gotta get moving! My brothers will be back soon!" Suddenly,
we were scrambling. I jammed toilet tissue into the crotch of my panties
to absorb more of the continuing runoff. We dressed faster than I would
have believed possible and were back out on Route Two, westbound, in
less than ten minutes.
"Whooo-eee!" Terry said, looking up in his rearview. "They just
turned into the drive!"
Then he laughed. "Well, if they'd caught us they would have stopped
teasing me about not having done it yet!"
I made him promise me that he wouldn't tell them he'd made it with
me. He could tell them we were going out, he could tell them he'd made
it with someone else. But I did not want a pair of older guys -- who
advised their kid brother that fucking a girl's ass was the best because
it made her scream -- knowing I was willing. No way. I didn't explain
that to him, of course, but I made him promise. And we decided to take
in a movie at the Woodville Drive-In the following Friday. Wouldn't that
be nice? Making out in a car after making passionate love in a bed.
Yecchh. But I liked Terry and I did want to see him and the movie looked
promising, whatever it was.
When I got home, Mom and St. Alexis were out and Dad had already
left for his shift. Jeanne was in our room, just sitting in the corner
on her bed, looking through the Sears Big Book. She didn't even look up
when I came in. I knew the signs. I washed my face and hands and went to
her and pulled her head against my breasts and held her while she cried.
After she calmed down and relaxed a little, I took a shower and got
out my secret kit to douche and then we played a couple of games of
Michigan rummy until she seemed more relaxed. This was not, I decided,
the right time to tell he of my adventure with Terry.
The next couple of days were pretty ordinary. Terry called daily
and we chatted about books, of all things, and on Thursday he told me we
had a choice of plans for Friday night. We could go to the movie or, if
I wanted, we could go to a birthday party for one his friends.
"You don't want to miss your friend's party," I said. "That would
be fun!" I was thinking what fun it would be to attend a party in
someone's basement, surrounded by 16-year-olds swilling beer they
weren't used to drinking. On the other hand, I knew it would be
important to Terry to let his friends see him with a date who didn't
look like a poodle, and it would be educational to see Terry socializing
with his peers.
"Are you sure? I mean, most of the folks there are going to be sort
of jock-types, straight, and I know most of your friends are more freak-
types, into reading and stuff."
"Yes, you're right. Most of my friends read books like `Dune' or
call me up and talk to me about Kurt Vonnegut novels. Not like your
crowd at all."
He laughed. "Okay, okay. We'll leave before it gets totally
strange." He assured me it was strictly casual-slob attire and we agreed
on a time.
I decided to make sure his friends knew that Terry's date was
decidedly of the female persuasion. When he showed up at the driveway, I
went out to the car wearing a white dress shirt tailored for an adult
man and a pair of new jeans that hadn't been washed and shrunk to
politically correct fit or hue. I was carrying a beach bag. He looked at
me kind of oddly, but made no faces or negative comments.
"By the way, where are we going?"
"Oh, Bob lives out near Casper's Corners, but we're having the
party at his friend's house on Woodville Road. The parents are away for
a few days."
"Convenient."
"Yeah. I used to have a thing for the guy's sister -- she's really
gorgeous -- but I found out she's also a real slut and maybe a little
crazy."
"Mmmm." I was half-listening. We were just turning onto Woodville
Road and I was looking for a good place --
"Hey, can you pull into the shopping center for a minute?"
"Sure." He signaled and turned into the big parking lot. "Where?"
"Over by the furniture store."
"But it's closed."
"That's the idea." He complied. When he turned off the engine, I
kicked off my shoes and slithered out of my jeans. Underneath I was
wearing a micro-skirt. Then I reached inside my shirt and unsnapped the
ludicrous bra and shrugged and wriggled till I had worked one arm out of
it. A few seconds later, the bra was history. Then I rolled up the
sleeves of the shirt to my elbows, tied the tails high around my
midriff, leaving my belly bare, and unbuttoned the top five buttons on
the shirt.
He stared at me for a moment. "The hell with the party. I'll be
spending the evening fighting guys off."
"That's the idea. Let them drool and envy you."
"I don't want envy; I want you!"
"Really?" I batted my eyelashes at him and caressed the steel bar
in his jeans.
"Marieeeee..."
