His daddy had custody for a month in the summer. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do about his dirty little secret, but every night when I was trying to fall asleep, I couldn’t stop thinking about having him show me his dick, and wondering if I could get him to lick on my cooter. I played the rubbing game under the covers a lot while I thought about that.

The first afternoon at our house, Manny and I were in the den playing Trouble. He snapped the dice bubble and the dice rattled around. He moved his green cone-shaped man along the route on the game board. I was winning and he was getting annoyed. He kept sighing and slammed his pieces around. I had to reposition my pieces every time he knocked them over.

"Stop it.!" I finally said to him under my breath. "I know something bad that you did, and if you don’t knock it off, I’m gonna tell."

He froze. "What’re you talking about?"

I had a mysterious little look on my face as I popped the dice bubble and moved my red cone-shaped man into "home."

"You’re cheating!" he insisted again.

"No, I’m not." I said quietly. "I know what you said to Shirley. And I know that you know what I’m talking about."

He forced the bubble down until it popped, and he moved his pieces.

I guess he wasn’t going to talk about it.

"I know you asked if you could lick her cooter."

He glared at me and pounded the game board. The pieces went flying. He jumped up and ran into the bathroom. He slammed the door.

It had to be true!

I picked up the game pieces and folded the board to put it in the box. I put the box up on the shelf next to the TV.

I went over to the bathroom. I quietly knocked on the door. "Manny, let me in," I said. "I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in." I tried to laugh.

He stayed in the bathroom with the door locked.

"If you let me in, I won’t tell your Mama."

The handle turned and the door swung open.

"So you did say it." I said. He was sitting on the floor in the corner with his hands covering his face. "I almost told Shirley she was wrong. That she had to be lying, that you would never say that, but I wanted to talk to you first."

He didn’t say anything.

"Manny, I wanna talk to you," I said, "but not in here. Don’t stay in here too long, or your daddy’s gonna think something’s up." I turned on my heel and walked out of the bathroom. "I’ll be up in the tree."

I climbed up the apple tree to my favorite reading spot. At the beginning of summer, Manny’s daddy wedged a triangle of plywood up in the tree so I could sit. I found a little nook where I stuck my paperback. I sat there in my hideout and tried to read. Truth was, I couldn’t focus on the page. Manny asked to lick Shirley’s cooter. I had an image in my head of Manny’s face, smeared with the juices of Shirley’s tight hole, and the fluttery ridges of her pussy lips. I thought of Shirley with her head back and her eyes closed as she bucked her hips up and down, making his tongue rub against her harder. Then faster. I wondered if he even knew that he could slide his finger up inside that hole. I wondered if he thought about sticking his dick inside that hole.

My own cooter started feeling funny. I wanted to throw my legs open and look down there and poke my own finger inside. I clamped my legs together. What was I thinking? I imagined Manny’s hair falling in his eyes as he sucked on my bump. I got off my plywood perch and straddled the branch of the apple tree. I liked the ridges of the branch clamped between my legs. I wanted to rock my hips back and forth like Shirley seemed to know how to do and rub against the hardness of the bark. I sat still, afraid to follow my thoughts into these wild places.

"What’d you want to talk about?"

I looked down and Manny was standing at the base of the tree.

"Come on up!" I tossed the rope ladder over the edge so he could climb up.

I moved over on the platform. There was room for both of us. Barely. I sat as close to the branch as I could. My heart was racing. Would I have the guts to say what I wanted to say?

He clamored up and sat down beside me. He’d never come up in the tree before. I’d never invited him. He swung his legs over the edge of the platform.

"This is cool." He looked out and could see into three other backyards besides ours. Sometimes the girl in the third yard came out and suntanned with her top off. I think she was a senior. I wondered what Manny would think if he could watch that.

I sat beside him. I was too chicken. "Well. I don’t really know what I want to talk to you about. I can’t believe you wanted to do that."

"It was a crazy thing to say. I didn’t think she would ever do it."

"Oh."

He stood up and sprung to grab a higher branch. He tried to climb higher in the tree. The branch started bending under his weight. There was a slight cracking sound.

"Watch out!" I said, "You can’t really go up any higher. Well not much."

He landed on the plywood beside me. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well..." I laid awake in the dark of night and imagined this moment. Now I couldn’t imagine telling him my crazy thoughts. I didn’t have the nerve.

"I...I...I can’t really get the thought of it out of my head." I finally told him. "Not since I heard about it. You know what I mean?"

He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"I kinda lay in bed at night, and...I just keep thinking about it." I stared at the page of my book, but I wasn’t seeing a word on the page. I couldn’t remember what the story was even about.

"So what’s that s’posed to mean?" he said. "What’s that have to do with me?"

"Well Manny, I was kinda thinking that we could have a deal. I mean, if you’re thinking about things like that, and I’m thinking about things like that...."

He turned to face me for the first time and I didn’t know how to read the look on his face. He stepped off the platform to the first rung of the ladder. He jumped down to the ground and ran off.

I didn’t know what to think. That wasn’t how I wanted our little talk to go. Was he going to tell his dad? I felt kind of cold, wondering what I would do if my mother found out what I said to him. I thought about what it would be like to spend the rest of the summer grounded in my room.

Oh, but he didn’t have any room to tattle. What I said to him wasn’t even close to being as dirty as what he said to Shirley. Or was it?

I sat in the tree and pretended to read my book. I was glad no one had X-ray eyes and could see the dirty thoughts that I was having. I covered my face with my hands and just lay back against the branch. What was going on with me?

 

Mama stepped out the back door at dinnertime and hollered for me to come into the house. I sat at the table and stared at my plate. Manny sat across from me. We didn’t look at each other. I passed my plate to Mama who spooned some mashed potatoes and gravy on it. It was all I could do pretend to eat. I mixed peas in the mashed potatoes and hoped no one would notice.

Manny didn’t say much either.

Mama and Manny’s dad didn’t notice. I guess they were mad at each other. Mama said that was never a bad thing. She said that she and Manny’s dad were still getting used to each other, and they were trying to work out "parameters." I didn’t know what that meant, but from what I could tell, it happened after Mama got mad at something Manny’s daddy said.

After dinner, I went to my room and no one bothered me.

I wondered if Manny and I were trying to work out "parameters."

It was three days before Manny and I found ourselves alone together. He still didn’t want to talk to me and I was trying to act like I didn’t notice. Pretend it didn’t happen and it will all go away.

Then we were sitting together in the back of the PT Cruiser and Mama got out of the car to mail something in the post office. She told us to wait in the car.

"So what did you want to do?" He spoke so quietly I wasn’t sure I’d heard him.

I looked at him. His head was down and I fought the urge to tell him that he needed to cut his hair.

I wanna see your dick!

"I don’t know," I admitted.

Chicken! What a chicken!

Then he spoke. "Let’s go up in the tree and play truth or dare. I think they’re going to a movie tonight."

One of the new things was that we were both thirteen and could be trusted to stay home alone.

I started picking at a spot on my jeans where the fabric was fraying. Pretty soon there was a tiny, little hole. For the first time in three days, I broke into a smile.

