("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text


















--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  All rights reserved. Thank you for your 
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Tits Monaghan
by Old Bill (address withheld)

***

Our hero helps a lovely youngster with a peculiarly 
deep problem. (mf-teens, youths, rom)

***

Tits Monaghan was a natural wonder, almost an oddity 
because her breasts were so full, firm, shapely and 
sensitive when she was so young, so innocent and so 
immature. They were not a big, soft mounds like poor 
Anna Nicole's nor like Pamela Anderson's mature set of 
wonderfully supported jugs, but were a youthful pair of 
perfectly shaped and sculptured melons topped by lovely 
nipples and areoles that were the size of some young 
girls breasts, rising from her lean chest and turning 
upward and slightly outward, touching each other but 
barely jiggling when she walked and bobbling 
wonderfully when she ran. 

Tits never wore a bra, and as far as anyone knew did 
not own or need one although the towns' matrons were 
sure she would someday. No one knew what size she was. 
More than a handful was the usual measure, usually done 
with gestures and smiles.

Until she was twelve, Tits was known as Marcie, a fair-
haired tomboy with long legs and an impish smile under 
her pug nose and crown of golden curls, good hitter but 
a weak arm. But then, almost suddenly, around 
Thanksgiving as most later recalled, there they were, 
conical at first, like ice cream cones, but soon 
wonderfully filled out, well rounded, bell shaped, up-
turned, and when her brother came home from college 
that winter, he found that his kid sister had developed 
the best set of knockers in town, in the county, 
perhaps in the state. 

By the time he went back to school eight days later he 
had fucked her thirty-seven times in every way the two 
of them could think of or discover on the Internet 
other than tit fucks, which never crossed his mind 
despite her incredible cleavage. Joseph lost ten pounds 
and slept through the first day of classes that second 
semester, his prick so sore it hurt to pee. Tits became 
addicted to sex, a burning need within her, a need to 
copulate, and her breasts so sensitive she could 
produce an orgasm by lifting a nipple to her own lips 
which she did only when truly desperate.

Her brother went through three dozen condoms and 
ejaculated happily every time he bonked his little 
sister, but she never climaxed except for the times he 
sucked and nibbled on her breasts, then she came like a 
tornado, squealing like crazy and beating on him with 
her fists. Her horny brother never noticed this since 
he was usually fucking her when he sucked her gorgeous 
mams. 

For Tits, sex meant getting her big jugs licked and 
sucked and mauled no matter what the rest of her 
luscious body was doing or was having done to it. She 
loved having her clit sucked and certainly encouraged 
that practice, but her tits seemed even more sensitive, 
and her randy brother gave her what she wanted because 
she gave him her body, her pussy, her ass and her 
throat. Joseph found that he could spend all the time 
between erections licking, sucking, nibbling and 
pulling on his lush little sister's wonderful jugs and 
thus keeping her aroused and submissive, eager to do 
whatever he asked.

Tits returned to her seventh grade classes a much more 
knowledgeable young woman than most of the girls in her 
up-scale middle school. Of course there were a few 
sluts, girls who had gained an unsavory reputation for 
giving out blowjobs like they were Tootsiepops and one 
known as Trailertrash, or just Trash, who went home to 
her empty apartment with high school boys or community 
college men, a different one almost every day, having 
fun and making a decent profit, so it was widely 
believed. There were also, if anyone could have quietly 
inquired, a couple of girls whose father's were 
enjoying their nubile if immature bodies and two or 
three others who had girlfriends on the sly and played 
69 regularly with their talented tongues, ignoring boys 
completely.

Tits got some new clothes, sloppy shirts and bulky 
sweaters that did their best to conceal her amazing 
assets, but the boys flocked to her like honey bees and 
elbowed each other to sit with her at lunch time and 
bump into her in the hall or at her locker, which 
became so popular that her home room teacher moved it 
to a distant corner location, a place where he could 
watch her stretch and bend. She was not allowed to date 
and until her brother came home that spring, she had 
found pleasure only with herself. 