"Later -- I promise. But let's go to the party for a little while,
first, okay?"
He growled not very convincingly, which got us both laughing and
trying to come up with ever-more-outrageous predictions of the madness I
would inspire. I still wasn't paying much attention to where we were
going. When he pulled into the driveway of my cousins' house I asked why
we were stopping there.
"This is where the party is. Tod's folks are away for a few days
and is something wrong?"
"You had a crush on Darlene?"
"Yes -- hey, do you know her?"
"She's my cousin."
"No shit?" He was genuinely amazed.
"No shit." I looked at the house next door. It was dark and the
driveway was empty. Tod's was not. Four cars were already parked there
and two more were parked along the berm in front of the house. We got
out of the car and I asked him if he was friends with Tod.
"Not really. I try to stay away from him for the most part. He's
always starting up with people and he's not real bright."
"Promise me right now, Terrence Molinari -- if I tell you to get me
out of there, you'll do it."
"Well, sure, but what -- "
"Let's just say that I do not want Tod or anyone like him being too
close to me."
"Are you sure you're only thirteen? You're awfully smart. y'know."
When we opened the front door, we understood why no one had
answered the bell; they couldn't hear it. We were greeted by a wall of
noise, cigarette smoke (some of it almost certainly tobacco) and beer
aroma. Yes, it was going to be quite some party. Somehow, the four cars
accounted for about 16 teenaged partyers. The decor -- Hefner as
interpreted by Carlo Ponti -- was exactly right for this get-together,
as it was rapidly deteriorating into a modern version of the Roman orgy.
Within five minutes of our arrival, the resemblance to ancient Rome
cranked up a notch: One of the guys who'd been guzzling Black Label on
the couch suddenly lurched past us, desperately heading for the toilet
where he could offer prayers to Ralph.
[C'mon. You know -- you kneel in front of the commode and fervently
groan, "Raaaaallllph!"]
The birthday boy was in Darlene's bedroom, we learned. Getting his
birthday present.
"Wish it was your birthday?" I whispered to Terry, elbowing him in
the side.
Before he could answer, someone bellowed, "Whoaaaa -- Marie is
here! Looking good! Man, I'd know that cute ass anywhere!"
And I'd know that asinine braying anywhere: Tod.
Terry and I turned slowly. Tod, true to porcine form, was standing
there with one arm around a girl trying her best to look like the bimbo
she was born to be. His hand was hanging down over her absurdly filled
halter. His other hand was wrapped around a quart bottle of Ballantine
ale. The bottle was two-thirds empty; Tod was two-thirds full.
"Hey, Terry, been getting some from little ol' Marie?"
Terry started to lean forward, but I turned and slung a restraining
arm around his waist, crushing myself into his side. I looked back at
Tod. "What do you think?" I asked, and ran my hand down Terry's leg
about halfway to his knee, then squeezed the inside of his trouser leg
as if enjoying something there. "Best of all," I purred, "he's got a
brain and a sense of honor. Have you heard of those?"
All the conviviality faded from Tom's piggish face and he looked
like he was considering something other than a friendly reply. But then
the birthday boy made an appearance -- conspicuously tucking his shirt
in, once he was sure he'd been noticed by enough people -- and that took
the edge off the moment. I led Terry away, toward the kitchen, while the
bimbette whispered something to Tod -- probably that there was a bedroom
available; she looked like the type who'd crave someone like Tod.
A couple of the other guys came up to say Hi to Terry and someone
put a beer in his hand. He drank it absently. The music changed to
something more dance-able -- it might have been the Rascals or Joplin --
and Terry and I danced. I took a break and had a beer and then danced
with someone else while Terry talked sports, then he danced with me
again. We both had another beer and we danced with each other and
various people. Tod still hadn't reappeared.
And suddenly, it was almost eleven and Terry was weaving just ever
so slightly and I was feeling only a bit of pain myself. Someone shushed
the rest of us and beckoned and we followed him down the hallway...
...to Darlene's bedroom, it turned out, where she was riding her
brother.
I'd been told no tall tales. Tod was hung like the proverbial
horse. And Darlene -- quite obviously stoned on beer and sex and who
knew what else -- was digging every abundant square inch of her
brother's oversized dick.