 

That evening, Manny swung up into the tree beside me. He was wearing purple shorts and a yellow Lakers’ jersey. I had been thinking of questions and things to dare him with for the whole afternoon. He just got done shooting hoop and his hair was sticking to the side of his face. Now that he was up here in my tree, I felt chicken again. What was I going to do?

"Shirley’s here," he said. "I guess your mom invited her to spend the night. So it’s not going to work out."

I nodded.

Then suddenly, he reached out and grabbed me and kissed my face. Well it was kind of a kiss. It was wet, and he missed my mouth. A hard peck on the side of my face.

Then he scrambled down off the ladder and disappeared.

I wiped the slobber off my face and looked at the glisten on my hand until it disappeared.

Then I ran into the house to find my friend.

 

After our parents left for the movie, Shirley and I were in the den watching MaryKate and Ashley. Manny came into the room.

"I heard you were talking about me." Manny looked Shirley straight in the eye.

Shirley pulled a blanket over her lap and started giggling.

I stared at the TV.

Manny came over and perched on the edge of the couch. Right next to me. We sat there for awhile. Nobody said a word. I had no idea the movie was over until the credits started rolling.

"Let’s go to Jennie’s room." Shirley said. "We can play Trouble."

"I’ll get you into trouble..." Manny teased.

Shirley giggled and ran down the hall ahead of him. I went into the kitchen to make a bag of popcorn. I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. What if Manny wanted to mess around with Shirley and they made me hang out in my room? The microwave pinged. I took the steaming bag down the hall to my room.

"So...what you wanna do?" Manny asked.

"Play Trouble?" Shirley suggested.

Manny grabbed at her and pulled her to him on the bed.

"Save me, Jennie!" she yelped in a goofy voice.

I tumbled on the bed beside them. What if Manny really liked Shirley and didn’t want anything to do with me? Then I remembered the weird little kiss up in the apple tree.

Shirley was all giddy. She started to sing a nursery school song. "There’s three in the bed and the little one said, ‘I’m crowded. Roll over!’" and she screamed and rolled off the bed. Manny laughed and rolled off the bed, almost falling on top of her. I rolled and landed in the middle of a pile of their arms and legs. Shirley hugged me.

I kissed her on the lips.

She kissed me back. Then suddenly it was weird. She was kissing me too close, too intimately. It was like watching a kiss in the movies. Or like she was trying to make it look like they kissed in the movies..

"Ew! Gross!" Manny shouted and jumped away from us. "Two little lovers sitting in the tree...K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."

I pulled away awkwardly. I felt rumpled. Manny kissed me in the tree. Did that make him my lover? I pushed the hair out of my face.

"Manny wants to play Truth or Dare." I told Shirley.

"Kewl!" Shirley hopped up on the corner of the bed. "Who wants to go first?"

"I’ll go first." Manny said.

"Truth or Dare?" Shirley challenged.

"Truth," he said.

"Chicken..." she taunted.

"Oh I have a question." I piped up. I already knew the answer, but I wanted to ask it anyway.

"Go ahead," Manny said.

"Did you really tell Shirley that you wanted to lick her cooter?"

Shirley shrieked and covered her face with her hands.

Manny looked right at me, more bold than usual. "Yes," he said.

"Now it’s your turn."

We took turns, each of us picking Truth for the first few rounds. The rounds of Truth lasted almost until the popcorn was gone. I had to admit that I had stole Manny’s bike one time when it was missing. I did return it later, but at the time I wouldn’t tell him where it was.

Shirley told us that she thought about kissing her teacher last year in school.

Manny said his most embarrassing moment was when his mother caught him one time naked in the bathroom. He had such a strange look on his face when he said this that I wondered if there was more to the story, but couldn’t imagine what it could be. He must’ve been taking a dump or something.

Shirley was the first to pick Dare, and when she did, Manny smirked.

"I dare you to take off your shirt," he said.

Shirley stood directly in front of him and unbuttoned her white blouse. There was a white girl’s undershirt underneath, and I didn’t think she would take that off, but she pulled it off over her head. She gave him a good look at her little pink rosebud nipples, then she clapped her hands over her chest.

"Once you take something off, you can’t put it back on," Manny said when she started to pick up her shirt.

"That’s not fair," Shirley complained, "you can’t add rules after the game’s started."

"I never played this game before." Manny said. "I didn’t know what rules we needed. But don’t you think that’s a good rule." He winked at me.

"I think it’s fair." I agreed.

When Shirley finally took her hands away, I noticed that Shirley’s boobies were really starting to grow. She’d been thirteen for a couple months. Her nipples made the tips, like Hershey’s kisses, poking away from her chest with white meaty tissue underneath. They looked like capital A’s.

When I picked Dare, Shirley told me I needed to take off my shirt, too. I did it slowly. I didn’t know if I could. Then once my shirt was off, Manny said I had to rub my nipples against Shirley’s.

I looked at him. "You must be outta your mind."

"Go ahead. You have to do it... You picked Dare."

"That’s not fair." I insisted. "Shirley only had to do one thing."

"I think it’s fair." Shirley said, standing in front of me. "Don’t get too rough, though. They’re tender." I leaned forward and pressed my flat little titties against her bumpy chest. She grinded against me, and I felt a funny feeling. Like sparklers again. Down between my legs.

It felt silly to just sit there afterwards with my boobies poking out.

 

Then it was Manny’s turn. He said Dare. Shirley grinned at me. I knew she had some wild idea. I couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

"You need to show us your dick." She said to him.

I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it.

"My dick?" Manny said. "You girls wanna see my dick?"

Then before we could insist, or say otherwise, he pulled a slim, perky penis out over the elastic waistband of his shorts. He mooshed it up above his balls so it pointed right at us like a little cannon. The tip of it had some kind of a mark on it, and all I could think was that somehow it was smiling.

I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing.

Then he whipped it back into his pants and it disappeared.

I blushed and looked down at my lap. It didn’t look big and thick. It didn’t look like it would hurt. It looked funny! That? That was what I’d been worried about?

I don’t think he liked that we were laughing. I guess he thought that when he flashed it out, the two of us were going to stand at attention.

It was more of a nervous laughter. I wasn’t really laughing at it.

Yes I was!

I couldn’t help myself. It looked hysterical. So this was what all the fuss was about!

He was fuming.

"Hey!" Shirley insisted. "That’s not enough! You have to take your pants all the way off." .

"No, you said I had to show it to you. I did."

"He’s right." I told Shirley.

It looked so weird. Like nothing that would occur on a regular body.

I wanted to see it again. But I wasn’t sure I could stand seeing it again.

I looked at Manny. He was pissed.

It was Shirley’s turn, and sure enough, Manny dared her to take off her pants. She stepped out of her shorts and kicked them across the room. She pulled down her panties and twirled them around on her finger while she pranced around in front of us. I started laughing.

Then before she did anything else, she pointed at each of her titties: "Milk, Milk..." then at her cooter, "Lemonade..." Then Shirley spun around and bent over, showing us her round bottom. "Around the corner, Fudge is made!" And she poked her finger right at her little puckered asshole.

I thought I was going to laugh so hard I was going to pee my pants.