She learned that rubbing a rough washcloth on her jugs 
felt good, that she could excite herself with water 
painting brushes and that, with some effort, she could 
lick her nipples and even nip at them when she lifted 
her generous mounds to her mouth. She even tried using 
clothespins on them, but that hurt too much.

Being only twelve, Tits was unaware of the effect she 
had on full-grown men although she was, of course, 
conscious of the icky boys slobbering all over her. Mr. 
Hughes, her young math teacher, was the first to get up 
his nerve along with his cock, and invite Tits to stop 
by after school for some help with her algebraic 
equations. 

When he locked the door to his classroom and taped a 
piece of paper over the window, Tits knew she was in 
for some sort of an unusual experience. Her eager 
brother had never tit-fucked her, but Mr. Hughes 
stripped off her new sweater and undershirt and then 
laid his angry cock between her shapely boobs with a 
smile on his face as she perched on the edge of his 
desk. He grasped her firm melons, pushed them together, 
dripped spittle on his cockhead and thumbed her hard 
nipples as he slid his thick rod up and down her smooth 
cleavage until he spurted in her mouth, and she 
climaxed in her panties, from his thumb actions and her 
jutting nips rubbing at each other several times.

Mr. Hughes fell back in his chair, gasping for air, 
while Tits mopped her legs with tissues from his desk 
drawer and then walked home, bookbag on one shoulder, 
nipples still sore and tender from twenty minutes of 
hard abuse, somewhat puzzled. She had found that if she 
wore her backpack in the normal way, she caused traffic 
accidents and drew unwanted howls and whistles from 
passing truckers. In her room, she stripped and looked 
in her mirror. 

Her nipples were jutting out like fingertips, and she 
lifted her breasts to her mouth and soothed them with 
her tongue, producing two more shuddering climaxes as 
she did so, orgasms that put her on her knees, gasping 
for air, her pussy liquefied, her labia moving like a 
fish's mouth, her forehead on the floor, toes curled in 
ecstasy.

Mr. Phillips, the popular music teacher, was the next 
to give in to temptation, and Tits was a walking 
temptation, truly a wet dream on wheels, with a 
jiggling rack like no other. Mr. Phillips bent her over 
his paper-strewn desk, ripped off her tiny panties and 
drove his puny cock into her tight-lipped slit while he 
mauled her big boobs with both hands.

He came almost at once, sobbing and shaking and then 
fell to his knees behind the nubile youngster, begging 
her forgiveness. Tits turned, having barely noticed his 
coital efforts and unsatisfied by his brief tit 
mauling, knelt before him, kissed him and then pulled 
his face down to her bared breast and let him suck 
until she climaxed, gritting her teeth and raking her 
fingers through the man's sparse hair while he gnawed 
at her nipples, eyes closed, heart hammering.

The school's male guidance counselor, Mr. McGonigal, 
held out as long as he could, beating off almost daily 
in the faculty lounge and then scheduled Tits for a 
high school interview in May. He invited her to sit on 
his lap after he peeled off her clinging polo shirt and 
his cock leapt to full attention. Then he sucked and 
licked and chewed both her jutting nipples until the 
girl begged him to stop, having soaked his trousers 
with her juices. She went to her knees, fished out his 
rigid rod and swallowed his single ejaculation with 
ease, feeling that she owed him at least that, another 
talent from her brother's instruction.

I was sixteen when I met her that summer, and she had 
just turned thirteen and was back to serving her 
brother, who despite her generosity, was chasing a 
couple of girls much more his age. I learned all the 
stuff above from stories she told me that summer as we 
made love, over and over, much against my will, of 
course, since, as a rule, I do not bonk kids. There are 
laws, you know. She came and sat beside me on the tiled 
edge of the community swimming pool one warm day. She 
smiled up at me, put her hand on my hairy thigh, and 
said, "Hi, I'm Marcie Monaghan." 