The bed was a mess and the insides of her thighs, when visible,
were well-painted with a copious overflow of many loads of semen. Even
so, she was gloriously sexy. All that long blonde hair, curly and
jostling with her eager riding, hung down her slim back to her tiny
waist and slim hips and taut little ass. Her legs were as long and curvy
as they could be and when she sat up straight, I could see her tits had
grown to be really lovely half-melons, barely jiggling in their stiff-
nippled glory despite her violent humping.
I say "when visible" because her thighs weren't visible for long.
Maybe a dozen of us watched this wild, drunken incest for a full three
minutes before one of the guys groaned, shucked his shorts and climbed
over them -- and immediately began working his dick up her ass.
Darlene screamed when he put it in and screwed again when he sank
down on her and screamed with each thrust. But her screams subsided into
whimpering sobs and moans and then she got into it and kept groaning,
"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
Both males complied.
I expected the guy in her ass to cum first, but Tod couldn't hang
on. He lurched upward and groaned. He had small balls, I noticed, and
didn't cum for very long. Darlene bucked all the harder against the guy
in her ass and expelled Tod's dick. Even limp, it was impressive. I
wondered at how she could have withstood it when she was only 10 or 11.
If it had been attached to anyone else, I might have been turned on by
the sight of it. As it was, I was repulsed.
The guy in her ass rolled onto his back, his cock still secured
inside her anus. He locked his hands over her marvelous tits and pulled
her back against him. She splayed her legs wide and demanded that
someone else fuck her. One of the guys finally complied, pushing his
cock up her slimy slit.
"Want to go?" I asked Terry quietly. "Or do you want a turn at
her?"
His eyes said he was drunk, but his voice was sure: "Uh-uh. She's a
slut. Doesn't care. I want someone who cares." He hugged my waist to
him. "Let's get out of this place."
But walking the corridor from the scene of the scene, I knew Terry
had drunk too much beer to drive. And he began to suspect it when he
caromed off a door jamb.
"Can you drive?" he asked me.
"You've got to be kidding."
He puffed out his breath. "Shit. We can do one of three things.
Hang around here till I sober up. Hang around here and get totally
wrecked. Or call one of my brothers to come get us."
"What about the car?"
It took him a moment to figure out what I was talking about. He
shrugged. "We'll lock it up. I've seen head-ons on Woodville Road; I'd
rather chance someone stealing the car."
I squeezed him to me. "Call 'em."
He nodded over-enthusiastically and almost did a one-and-a-half
gainer into the red shag rug. "Good ideeee-a." Totally wrecked. But we
found the phone and I dialed for him -- his coordination was shot -- and
after thirty seconds of slurred conversation, he hung up and grinned.
"The calvary is on the way."
[What? "Cavalry? So what? You knew what I meant! Besides, John
Wayne always said it that way, and who are you to argue with the Duke --
pilgrim?]
A couple of the guys left, accompanied by Tod's bimbette. She'd
been completely grossed out seeing him fuck his sister while another guy
fucked his sister's ass. She was also about three sheets to the wind. I
had the distinct feeling that the three guys with her were going to
enjoy the way she got even with Tod.
We went out and sat against the hood of the 'Stang for a little
while. Terry didn't say much beyond an occasional apology and expression
of surprise at having gotten so thoroughly drunk so easily. The night
was clear and there weren't more than zillion or so stars and I found
myself thinking of the way my phantom step-brother could point out stars
and constellations as if they were old friends or streets that he knew
well and, for the first time, I was asking myself what Dan would think
of the guy I'd chosen to be with. In this case, I figured he'd like him
and that meant a lot to me, for no good reason whatever.
His brothers rolled up in a VW Microbus -- a van, for those who
don't remember -- and Terry introduced me to Gary and Gerry. Not only
were they twins, they were identical and about 19 or 20 years old. There
was some resemblance to Terry, but it was mostly in the face, and even
there it wasn't a lot. They were dark-complected, and they were big,
strong guys.
We got the back door open and Terry sprawled inside. I think he was
unconscious before he hit the completely surprising blue shag rug. Yes,
friends, Gary and Gerry had turned the back of the VW Microbus into a
bachelor pad. Oh, joy.
Gary was driving and Gerry turned in the passenger-side seat to
give me a good eyeing. "Marie -- yeah, I heard about you. Jeez, I
thought they were making up stories."