I glanced at Manny because he quickly moved his hand to his lap and pinched at his shorts. He was poking at his dick, or moving it around. What was that about?

Then it was my turn. I stopped laughing. I was sure I wasn’t going to be able to take off my pants and show Manny my cooter. If that was the Dare.

"Shit!" Manny said, racing around the bed and dashing out of the room. "I’m outta here!"

"What?" I said, looking at Shirley. "What happened?"

"Yikes!" She was shrieking and diving under the covers. "The garage door just opened. Your parents are home!"

I grabbed her clothes and tossed them in the corner against the wall. "Where’s your pajamas?" I asked, turning off the light and sliding into bed next to her.

"I didn’t bring any. I forgot."

"Shirley, you’re crazy."

"I know. That’s why you like having me around."

 

She stayed naked with me underneath the covers and I could think of nothing else. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep. Not with her naked. Not with her right next to me.

She poked me in the arm. "Jennie."

"What?"

"What did you think of his dick?"

I started to laugh. "It was funny. I didn’t think it would look like that."

"I know." She giggled.

"Truth or dare?" she asked. She took my hand and pressed it against her cooter. I started petting the silky skin.

"Dare." I whispered.

I wanted to play the rubbing game so bad. I hoped that’s what she was going to have me do.

I wanted to lay on top of her and grind my cooter against hers, just the way we’d rubbed our titties. I wanted to feel my way between the fold of skin between her legs and swirl my finger around her little bump.

She was naked in my bed and I wanted to feel her boobies again. I wanted to pet them with my hands and put those Hershey Kisses nipples into my mouth and pretend to suck her like a baby.

I wanted to feel her hole and snake my finger around inside of it.

I wanted to rub her pussy until she thought she was going to pee.

Then she slid her hand inside the elastic of my panties. "I dare you to let me lick your cooter." she whispered.

"Omigod!"

She wanted to put her face under the covers! She wanted to make those slimy, nasty juices inside my crack. She wanted to feel the smear of my pussy against my face. She wanted to poke her dainty finger inside my hole. She wanted to feel the thrust my little bump up against her tongue.

I opened my legs. I couldn’t wait.

Shirley crawled between my legs and started tasting me, rubbing her finger on my cooter, then sticking it in her mouth. Next she put her mouth up close to that little bump and she started licking it. Eventually she peeled the lips apart, and started going at it. "It tastes good , Jennie, really good!"

Oh my goodness. It FELT amazing. I put my head back and I pushed my pelvis forward, and opened my legs a little wider. "Shirl," I said, "Put your finger inside?"

She quickly pushed her finger against my tight little hole. It brushed against all the nerves there, and felt oh so intense. "Wet it, wet it, wet it," I begged.

She licked at the opening of my pussy until it was wet and sloppy.

"Now," I said, "now put it inside."

Shirley poked her finger inside. I was surprised it slid in pretty well. It felt bizarre to have anything inside me there, and I immediately felt magnified. Like that was the only part of my body that I could feel at this moment in time. Shirley wriggled her finger around a little, and I almost sat up. "Oh my god." I said.

"Does that feel good?" Shirley said.

"Yes it feels so good."

"Well there’s that hymen thing there. I can feel it against my finger. Do you want me to break it?"

"Not yet." I said. "Just leave it there. But can you play around the outside of the hole? Just swirl your finger there, and ... and keep rubbing that little bump."

Shirley was so great at following my directions. She varied her pressure, sometimes circling hard, sometimes poking her finger inside, and stroking that piece of skin she called the hymen. Then she would trace it almost without touching me, and I thrust my hips forward, "please, please, just rub on it."

What she was doing, and I don’t know if she had any idea how amazing it felt, was to make me feel a feeling like sparklers inside my pussy. There was almost a buzzing feeling, then when she backed off, barely touched my skin I could feel a mounting expectation and excitement, so when she put her mouth on me again, I was about to go crazy. She put her mouth against my bump, I think she called it a clit, and she started lapping at it. I started squirming. Underneath her chin, she had her right hand flipping from left to right across the opening of my hole. She kept flicking her tiny tongue against my clit, then spreading away from it after a bit to lap big tongue strokes around the folds, even up on my pussy lips where the slight pussy hairs were starting to grow.

I was trying to lie quiet and still, but I felt like yelling, it was such a thrill. My mom’s room was down the hall, on the other side of the bathroom, and I didn’t want her to hear anything. She would come down the hall to find out what we were doing.

Shirley went back to work on my clit. I moved my hands down to hold my pussy lips open so she could suck it directly. I pushed my forefinger under her mouth against my clit. It was swollen. It felt different than it ever had before. And even though there was a lot of wetness, it wasn’t Shirley’s saliva. It was something coming out of me! It was slippery and thick, a lot different than pee. She put her thumb on my clit again and rubbed it hard. It was almost too hard, and I tried pulling back from her hand--well as much as I could, given that I was lying flat on the bed and she was pushing down on my clit, directly on top of me. I started squirming, but she kept rubbing. She closed her hand and used her knuckles to rub, rub, rub across that bump.

Then something happened. That sparkler feeling, that warm and bubbly feeling which was building and building...it suddenly rose up and I felt like I was going to have to pee. "Oh my god. Oh my god! Oh my god" I kept saying over and over.

I didn’t pee. Under Shirley’s hand, I experienced a different kind of release. What she was doing to me was absolutely divine. The building feeling got bigger and bigger until I just felt like full blown fireworks were exploding from inside. I started making a squeaking sound. I couldn’t help it.

"You’re coming, Baby, you’re coming...." Shirley said, still moving her hand, but not so intently. "Just go with it."

My first climax ripped through me. I could feel muscles involuntarily clenching, all around my pussy and it was like electricity was flying up and down my back. I arched my back and clenched my hands into fists. I felt like crying, it was such a great release. "Oh my god," was all I could say. My legs were quivering.

"You like that?" Shirley asked.

"Oh my god, Shirley. I never did that before."

She giggled. "I can tell." She smoothed my hair away from my face and gave me a kiss. I kissed her back, over and over. I loved her so much for showing me this. I couldn’t believe my best friend wasn’t afraid to touch my pussy and show me how to rub it. She kissed me and put her tongue in my mouth.

"Oooh stop it!" I whispered, as loud as I dared. "That’s gross!"

"You think you can do that to me?" Shirley asked me after a little while.

"Okay," I said, "I’ll give it a shot."

And I scrambled between her legs. I couldn’t wait to lick her cooter. I couldn’t wait.

I imagined my naked body standing in a mirror, with one of those little penises hanging between my legs. If that happened, I’d feel like an alien. I started to snicker again.

I couldn’t believe what a lightweight I was. I couldn’t say those words. I didn’t know what to say.

by Fyre

€™d had no idea that shaving would make everything feel so intense. Frankie touched her all around her pubic area, but she wouldn’t invade Shannon’s pussy. Shannon felt like a doll with a pull cord between her legs. Pull the string, watch me writhe, she thought. Frankie was taking her sweet time pulling the string. Shannon concentrated on breathing. The feeling of wanting to cum built up more and more. Then it became overwhelming. Shannon started bucking, wiggling. Frankie held her hands and wouldn’t let go.