Her rack was truly unbelievable, especially in an 
outgrown string bikini that bared 90% of her wondrous 
globes as they jutted out before her, cantilevered as 
it were, with tiny triangles of cloth baring much of 
her puffy areoles. It was like putting a bandaid on a 
bowling ball, twenty pounds of clay into a five-pound 
bag. Her jugs seemed alive, constantly squirming to be 
free.

I put my hand on her smooth and beautifully tanned 
thigh, tried not to look at the outstanding pair of 
outstanding beauties an inch away from my upper arm, 
and said, "Hi, my name's Billy." Like every male in 
town, I knew who she was.

She nodded and smiled. "I know. A lady who's a friend 
of my mother, I heard about you from her." She stroked 
my leg.

"Really. Who's that?" I asked, feeling my eager cock 
stir. Close up, her breasts were even more wondrous 
with their light tracery of blue veins and her 
oversized nipples were even more enticing, jutting up 
and outward as they did, the puffy nipple mounds bigger 
than a silver dollar, stretching the thin cloth 
covering them, the outer edges of the pink circles 
evident, shaped like the nipples on a baby bottle, the 
tits like finger tips, just begging to be sucked. If 
you have ever seen any of Dementia's girls, you know 
what I mean, nipples meant for chewing.

She wrinkled her forehead. "Barbie. I didn't get her 
last name. She's big blonde." She smiled at me and 
thrust back her shoulders. "Big as I am up here, maybe 
even bigger." Her jutting nips were spectacular; they 
made my mouth water as they stretched her tiny suit. 
They quivered. So did I.

I knew the woman. I had cut her lawn and done chores 
for her and humped her a number of times. Barbie was a 
very enthusiastic fucker, a great and generous lay who 
was in the process of wearing out her fourth husband at 
the age of twenty-five or so. Serving her was hard but 
very satisfying as well as profitable work.

Tits exhaled and wiggled closer, rubbing her left jug 
against my right arm. "Barbie said you were big and 
strong; I mean that your thing is big and strong." Her 
exploring fingers edged closer to it as it filled my 
jock strap. My balls were in turmoil. My brain was 
about to quit and hand my body over to older centers of 
fleshy action.

"Thing?" I said, and she put her hand down on it. It 
was maybe halfway riled. It surged. She patted.

"This thing. You know what I mean."

I moved her hand away. "And?" I asked, smiling at her 
and glancing down at the deep valley between her 
youthful mounds, her upright volcanoes. That's was what 
they looked like, I decided, volcanoes, well-shaped 
young mountains, Fuji type. Like Mount St. Helens 
before it exploded. I refused to thing of that word, 
exploded, but my balls didn't.

"And, well, I have this problem. We can't talk about it 
here. You have a car don't you?"

I nodded. "But I just got here."

"OK," she said with a sigh. "When you get ready to go, 
come find me."

"That won't be hard," I said.

She laughed, shaking those gorgeous boobs, and pulled 
her swimsuit back up over her hard nipples.

So an hour or so later she found her little Hawaiian 
shirt and flip-flops and followed me out to the Fiero, 
many parts jiggling wonderfully. She sat, turned 
sideway and pouted. "Can I trust you?"

"A lot of women do," I said. "I'm surprised Barbie 
talked about me."

"She's Mom's best friend."

'Still. I'd never talk about her."

"I've got this problem. I don't enjoy sex the normal 
way, you know, fucking, getting poked."

"That's a shame," I said.

She nodded. "I like getting my big knockers sucked, and 
boys have gotten me off with their tongues a few times, 
down there, you know, on my clit, gash licking."

"That's good. A lot of women seem to like that."

"But most won't do it, you know, go down on me. They 
just want to stick their things in me and grunt and 
spurt and maul my jugs." She sniffed. "It's no fun."

"And you don't like that?"

"Not really. So I guess there's something wrong with 
me."

"Tits," I said, letting the nickname slip out, "I am 
sure there is nothing wrong with you. How old are you 
anyhow?"

She hesitated. "Sixteen," she said, looking away.

"How old?"

She sniffed. "Almost."

I laughed.