"Who are `they'?" I asked, looking him over. The resemblance was
strong and I thought that if Terry grew up to look like his brothers,
I'd be one happy girl. They were cute! "And what were the stories?"
Both laughed quietly -- chuckled, I guess -- and Gerry said, "Ahhh,
you know how it is. Guys talk about girls and when you see a really
pretty or sexy girl, you tell someone and word gets around. Usually it's
pretty far off the mark, y'know? Exaggeration and all."
"Except they weren't exaggerating by much about you," Gary added.
"So how were they wrong?"
Gerry shrugged. "They had your figure wrong, a little. They said
you were bigger through the, uh, top, y'know?"
"Well, for your size, they are pretty big," Gary said. "What do you
measure, anyhow?"
"Don't you think that's getting a little personal?"
"Hey, it's all in the family," Gerry said, grinning and winking.
"Meaning?"
"Listen, we're just curious about what our little brother's been
getting himself into," he said, adding, "Oooof! What the hell was that
for?"
The "that" was his brother's elbow in his ribs. And Gerry realized
its meaning immediately. "Oh, shit!"
So Terry had told them what and with who. Great. At least no one
had suggested I get butt-fucked so I could scream. But there was no
pretending I wasn't hurt by Terry's betrayal and disappointed in his
revelation. And I was mad as hell at him for it. Plus, I was terribly
horny and had been looking forward to being with Terry later -- except
that "later" found Terry passed out. Add to all of that the fact that
I'd had a couple of beers and they were making me feel a bit wild...
"Can we pull over here for a minute?" I pointed left. We were
approaching the Great Eastern shopping center. The miniature golf course
was brightly lit and there was a big tractor-trailer rig unloading in
front of the Kroger's, but otherwise, it was dark.
"Yeah, no problem," Gary said. He signaled and turned. He moved
toward the miniature golf.
"No -- over by the Lane's." The drug store's area was dark and
empty.
As soon as the microbus was stopped, I stood and untied the knot
I'd made of the shirttails. Then I unbuttoned the last three buttons. I
held my arms wide, so the shirt was open.
Gary and Gerry stared, their mouths literally gaping. "Big enough?"
"Holy shit," Gary said, but he drew it out to about six syllables.
I stepped forward, in between the custom t Lindi
that had me hard in an instant.
I welcomed the two nymphets in. I was very composed and made idle chatter
while I made a pot of coffee and found out that the typing work involved
about 10 minutes of the machine and then a print run of about 20 minutes.
They were not expected home before 4 PM as they were supposed to be
having lunch at Lindi's house, but as her parents were away there was
no problem if they stayed at my place for the rest of the day.
...........The word processing done, tdesire that washed through me.
Then Gary got into the act. He put one arm around my waist and
nuzzled the other tit. Gerry brought his hand up my leg, then caressed
my thighs higher and higher, until his hand was under the microskirt and
he was lightly rubbing my Tricot-clad cunt with his knuckles.
"Wet already," he mumbled around my nipple.
"Show 'em to me," I said. Both had been rubbing their crotches and
neither needed elucidation. There was some fumbling and shifting and
then two large, extremely hard 19-year-old cocks were pulsing in the dim
illumination. Gary's hand went to the hem of my microskirt and he peeled
it upward. Gerry began pulling my panties off. I did a two-step so he
could get them off my ankles, and then I was virtually naked to the
horny twins. The shirt was no obstacle at all and my microskirt was now
a thin band of fabric hanging about my waist as they fondled my barely
furred cunt and suckled at my tits. I was close to cumming already.
Terry was snoring.
"Now," I said, "Who would like to fuck me?"
"Me!" "Me!" they chorused.
"And who wants me to suck him?"
"Me!" "Me!" they chorused, again.
Gerry stopped nursing at my nipple long enough to look up at me and
say, "Why not both?"
Why not, indeed. I said nothing and unclipped the microskirt. Now
it was just me in my shirt. Gary turned his seat and guided me back till
I was sitting on his lap. I was so wet that he slid in easily, if
slowly. His dick was about eight inches long and a rather thick, and I
was still very tight. But I was wet, determined and unbelievably horny.
"You're so hot inside!" he gasped as I settled down on him. I
couldn't answer right away because I was cumming, hard.