Finally, Frankie rolled Shannon on her knees and started slapping her ass. The blood all rushed down, the throbbing started. She rolled her back over and spread her legs. Shannon was sure Frankie was going to start sucking her cunt, but she didn’t. Shannon quivered with anticipation. Then Frankie slapped her pussy. Five, six times. All Shannon wanted was penetration. She moaned, "Please."

Frankie pinned her to the bed again and started to bite her nipples. Shannon arched her back. She came. Frankie said, "Don’t do that. Stop cumming." She bit her nipples, holding them so tight with her teeth, they started to throb. Frankie lapped at the tips of her breasts and flicked them with her finger. Then she jammed her thumb inside Shannon’s cunt. She bit her left nipple between her teeth and held it there. Shannon came. Frankie slapped her pussy. "I said don’t do that." She came again.

Frankie turned up the light to watch. She released her hands. Shannon put her hand down and shut her eyes. She wanted to cum for her, just for her, about six inches from her face. Shannon started to masturbate. She started cumming on the third stroke. She writhed on the bed. Shannon came, cringing, shuddering, in a heap. Frankie watched Shannon come. Watched where she placed her hands, where she fingered herself. Then Frankie licked and rubbed her with her knuckles until she came again and again. She liked the way that Shannon’s face kind of scrunched up when it happened, and she could hear an audible, "ah!" when she did it. Frankie smiled, because she knew she did much the same thing. After Shannon came one more time, Frankie put her head on her tummy to feel the rise and fall of her rhythms.

It took a couple of songs to pass through them from the radio before either of them wanted the other to move. Then Frankie said, "Okay, time to get serious." She began to lick and nip at her breasts, biting them with little half bites, and stopping to suck them persistently. She moved her hand down between Shannon's thighs, and fondled there. She pulled out the vibrator, still warm from her own body, and pushed it inside of Shannon. She thought of it being inside there, and then she started to whisper to her, filling her head with her voice, "Shannon, this was just inside of me, and it was just touching me where it’s now touching you, and it was pulsing against me and I was pulsing against it," and Frankie's voice went on and on. Shannon felt the pulsing vibrations and she thought about having Frankie’s juices inside of her. Shannon started rising against it, then Frankie moved her hand there against her, her fingers reaching inside her vagina. Frankie touched her, pushing the vibrator where she needed to be touched, and swept her up into an uncontrollable climax.

Twenty minutes later, Shannon was cumming some more. Frankie was relentless. Shannon was drenched. Her belly was sore, her pussy was sore. She didn’t care. She was sure she couldn’t come any more. She was certain she was finished forever. Frankie rolled her over. She was lying in a puddle. Shannon didn’t remember ever losing this much control, she’d never made the bed quite this wet. She didn’t know what to say about it. Women don’t compare notes. She didn’t know about other women coming so hard, so frequently, so violently, they lose control and wet all over the bed.

Shannon started talking nonsense. Something about how she was so turned on, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t brush against her pubis without feeling it was all different there. She couldn’t even lay on the flat sheets without being overcome by sensation. She felt like she would go through life for three days straight being turned on, soaking wet. How was she going to go home? How could she face her family? Shannon started sobbing, the emotions washing over her. It was all so confusing. But her body had come so hard; she felt complete relief. Shannon folded up against Frankie’s body, her face all smiling and twisted.

Inside the car, Frankie said, without looking at her friend. "That didn’t take penetration. It wouldn’t have mattered if I prematurely ejaculated. Right?" Frankie continued. "If you want to save your marriage, you’ll have to train Matthew to do that. You get my drift?"

Shannon swallowed. The giddy feeling inside of her dissipated. Yep, she understood.

It didn't take long to get to a nearby town, and it didn't take long to see a motel, but it was sleazy and cheap, so Frankie kept driving. She played the music loud, and they didn't talk. Shannon was now the one who was thinking. She’d never reached an orgasm with anyone but Matthew. And even then, it was rare. It was all about comfort and privacy and personal space. She was going to need to be able to tell Frankie how to do this.

"It's going to take an hour." Shannon said, finally and she leaned forward to turn the radio down, so she would not have to shout.

"That's okay. I have all day."

"I might have to masturbate."

Frankie wrinkled her nose at that word. Women with children in the soccer club didn't talk to each other about this sort of thing. "That's okay," she said, "then I'll watch."

Shannon was feeling unsure about how this was all going to work. Frankie offered to take up with her because Matthew just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Shannon’s husband, Matthew, was having a lot of problems with premature ejaculation. Afterwards, he would just roll over, disgusted with himself and leave her be, like if he couldn’t penetrate to his heart’s desire, then why bother trying to please her at all?

Shannon was sick of it. One day, out of sheer frustration, she made a comment to Frankie on the sidelines.

"It’s been hell..." Shannon said, "and if it doesn’t get any better at home, I’m gonna have to go find me a cowboy."

"A cowboy?"

"Yep. A studly dude with a ten gallon hat and a belt buckle." Shannon giggled, feeling a little relief from finally admitting the problem.

"You aren’t getting your rocks off?"

"Never." Shannon said, her voice barely a whisper. "Not anymore."

Frankie tore open a box of Twinkies. The kids were going to swarm in a few moments. The kids were out on the soccer field, running laps. The moms had to be ready.

"Maybe I can give you a hand." Frankie said quietly. "Then you won’t have to cheat on your husband."

Shit! Shannon could barely breathe after that. She blushed and stared at her shoes. Frankie worked at the bank! Frankie was in charge of the soccer schedule to make sure that the kids got treats during practice. Frankie was just another ordinary mom. Shannon had to stand and watch her son run for a minute, unsure of how to answer. Finally, she ducked and said, "We should talk about this later."

Frankie nodded. Shannon opened a box of CapriSun. It was weird to be acting normal while the conversation had taken a turn towards the carnal. Truth was, Shannon was ecstatic. She’d always wondered what it would be like to sleep with another woman and now her chance was at hand! She pinched herself to make sure this was real.

They had lunch the next Monday. After that they got in one car. Frankie said, "Let’s find a hotel."

They were off.

"You might have to be rough." Shannon said quietly.

Frankie turned and looked at her. "What do you mean? Rough? What exactly are you talking about?"

"You might have to bite my nipples." Shannon said, looking away, embarrassed.

"Then I’ll chew away," Frankie said, relieved that was all it was. This could get interesting. She always knew people had different buttons, but it would be challenging to be part of making someone else's buttons click. Frankie had been fifteen years with her husband, Jacob…funny how we all got so comfortable…

"It’ll probably take penetration." Shannon added. As long as she was telling her everything .

Frankie laughed. "Well there's NOT going to be a cowboy, so I'll do what I can about that."

"And…" Shannon stopped. This part was hard, because people didn't talk about this sort of thing.

"And what?" Frankie wanted to know.

"And sometimes when I come, I push really hard, and...well...if I've relaxed all my muscles…and sometimes, well...you would get wet."

"Oh that." Frankie said. "Then we can take a shower."

"That happens to you?"

"Not really, but I can see the possibility."