"All right. I'm thirteen, just thirteen, durn it. So 
there, and I've been doing it for about six months, 
since Christmas, but, well, but I'm not hooked up now. 
You know, seeing anybody regular like." She told me 
later that she was sleeping with her brother off and on 
that summer, more on than off.

I smiled.

"It's not funny. I've done it a lot; I don't know how 
many times, maybe twenty or thirty. But I've never 
come. And I'm on the pill."

I shook my head.

"So this lady, Barbie, she said you were the best, the 
biggest and the best."

"I can't make love to you, Tits. I can't even kiss you 
much less fuck you."

"Why not? Am I too ugly or something?"

"No, sweetie, you're thirteen."

She sighed and her luscious breasts bobbled making my 
cock jerk. "I was afraid of that." She snorted and 
looked determined, folding her arms under her glorious 
pair. "Couldn't you just put it in me so we could find 
out. I mean, well, now this is a secret, my brother's 
thing is only about this big." She held her thumb and 
forefinger wide apart, maybe three or four inches. 
"It's about the size of your thumb." Then she grabbed 
my hand and gripped my middle finger. "And I don't 
think anybody's put more than this in me."

"Have boys fingered you?" I asked, trying to get my 
eager horn to relax.

She nodded. "Some, a few." She sniffed. "It just felt, 
I don't know, odd, annoying."

"Well," I said, getting car started and trying to 
ignore the turmoil between my thighs, "everybody's 
different." My blood supply was surely headed south.

I drove to a shady part of the park, and we walked down 
the hill toward the creek, hand in hand. As usual, I 
can resist almost anything except temptation. I spread 
the blanket I had carried on my shoulder, turned off my 
scruples, and we sat and then we hugged and we kissed 
and we pulled off each other's shirts and fondled each 
other until I was pretty sure she was excited and knew 
I was. I had never handled a better set of knockers 
than Tits' warm beauties and every time I licked a 
nipple, she shook and squealed and then mashed my face 
into her chest.

"Now," I said as she helped me get her shorts and 
underpants off, "let's try a couple of things." She was 
almost hairless between her legs. "Understand, this is 
an experiment on account of you're too young to have 
sex with." I eased a finger up into her, surprised she 
was so wet and slick as well as very tight. I added a 
second finger with some effort, hooked them forward and 
rubbed gently inside her vagina in an area where many 
women seemed to have what was usually called a G-spot, 
kind of behind her clit. 

"How's that feel?" I asked her as she lay back, hands 
under her curly head, breasts still high despite being 
on her back, no sag at all, nipples erect and as big as 
the tip of her little finger, hemispheres firm, 
wonderfully ridiculous. She had the kind of wonderful 
tits Alberto Vargas painted for Playboy.

"Odd, peculiar, irritating." She smiled.

I fumbled around inside her and then gave up, pried off 
my shoes, pulled down my shorts and boxers and watched 
my eager horn jump out and up.

"Oh god," Tits said, getting up on her elbows and 
looking at my rising horn, mouth and eyes wide open. "I 
thought she was kidding. Holy gee!"

"Now," I said as calmly as I could, suppressing a proud 
smile. "We are not making love or fucking or anything 
like that. We are experimenting. Understand? I don't 
fuck thirteen-year-olds. This has nothing to do with 
love. Or even lust for that matter. It's scientific. 
Right?"

She nodded, lay back down, hands at her sides, knotted 
into fists. She licked her lips. "I don't think you can 
get that thing in me."

"We'll see," I told her. "Lift your knees and spread 
your legs." I examined her folds, rubbed her clit 
gently and decided she might be right. "OK, Tits, roll 
over and get up on your hands and knees."

"My brother did me that way a few times, bunny he 
called it," she said as she got into position, and I 
came up behind her on my knees, my big ram straight out 
before me, just a bit above horizontal and slightly 
curved, dripping, ready, in fact much more than ready. 
"Did I tell you I was on the pill?"