Gerry, meanwhile, stood and offered me his cock at face level. I
put my hands on his waist and pulled him forward and took just the knob
in my mouth and started sucking. Gary reached around to pinch my tits
and play with them and I started cumming again. I ground my butt down
into Gary's lap as I came and sucked Gerry in a little deeper, vacuuming
as hard as I could in my frenzy. I slid my hand over to grip the base of
his cock and squeezed and jerked hard on his shaft. I felt his hands
lightly resting on my head. As I came again and sucked all the harder,
he moaned and swelled and then he was cumming in my mouth.
There was a lot of it. He came and came and came, flooding my
mouth. I swallowed, but there was more and it was starting to bloat my
cheeks. Some of it got out of my mouth and dribbled down my chin and his
cock. I kept sucking.
Then Gary groaned. He slid his hands down to my hips and jammed me
down onto his cock and bucked up at me, swelling inside me and then I
felt his cock lurch and fire. He came as much as his twin, and when
Gerry finally stopped trying to drown me, Gary kept flooding me. My cunt
was filled with his swelling meat, so there was no place for the jism to
go but down and out and it was bathing his thighs.
And I kept cumming.
Finally, even Gerry and Gary were spent. I still shook with
pleasure and would have fallen forward, but Gerry caught me and dropped
to his knees to take me in his arms while I sat, still impaled, on his
twin's softening but still impressive cock.
The sad thing was that, as pleasurable as it was, my enjoyment was
tempered by my desire for revenge on Terry. Oh, sure, I spent a lot of
time fucking like crazy to get even with Dan and prove to myself that he
was the one who'd missed out with his damn holier-than-thou attitude,
but that was different; I never expected Dan to know about it. Besides,
he was in New York fucking City, which might as well have been on the
other side of the damn galaxy; Terry was laying five feet from my
quivering ankles, snoring slightly in his beery splendor, while I let
his brothers use me as a toy for their pleasures.
Use me is just what they did, too -- because I encouraged them.
When Gerry helped me stand -- and his brother's dick came out with a
spermy plop! -- I lurched forward and buried his face in my tits. Well,
not exactly "buried," since they weren't really all that big, except
compared to the rest of me. But he did what he could to make me feel I'd
buried him, slurping and licking and turning his face rapidly from one
side to the other to cover the inner slopes with kisses and licks and
saliva, making me even hornier with his infectious enthusiasm.
After a few minutes of this, my motor was running, so to speak, and
I dropped into a crouch and began licking and otherwise encouraging
Gerry's dick to more quickly regain its stiffness. He didn't need one
hell of a lot of help.
The passenger-side seat they'd installed reclined almost completely
and Gerry moved some lever that caused it to do exactly that -- recline
almost fully. I climbed up and after some clumsy shifting, lowered my
again-aching pussy onto his stiff dick -- with my back to him. I gripped
his legs just above the knees -- for balance -- and slowly eased him
into me. He was as big and thick and hard as his brother had been, but
the way was eased not only by my additional juices, but also by the load
Gary had deposited. I leaned farther forward, reaching down to clasp his
ankles and pressing my nipples -- which were as stiff as could be --
into his lower thighs and let his hands guide my tiny hips up and down.
In that position, it felt like a horse was fucking me. Every time
he pushed me down on him, the head of his cock bottomed out in me and I
gave a little gasp. It hurt, a little, and it felt incredibly good. I
came two or three times, and Gerry was humping up at me, too. His
motions slid his trim, hard ass farther and farther down the reclining
chair till abruptly, I had to sit up, because his feet were flat on the
floor and his knees were bent.
The problem, however, was that by then, I was cumming so much that
I really didn't have the strength to support myself.
That problem was trivial. For there, standing in front of me with
proudly resurrected dick, was Gary -- waiting for his blowjob. He didn't
have to wait long. His cock was gorgeous there in the dim illumination
of Lane's Drugs's night lights in the Great Eastern shopping center.
Gorgeous. Well, it seemed gorgeous then, just challenging me to suck it,
demanding that I take it into my mouth. I gulped it halfway in with one
stroke. His hands went to the sides of my head and he guided my mouth
back and forth as he fucked his cock in and out of my mouth.