Shannon felt better. She was always embarrassed about that part of it, but it felt erotic when it happened. She still didn't know if she could show Frankie this part of her, this kind of wild thing that she could become when she fucked. She laid awake the night before imagining what Frankie looked like when she had sex. Frankie was probably all pretty about it. Well, maybe Frankie wasn't always pretty about it. Sometimes Shannon could come when she was like that, all soft and complacent, but usually it took some groundwork and some acceptance.

They came to Las Cruces.

"We're in Las Cruces?" Shannon said. She hadn't really noticed which way they were driving.

Then she laughed. "Well, we could just go fuck at Becca's, because she never locks her door." Becca had kids on the soccer team, too. Becca was the wild one. One time she bragged that if she crossed a busy intersection while eating a banana, she could stop traffic.

Frankie said, " Stop that. I am not going to fuck you, Shannon. If that’s all you want, I’m stopping the car right here and you can go find that cowboy."

Shannon looked at her to read her reaction. "Sorry," she said. She sometimes said things like that to get a reaction, and well, this time she got one.

Frankie pulled into the gas station. She filled the car with gas, and went in to ask directions. She wasn't quite sure how to say it, she was sure that everyone inside would see that the car was full of only two women, and they would read things into "I need to find a motel" at 2:00 in the afternoon. She bit the bullet and asked.

She got directions, and the guy didn't raise any more of an eyebrow than the man at the intersection while Becca was eating the banana.

They came to the motel. Shannon didn't really care what it looked like, as long as it wasn’t trashy, and it had a bed. They walked in. It smelled funny. Shannon lit a candle and placed it by the bed. The pear scent was subtle and began blowing through the air. It wasn't dark in the room, so they pulled the shades. Frankie pulled her to her, and kissed her so suddenly that Shannon stopped short. Frankie unzipped Shannon's jeans pushed her hand inside and grabbed her pussy,

"So you might need me to get rough?" she asked in a very aggressive whisper.

Shannon smiled, embarrassed. "A little. Hang on though, if you start that way, it won't go anywhere."

"Well then tell me how to start, because I am here to do whatever it's going to take."

"I won't be able to tell you, because I can't say most of this. It’s really hard for me to talk about it. But I can probably move your hand or your mouth where I want it when I want it and if I push into you or say 'harder'--you'll have to work with me."

Frankie gulped in a deep breath. She was not sure how to do any of this, or if she could do it at all. So Shannon added, "and if I can't do it, then I will sit up and we'll walk away from this for a bit, and maybe try again."

"We'll get it right," Frankie said, determined. It was nothing to make a man to come. She was used to Jacob spurting his jizz all over her hand when she was barely getting started. Frankie had never really thought about it being this tricky for another woman. She kind of had a system of things that needed to be in place, a little routine of her own to get her body relaxed and her head in the right mood. But confronted with Shannon’s list of prerequisites, she thought she must be pretty easy about cumming. But, she reasoned, if Matthew could get Shannon to cum, it wasn't impossible. And Frankie figured she had a few tricks of her own. What tricks? She thought of everything that was on Jacob's usual repertoire, and realized that a lot of it came down to penetration. Well, she would think of them as she went. She smiled.

There was a bedside radio. "Music?" she asked.

Shannon was already laying on the bed. Sometimes she liked music when she was having sex. But not this time. Shannon shook her head no.

Frankie studied Shannon on the bed. She was practically shaking, she was so nervous. Why did she always get so stirred up about things?

"Relax" Frankie told her friend, and she pulled off her jeans and lay down beside her. She started to kiss her, and Shannon kissed her back, and they just kissed for awhile, and then Frankie started to undress Shannon and was glad that there was enough light to see what she was doing. Frankie

touched Shannon's body very lightly, watching the goosebumps rise and seeing her nipples respond, then she ran her hands down her body. Shannon lay motionless, allowing Frankie to take the lead.

After a moment, Frankie got up from the bed. She gathered up a small bag, and took it over to the sink. She took out a razor, a pair of scissors, a can of shaving cream. She wet the hotel wash cloth. She retrieved a large towel out of the bathroom and then took a last item out of the cosmetic bag--a bottle of baby oil.

"Okay, hon, come over here and sit up on this counter." She folded the towel and put it on the surface next to the sink.

Shannon was struck with a major attack of modesty right then. It looked like Frankie was about to shave her! She’d never done such a thing! Frankie just stood by the sink, running hot water. Shannon wasn’t sure she would be able to sit with her privates gaping open to some other woman. "I need a glass of wine."

Frankie giggled. "Okay, hon. But I’m not going to bite."

Shannon took a huge swig directly from the wine bottle, the Chardonnay burning as it went down. Shannon wondered what Matthew would think if he were a fly on the wall. Your wife’s about to have some other woman eat her beaver.... she thought. But Frankie looked so self-assured, so confident. She wasn’t phased by this at all! Shannon poured herself a glass of wine, using one of the motel plastic cups.

Shannon then sat on the edge of the counter, on the folded towel. She felt more nervous than she'd ever been in her life. Shannon spread her legs, revealing her crotch for the first time to another woman. It was strange. She’d never been modest about her private parts before. She knew her bush and pussy looked good and that the man she was with had never been disappointed. But Frankie wasn't a man and she was kneeling at face level right in front of her. Shannon felt exposed. It wasn’t like being at the gynecologist. This woman had an agenda.

"You don't need to be embarrassed." Frankie told her, picking up the scissors. "You have a beautiful pussy..."

Just hearing her say that made Shannon turn red. Frankie grabbed a pinch of blonde pubic hair and began snipping at it with the scissors. The hair fell softly onto the towel beneath Shannon’s bottom. Shannon sipped her wine. She needed the alcohol to steady her nerves.

Frankie clipped and snipped her pubic hair as close to the skin as she dared. Shannon was hyper aware of the hands flitting between her legs. Every touch, every brush against skin, made her feel alerted, alive. Frankie’s hands rhythmically pulled a pinch of curly hair away and cut it. She then brushed it downward where it joined the pile accumulating on the towel. As she trimmed close to Shannon’s pussy lips, Shannon felt her fingers brush against her several times. Frankie was humming under her breath as she worked.

"Okay, part two." She said when most of Shannon’s hair was trimmed away. She picked up the washcloth and dipped it into the hot water in the sink.

Shannon sipped at her wine. She looked helplessly down at her crotch while she did this. Already it looked vastly different than what she was used to. Her thick curls were reduced to a pile on the towel, leaving only blonde fuzz less than an eight of an inch or so. Her lips looked much more pronounced. What was she going to say to Matthew? Oh Honey, I got a wild hair up my ass...and well...I shaved it. Ha, ha, ha! Would a bare pussy make him more diligent? If that happened, it would be well worth the effort. But that was far down the road. For now, it was Frankie who was taking the time, Frankie who was preparing to tear that pussy up. Shannon felt funny, knowing she was making this drastic change for a woman, and not the man she loved.

Frankie laid the hot, steamy washcloth over her crotch. Shannon couldn't help but feel a strong tinge of sexual arousal at the contact. The sensation of heat and wetness on her most sensitive parts was really turning her on. Shannon asked Frankie to refill her glass with wine. This was going to be mind-blowing.