"Here we go," I said, setting the head of my prick at 
her slick but tiny opening, remembering how she had 
squeezed on my curious fingers. My shaft was so thick 
it filled my hand. But it was also hard enough to poke 
a hole in a sheet of wallboard. I put my other hand on 
the small of her back and she ducked her head.

"Ah," she gasped when the big head popped into her and 
her puffy lips closed behind it. "You did it." Her 
young vagina was grasping firmly, quivering.

I held her hips and pushed hard, sliding inward, 
butting her open, plowing, bulldozing, throbbing. "You 
OK?" I asked, maybe halfway in, penetrating steadily 
but slowly. Her pussy was in constant motion, rippling 
and convulsing, squeezing firmly. Absolutely, 
positively wonderful.

She nodded and wiggled her ass. "You sure are big."

I backed off a bit and pushed in and up again and then 
to the side, holding her pelvis, pulling her to me, 
sure I was stretching her, feeling around, exploring. I 
rotated my hips a bit, trying to screw it in. I tried 
to remember what I had read about young girls' vaginas, 
but couldn't exactly recall their size or length. I 
thought they were about inch in diameter and maybe 
three or four inches deep. I was already five inches 
into her and twice the normal diameter. I pushed harder 
and she whimpered, stretched obviously and probably 
painfully. I gritted my teeth, ignoring her pain.

"Tell me when you want to stop," I said, leaning over 
her and reaching up to grasp her big jugs and maul them 
a bit while I moved it in and out an inch or so, 
humping gently and getting somewhat deeper with each 
pleasurable insertion. She was hot and wet, undulating 
within. I was maybe a half-foot deep and really 
enjoying the experiment, my balls swinging to and fro, 
not yet tensed at the roots of my thick rod.

She nodded. "More," she sobbed, shivering as I paused 
and tried to relax.

I got back in position, backed off, took a deep breath 
and drove in, all the way in, right to the balls, which 
by then had drawn up tightly at the base of my pole.

She squealed and her head went down until her forehead 
touched the ground so I backed up some and felt my cock 
jump and flex deep within her.

She gasped and climaxed, squeezing hard on my thick 
shaft as ripples of pleasure coursed through her. "You 
did it," she gasped, shuddering and ripping up handfuls 
of grass and weeds. "You did it." She sighed, bucking 
and heaving. "I came; I came!"

I looked down and saw that I had recoiled and now had 
perhaps seven inches in her and two outside and 
waiting, slick with our juices. I thrust again, held it 
deep and waited for it to jerk, feeling her squirming 
on my balls. It jumped and she came again, gasping for 
breath and bucking on my thick ram. I thrust and held 
it. It felt great, massaged and stretched. She climaxed 
again, as multi-orgasmic as any female I've ever known. 
Three orgasms in less than two minutes.

"Good," I said, sliding the whole thing back out of 
her, enjoying the vibrations and pulses of her pussy. 
When it popped free, it made a wet and sucking sound, 
and we both chuckled as I fell on my back and she 
pounced on me and kissed me fiercely, my face, neck and 
chest.

I patted her bare butt. "Now you know. There's nothing 
wrong with you."

She kissed me some more, and she stroked my soggy ram 
as it lay resting on my heaving belly, still blood 
filled. "Let's check to make sure," she whispered as 
she ground her magnificent pair into my chest and 
nudged my scrotum with her knee. Some strenuous licking 
and sucking got me fully hard and eagerly erect, and 
the busty girl swung a leg across my loins and screwed 
herself down my pike and then smiled at me. 

"I feel it coming, rolling through me, I'm..!" and she 
cried out and put her hands by my ears and leaned 
forward. I couldn't resist and sucked first one big dug 
and then the other giving the luscious girl three more 
orgasms in a row, maybe even four but who's counting. 
She collapsed atop me, sobbing and quivering, and 
eventually we got dressed and back to the car. I was 
well satisfied although I had not ejaculated.

We drove to her home in relative silence and when we 
got there she turned in her seat. "Now what?"

"Now, I guess you have to take a measuring tape with 
you." I smiled.

"Right, and I think we need to do some more 
experiments."

We did. A lot of them.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 60