Gerry, meantime, was bucking furiously and I was riding him faster
and more energetically. His dick popped loose a couple of times, sliding
up my belly and rubbing my clit in the process. All but once, it quickly
sank into me again.
The once was notable. That time, it lodged between my buttocks --
which were clenched pretty tight from my orgasms -- and snagged on my
butthole.
"No! Don't!"
His hands on my hips, though, pushed me down. His dick was triply
slippery -- from my juices, his brother's load and his own seepage. The
glans stretched me wildly and then was inside and I was shocked: It
didn't really hurt. I sank down slowly, slowly, while he gasped about
how tight and hot it was. The temperature, I couldn't verify; the
tightness I was sure of, because it felt to me like I was sitting on a
ball bat.
Then I felt his pubic hair against my ass, and I knew I had the
full length of him sheathed in my rectum. I felt like was taking the
world's biggest shit. It felt strange and it felt wonderful and it
scared me. Then he twitched inside me and I moaned. His hands stayed on
my hips as I splayed my legs carefully outside his and draped them down
while I settled back and reclined upon the nineteen-year-old sodomizing
me. His hands slid up to my tits and he began playing with my breasts --
especially my nipples. I moaned again and then shuddered.
My pussy was empty and my ass burned slightly from the stretching,
but I had cum. A little one, to be sure, but an orgasm no less. I slid
one hand down to grip the edge of the reclining seat for stability and
the other down to play with my clit and pussy.
This all had left Gary standing there with my saliva cooling on his
rampant dick. He wasted little time, though. Gary bent at the knees,
found his alignment, and before I could cover my cunt he drove his prick
into me.
All three of us groaned at that. Each of them moaned about feeling
the other pressed against him in the adjoining channel; I moaned
incoherently.
[Yes! It does turn me on to remember it! So they're hard? So what?]
I'd been sandwiched before, and I'd been younger at the time, but
I'd never been filled like this before. This was sheer, hedonistic,
sensual pleasure. I gave myself over to it. I would have wrapped one or
both legs around Gary's waist to keep him close, but I had no strength
anywhere but where they filled me. Gary did most of the work; in his
position, Gerry could do little but occasionally buck up to keep his
cock lock in my ass. But Gary was energetic as hell.
Gary rocked me, again and again, with short thrusts that made up in
urgency what they lacked in length. I was sure they were going to
rupture me with their hard, nineteen-year-old pricks, and I didn't care.
I was cumming and cumming, and not sure if it was starting in my cunt,
my ass or my clit or my nipples. I couldn't stop cumming. I didn't want
to stop cumming.
But then both cocks were swelling in me and both were groaning
rather loudly and then I felt both of them twitch as they ground
themselves in me and poured all their juices and excitement and
horniness into me.
My horny, amoral body drank it all up and clutched for more --
milked for more.
Terry still snored in the back.
We disengaged, moving as quickly as possible to prevent soiling
their precious Microbus with our drippings...though I thought of it more
as anointing the van with our juices. Whatever. And then it got ugly.
I'd just finished pulling my clothing together when Gerry reached
past me and slid back the side door. "Out."
"What?"
"Get out."
"Yeah," Gary added, poetically.
"But aren't you going to give me a ride home?"
"Doesn't look like it."
"No," Gary said, literately.
"But -- "
"You think we'll give a slut a ride?" Gerry demanded.
I started to get mad. "What did you call me?"
"A slut," Gerry said.
"Yeah," Gary added. "Fuck both a guy's brothers while he's passed
out at her feet."
"We gotta watch out for our kid brother."
"I didn't see either of you protesting," I said, dancing down out
of the Microbus to the dirty asphalt. I reached in an snatched my tote
bad with my Mom-approved clothes in it. "Let me ask you something, if
you've got the guts to answer."
Gerry spit theatrically on the asphalt. "Yeah?"
"If a slut is a woman who'd fuck a guy's brothers while he's passed
out at her feet, what would you call his brothers -- men of honor?"
I slammed the door shut myself. They laid about two thousand miles
worth of rubber -- intending to impress me, I suppose -- as they popped
the clutch and left. One of them yelled back in the night, "You're
nothin' but a hoo-er!"