Frankie set the washcloth aside and picked up the can of shaving cream. She squirted into the palm of her hand and then, with the fingers of her other hand, began smearing it all over Shannon’s crotch, covering the fuzz that remained. Her fingers rubbed softly, working the cream in. As she neared the portions closest to Shannon’s vaginal lips, Shannon hoped to hell she knew what she was doing. She didn’t want to go home all razor burned. The shaving cream gave off a considerable heat of its own. Shannon relaxed into the aroused feelings she was having. It was all so exciting.

Frankie rinsed her hands in the sink and picked up the razor. "Let's start at the top," she said, reaching forward.

Frankie scraped off the largest accumulation of hair and shaving cream with a few gentle but practiced strokes of the razor. The skin beneath was smooth and slightly reddened from the friction. When her mons pubis was done she began working on the sides, moving from the outside in. After every two or three swipes she would dip the razor into the water. As she got closer to Shannon’s slit she was forced to grasp each lip between two fingers to pull it tight enough to shave. Her grip was firm but pleasingly gentle. Too pleasing. Tingles emanated through Shannon’s crotch and she felt herself getting wet. Frankie was definitely turning her on!

Shannon could feel herself becoming wetter by the second as Frankie’s fingers tugged and

pulled at her lips, from left to right, from bottom to top, shaving the hair away with the razor.

Shannon’s secretions were making her lips so slippery that Frankie had trouble keeping a grip on them. Twice her fingers almost slipped inside as she struggled to get a good grip and each time Shannon stifled a gasp of delight at the sensation. Shannon could smell herself now, the fresh, willing odor of pheromones drifting up from her crotch. Frankie noticed that Shannon’s clit was poking out of its hood like a prairie dog peering out of its hole. It was pink and swollen and Shannon wanted nothing more than to put her fingers to it and start rubbing. The pussy smell was thick in the air. Once Frankie’s knuckle brushed quickly over the top of her clit, making her jump and sending a jolt of pleasure shooting through her stomach.

"Sorry." Frankie said absently. "Hope I didn't hurt you."

"No." Shannon said, shaking her head, almost licking her lips with anticipation. Shannon’s hands were clenched tightly into fists and her body was breaking out in gooseflesh.

Finally Frankie was finished with the razor. She rinsed it in the water and set it aside. She picked up the washcloth once more and, using slow, firm strokes, she wiped away all of the residual shaving cream and hair fragments that remained. As she stroked her with the cloth Shannon’s arousal increased to a higher level as the rough cotton slipped over her lips, her pubis, her clit. Shannon’s hips involuntarily jerked a few times, actions that Frankie seemed not to notice. She set the cloth in the sink when she was done. Shannon was so surprised at how sensitive the whole area was now that it was bare. So alert. Each movement felt a thousand times more erotic.

"Viola!" Frankie exclaimed, leaning back a little. "What do you think?"

Shannon looked down at herself and saw a smooth, unmarred crotch. It was weird. She was so used to seeing hair down there that it was a little like looking at someone else's pussy. A child’s pussy. Except her lips were very swollen and her clit was as erect as she’d ever seen it.

"That was incredibe." Shannon admitted. "I think I’m ready now."

"Not yet. We need to put some baby oil on it." She said, picking up the bottle.

Frankie brought the bottle to her crotch and tipped it upside down, squirting the clear liquid on Shannon’s pussy. Immediately she caught the familiar fragrance, so innocent. Shannon remembered the scent well, from bathing her own children. On her pussy, the oil was cool and slimy. It dribbled downward, running over her clit and her lips and finally to the towel beneath. It felt absolutely divine. Shannon really loved that she was being smothered with Frankie’s attention. Of course, she could have put that oil on herself, but Frankie was taking her time, stroking it on with such tenderness. Shannon was quietly falling in love.

Frankie rubbed the oil into the newly shaved skin. She made tight circles with her fingers, massaging and kneading her flesh. Her fingers slipped deliciously over her pussy lips, pulled at them, and then slid slightly inside. Shannon gasped with pleasure at the contact. Frankie slid in and out, her finger sliding across the clitoris. Shannon moaned a little and her hips rocked, vaginal muscles clenching.

They moved it to the bed. They laid next to each other on the spread. "If I do something you don't like, then you tell me." Frankie stressed.

"You're doing fine."

Frankie kissed and stroked Shannon's body, whispering and licking and sucking on it, never touching her breasts or between her thighs. Shannon started to roll towards her and pushed against her. She was ready to be touched.

Frankie smiled. "I’m not ready yet."

"Well I am." Shannon insisted.

"No you're NOT." Frankie said in a thick voice. "You'll be ready when I say you're ready."

Shannon felt her nipples grow hard with excitement. She sensed that Frankie was going to play the "When I Say You Can" game. She knew that one! She and Matthew played it, but not often enough. She was thrilled that Frankie was starting the game, and wanted to see how long Frankie could last at ordering her around. Matthew was a softie. He could never last long at all, not with the telling her what to do and when to do it. He always got too aroused, and because he was simply bigger, he’d finally just push her over, yank her legs apart, and ejaculate on the way in. Sometimes, she fought him, which made him more determined.

Frankie was about her size, so she didn't see them doing any big wrestling matches. It was definitely a fun way to start.

"Undress me. NOW. Take your time." Frankie ordered.

Shannon moved to undress her friend. Her hands were shaking. She kept expecting someone to rush into their private room and demand, You can’t do that! You’re married. You can’t cheat on your husband with another woman.

"Slow down. Pay attention to what you’re doing. I mean it."

Shannon halted. Frankie was right. Part of what she’d loved about the shaving session was that Frankie had done it so slowly and deliberately, elaborating on every step. Shannon eased Frankie’s sweater up over her head. She traced the line of lace around her bra. Frankie’s bra had push-up inserts, so she flowed out the top. Shannon so wanted to kiss the flesh that was busting out of the cups. Then she realized that she would be allowed, so she leaned down and did it. Just like that. Oh her flesh was so, so soft! There was a small red mole hidden in the cleavage. Shannon kissed it. She unfastened the clip at the front of her bra and peeled the cups away. Oh! Her breasts were so beautiful. They were full and pale. The contrast between the fair skin and the ruddy nipples was incredible. Shannon leaned down to suck the nipples. "Not yet," Frankie ordered. "Just take off the rest of my clothes."

After a bit more of doing things Frankie’s way, Shannon was itching to be touched. She started to ease her hand between her thighs. Frankie saw her hand move and stopped it. "No you don't. You can't do that till I say. Right now, I want you to go down on Me."

And Frankie pushed her head. Shannon started sucking and licking at Frankie's pussy. Frankie lay back on the bed. Shannon started to move her hand to her own pussy again, and Frankie saw it, and said, "I didn't say you could do that." Frankie pulled her hand away, and gripped it tightly. Shannon could not move her hand.

"Hey," Frankie said aggressively, "You’re doing a pretty sloppy job of that pussy eating, you know. I like to be licked here. Right here," and she moved Shannon's mouth to a different spot, and Shannon kissed and licked there, and began to dot it in a steady beat with her tongue.

Frankie lay still and suddenly quiet, so Shannon knew she was on to something. Frankie crumpled under her, and Shannon pulled her hand away. She began to stoke other parts of Frankie's pussy and reached up to rub her nipples with at first very soft, gentle strokes, and then later, more persistent pinching motions. Frankie stopped her mouth at her pussy, and breathed to her in a much different voice, "Suck on my breasts," she pleaded. Shannon did, keeping one hand back where her mouth had been. It was so exciting to make love to Frankie! She couldn't believe how perfect it was. It was all about timing and patience. All about staging and pace.

Frankie knew that Shannon wanted to masturbate. She made her wait. Then she whispered, "Show me where you touch yourself. I want to watch your hand."

Shannon moved. She crouched above Frankie, straddling her face. Shannon closed her eyes, and moved her hand inches away, "showing" Frankie what she liked. The whole idea that she was finger fucking inches in front of another woman’s face was just about enough to set her off! And every movement was intensified because the area was newly bare. It felt so amazing! She couldn’t believe she was going to come so soon! She started to buckle into a climax and follow it. She hadn’t even thought she’d be able to come!!

Frankie noticed the shift of intensity, and stopped her. She moved her hand. Then Frankie's mouth was there on her clit instead.

Shannon froze. What the hell was that? Frankie interrupted her climax! Now she was sure she would never cum. The feeling was gone. If it was going to come back, it needed to be cajoled. Shannon ground her pussy relentlessly against Frankie’s eager face. Frankie explored with her tongue and fingers, urging the intensity to return.

Nothing.

Shannon became certain that Frankie would never make any impact from this position, so she pulled off, and lay down on the bed beside Frankie, resigned. She didn’t think she would cum! Not now. Frankie moved down to open her thighs and played some games of her own. She tasted and sucked and licked and dabbed at places, and traced them with her fingertips. Then slipped her finger inside Shannon's vagina.

Shannon rose a bit in the bed, "Watch your nails," she whispered, distressed.

"Sorry," Frankie said, and she quickly removed her finger to bite off the problem. She could taste Shannon all over her finger. Frankie slipped the finger back inside and began to touch and resist places inside. All the while, Frankie was studying Shannon's face, trying to read her, moving her finger slowly, then changing pace. Shannon made this seem impossible. Would she get her to cum? Maybe the newness of their being together would be enough. But that could go either way. Sometimes the first time was the worst time.

Shannon rolled out from under Frankie’s hand. She pulled away, and laid listlessly on the bed. She felt resigned. She’d wanted to come, and now she was pissed! Shannon got up and moved between Frankie's thighs to taste her again.

"Hey, it’s my turn to make you come, remember?" Frankie teased

Shannon stopped. Frankie was right. That was a habit of hers, and it happened when she was with Matthew especially. She got impatient because she didn’t think she would cum, so she immediately went into the role of the martyr. She’d give up and start to give oral sex to her partner, resenting that Matthew didn’t seem to care whether she came or not. And sometimes he was in his mood, because he would have ejaculated before he was ready. Made for some pretty angry sessions of sex. But Frankie wasn’t doing that to her. Frankie was willing to work through it.

"Then give me a minute," Shannon said, rolling onto her back. Frankie knelt between her thighs. Frankie's breath exhaled warm against Shannon's bare pussy. Frankie pursed her lips like she was about to whistle, and started blowing against Shannon for a minute, then resumed her licking and tasting. She used her hand to feel inside of Shannon, and then she stopped for a minute. She pulled something from her purse on the floor, and asked, "Would it be okay if I used this?" She held up a vibrator. It was not huge, but it was more ample than Shannon was used to.

"On Me or on YOU?" Shannon wanted to know.

"On you."

Shannon thought it more a matter of curiosity than anything else. She wasn’t much into electronics. "You’re doing fine by yourself." Then she thought about it, "Oh go ahead, I want to see what it does. Is that yours?"

"I bought it new just in case." Frankie admitted, face blushing. "I thought it would be tacky to assume that you would want to use something that had already been inside of me."

So Shannon held still and the humming was weird, an odd addition to their breathing. "Can I turn on the radio?" Shannon asked. Frankie turned off the motor, so Shannon could think to find a station. Then Frankie licked Shannon one time with the flat of her tongue, then turned the vibrator on again.

Shannon waited. "I’m not sure that’s doing anything for me," she said after a minute or so. She’d never been big on mechanical toys. Frankie adjusted a button and the motor became more incessant. Shannon could immediately feel a difference, and began rocking into it. Trying to get into it. The toy felt unexpected, but everything was unexpected today.

for monogamy.  It just didn’t come up for me.  I lost my virginity at thirteen when a group of boys gang raped me.  The lesson learned was that Nothing Ever Happens the way you Expect It To.  I don’t remember much about it.  They held me down and pulled at my clothes and I squeezed my eyes shut tight the whole time.  I remembered I laughed when one of them couldn’t get it in.  I just wanted it over with.  Seemed to me the fastest way to be able to leave was if they just did their thing and finished.  Then came the rumors. Oh God, what vicious rumors.  Rumors and gossip hurt me far worse than the rape.

And funny, but the ones who gossip are the least likely to be able to understand how a rape could happen, and the most likely to fear something like that happening to them.  Then when they gossip, they start all sorts of ideas in other boy’s minds, like maybe they could have something like that happen and get away with it.  Like maybe the girl they’re all talking about would do it again.

At any rate, my MOTHER learned I was sexually active.  Never mind that it wasn’t my choice.  She hauled me to the doctor and I had to sit humiliated with my feet sprawled in the stirrups and they took “cultures” out of my vagina with swabs and wooden sticks and I vowed NEVER AGAIN.

But I liked boys.  Oh I liked the boys.  There was this one guy, later that summer, and I chased him when I finally got the guts to wear a two-piece swimsuit (with my 36C’s jutting all the way out to HERE).  We took Red Cross Lifesaving together.  He was already a lifeguard.  I was in advanced swimming.  He used to come to me under the water and hold my hand.  We’d swim side by side, under water.  Like mermaids.  I fell in love with him and wrote him passionate thoughts and poems until one day when he tried to have sex with me in the back of his car. He’d heard all sorts of things about me and how promiscuous I must be to have those rumors fly.  But in reality, I was trying to do the “born again” (at least by persistence and denial) virgin thing.  I told him “no, I musn’t.”  Of course I couldn’t.  I was trying to be a good girl.  But when he held me in his big, strong arms and kissed me with his tongue pressing into the back of my mouth and his erection pressing into my thigh, I was a good girl with a throbbing coming up through my loins and very, very wet panties.

It wasn’t long after the “no, I musn’t” that he told me he was serious about a girl his own age (he was eighteen) and he was going to marry her.  He gave me the “let’s be friends” hug, and told me that I should go out with his little brother who was my age (fourteen). 