"Whore," I said aloud to myself in the emptiness of the shopping
center parking lot. "The word is `whore.'" And I wondered if maybe he
wasn't right. I done them to get even with Terry for betraying my trust
and lying about his solemn vow. What was a whore but a woman who fucks
for personal gain. On the other hand, I knew of a few -- more than a few
-- women who'd chosen to fuck only one man, the best breadwinner they
could get, for a piece of gold...in the form of a wedding band and
promise of security.
At the time, I found it all too confusing to deal with; I had to
get home and home was a hell of a distance yet. I started walking.
I was beginning to think I was snakebitten. The three most
important men I'd known had all ended up hurting or rejecting me, and
usually with good cause. My phantom step-brother had rejected me in
favor of an underdeveloped twelve-year-old and my (formerly) best
friend. I had caused Ty grief and he'd had to reject me. And now, Terry.
I checked my change purse and when I got to the Esso station, I
called a car service and yes, I had enough to get from there to my the
corner of the block where my family lived. The service car showed up --
a battered '62 Chevy wagon -- and the driver looked me up and down.
"You?" He was a middle-aged African-American. I nodded. "You okay?"
I nodded again. He shrugged. "Okay, let's get you home, child." Then he
shook his head. "Well-growed child."
When I let myself in the house and got to my room, my baby sister
was waiting for me in my bed. "You okay?" After I reassured her, she
told me Mom had waited for me till almost one -- it was a little after
three -- and was really pissed. She suspected it was at least halfway
because Dad was really pissed. He'd gotten a letter from my phantom
step-brother, who'd just graduated from high school. Dan wasn't coming
to visit this summer. He had a good summer job that he had to start
right away. He was sorry, but he had to have the money, because he
started college in the autumn and the two scholarships combined wouldn't
cover the costs. Dad had really been looking forward to the visit. And,
though I hadn't known it till that moment, so had I.
But in a way, it was just as well. I had no distractions that
summer, nothing to take my mind off my own interests, and I learned a
lot about myself. When anyone asked me about Terry, I told them it was a
rumor. I told a few that he and I had enjoyed a one-night stand and a
bad date and That Was That. If anyone asked about the other rumor --
about me doing both his older brothers at once -- I got all hot under
the collar and pissed and bitchy, and if they persisted, I told them I
could sure have my step-brother dispel their illusions. Enough had
leaked out about that incident on the front porch that nobody wanted Dan
coming around and asking them anything. No way.
But the truth was that I suspected I was poison to any kind of
serious relationship.
[I know, but, hey -- I was thirteen! Give me a break!]
And I suspected that I was always going to be Doormat side of the
male view of the world: All women are either Goddesses or Doormats.
By the end of that summer, I had withdrawn almost completely into
myself. I'd had plenty of practice at that, intensive practice after my
first time --
[Okay; I promise -- but later, okay?]
When school started, a few newcomers made attempts to be friendly
with me, but I was essentially asexual. I became a creature of the mind,
of intellect, reveling in the literature I read, the poems I
encountered, even betraying a talent for the rigorous disciplines --
which I always regarded as a game -- of Geometry. I was blessed with
three teachers who loved the idea of opening a mind to the possibilities
inherent in a particular curriculum: Geometry, English and History. I
actually won honors for my mind.
But as the spring of my sophomore year crawled toward summer,
things were happening. I suddenly realized that I had gone more than
five months without being touched -- aside from playing Yellow Pages
with my sister, more for her relief than my or hips. Now I must say here and
now that I am not
into prepubescent girls as a rule, but there was something abouwn -- and I was
winning
recognition for what I could do with my brain, rather than the shape of
my body.
And I realized I had suddenly begun developing, with a vengeance,
in a way that made all previous spurts seem picayune by comparison.
But that early summer, in '69, a couple of things came together.
One of them was discovering that my phantom step-brother could screw up.
I had grown. Make that
Grown, with a capital G. I was surprised -- I, who had always tracked
and recorded my measurements to the eighth of an inch -- to find that I
needed a 34 d-cup bra, that my hips were finally flaring in balance
(relatively) to 27 inches and my waist had ballooned to a whopping 20
inches. Tubb-o, I thought! But I was also all the way up to four-foot-
ten-inches, and looked more like a petite young woman than a little kid
with outrageous tits. Yes, that was a summer of major changes.
And that was the summer I was scouted by a men's magazine.
-- End of 12 --
[end]
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