So heartbroken, I gave his little brother a call.  A little brother was better than nothing.  Or was he?  The brother, Mark, was sweet.  A little too sweet.  I was more interested in the other brother, Ward, who had live crickets jumping around in his room because they’d run for their lives when he’d tried to feed them to the gecko.  I went over and watched the Gong Show with Mark.  We sat together on the couch with sweaty palms, giggling and making smart remarks about The Unknown Comic.  Then after Mark went to work and I was waiting for my ride home, Ward pulled me into the room with the crickets, and put me on the top bunk.  My heart was racing so fast, I decided I wasn’t going to be a good girl anymore.  I peeled off my pants and he put it in, and I closed my eyes and he rocked my world.  The wooden frame of the bunk bed whack! whack! whacked against the wall until his fingers gripped my upper arms.  I held my hands gingerly on his ass, wanting to push him deeper inside. Then it was all over too fast and there was the stickiness that he left on my crotch.

Wow!  This was my first time it was consensual.  There was chemistry, and it felt good!  He rolled over, wiped it off with a sock, and stumbled into the bathroom.  So much for romance.

I stopped seeing Mark not long after that.  I didn’t need to be messing with my “boyfriend’s” brother. Just seeing a glimpse of Ward would make me feel more alert, the sky seemed bluer, my hearing more acute.  I couldn’t explain any of that to Mark.  So I just stopped seeing him. 

Then I was alone again.  I had no release for the sexual tension I was experiencing.  My mother never made me feel it was okay to explore myself on my own. It always felt so dirty, so shameful.  I lay awake at night, listening to the crickets.  It would make me so horny, thinking about that time we had up on Ward’s bed.  I would slide my hand just inside the waistband of my pj’s, just to the point where I could reach inside the folds, not to do anything, just to touch.  I would lay a finger against my bump, checking to see how aroused it got, how engorged with blood, how easy it would be to key it up.  Then I would slip the finger past that bumpy bulge at the start of my vagina and remember, just imagine, how fabulous it’d felt when he slid his lanky, slender penis inside of me.  My hands felt so stubby in comparison.

I so wanted to stroke the fire out of my cunt!  I prayed for God to deliver me from evil.  I stayed awake for hours, tossing and turning, punching my pillow, then exhausted–I’d settle two fingers down on the wetness and rock my hips until I could finally fall asleep.

Then oh my goodness!  There he was at the fair! Ward found me at the fairgrounds that one summer day and with him was his best friend, Jimmy.  Ward had told Jimmy all about our little tryst on the bunk in his room, and what with the embellishing he did, it must have sounded pretty damn hot. I was blushing outright to think of what Jimmy must think of me.

Ward told me that Jimmy was still a virgin, and he asked me to do them both.  Shit!  I had to think about it.  I mean, I was the girl.  They weren’t going to get the reputation.  I was.  But then, there was that whole gang rape hysteria, and oh, I pretty much already had one. This wouldn’t change a thing.

It was one thing to have an undeserved reputation.  It was quite another to embrace it.

I told them I at least wanted a ride on the Ferris wheel.  They plunked down some tickets and the three of us got into the little white car.  The carnival dude with no front teeth hooked down the safety bar and winked at the three of us.  I’d sat in the middle and before we could even get up and out of sight, both of them had their arms around my back and were feeling the side of a tit.  Holy shit!  Now no one ever prepared me that this could all be the way it worked. Here I was, naively thinking I was supposed to end up with one steady boyfriend and he was supposed to be too jealous to allow any other fella to lay a hand on me.  This new version of reality was blowing my mind.  This boyfriend wanted to share me with his friend!  What the hell?

We began the ascent to the top, cars lurching to the top as the Carnie stopped each time to let in a new batch of people.  I looked over to see if Ward was really okay with all of this and he kissed my mouth. Then Jimmy wanted one too.  I still wasn’t sure how I felt about this, but I wanted to be a good sport, so I gave him a little peck.  A moment later, he had his tongue probing against my lips.  I kind of shook him off.  Then Ward had his hand sliding up my shirt.  I’d no more put his hand back on his leg when Jimmy had his hand creeping in on the other side.  Was this okay?  I was completely torn.  I really wanted Ward to have his hands all over me (okay, maybe a little more privately), but he really seemed to want Jimmy in on our arrangement.

At the fair, anything seemed possible.  Anything. The cars lurched a couple more times, then the Ferris wheel started going. Well if they could touch me, I could touch them!  My heart racing, I reached over and pushed the bulge forming in Ward’s jeans.  It made me tingle to know that I was touching his hard-on.  Oh God.  I avoided looking at his face, or looking at Jimmy to see if he saw.  But he saw.  No doubt.  His hand was reaching for my nipple, which was doing the ole “Hi, how you doing?” salute, poking completely through the layers of my bra and my clothes.  Next, both boys had hands slipping inside my thighs, and Ward pinched my pussy. 

“Cut it out!” I giggled.

The man running the ride was enjoying the show.  When it came time to change riders, he skipped our car.  Surprised, I looked down at him, and his eyes flashed.  We had an audience!

I don’t know what was getting into me!  I felt both giddy and exhibitionist at the same time.  It was wonderful to be getting all this attention from three different guys!  What the hell?  I put my hand behind me under my shirt.  I unfastened my bra. I passed the strap through my sleeve and popped my arm through that strap.  My bra came out the other armhole.  All this underneath my shirt.  They guys looked at me like I’d just done a magic trick. 

“Oh shit,” they said in unison as my boobs sprang loose.

At once, I had both boys all over those 36C’s like flies on a hamburger.  Jimmy pulled my top up to look at my nipple.  I clapped the shirt down, but not fast enough.  The carnival guy caught an eyeful!  He started laughing.  Jimmy tweaked my nipple.  I felt a spark of excitement shoot though my body, stirring my abdomen.  I could feel actual drips of my juices seep into my panties. 
 
I felt a gust of wind and looked down at my blouse.  It had come unbuttoned.  Ward’s glance followed my eyes, and he laughed, "What have we here?"  His hand crept under my shirt, cupping my breast in his hand.  Suddenly, I was a million miles away and totally oblivious to everything in the world.  The ride started going again, so the boys felt more courage and their hands roamed across my tits, pressing and exploring.  An “I dare you” look flashed between the boys.  Ward held me back and Jimmy slipped a hand between my thighs.  I couldn’t help it.  I  wanted to spread my legs and let him stir up my animal instincts.  But I wasn’t supposed to like this!  What would my mother say?

My nose was wide open.  I smelled the salty scent from the back of Jimmy’s neck and my pussy was hot!  His hand buried between my thighs, all the way up against my puss, he said, “Wow!”  I knew that my smells were seeping through the fabrics and if he pressed his hand to his nose, he would smell everything I had.

This time when the ride was over, the carnival guy let us out.  I felt incredibly flushed.  If he didn’t see everything, it definitely was written all over my face.  Not to mention that my 36C’s were swinging under my shirt. I wasn’t quite sure what happened to my bra.  The Carnival guy suggested that all of us go into his trailer later on, he would get a break around four thirty.  My heart raced a thousand miles an hour.  He looked so skanky!  Thankfully Ward had words to say, "No, Man.  Not this time," and we darted off, laughing.

What was I getting myself into?

We went through the 4-H booth then.  I walked a little ahead of the boys, still trying to figure out what to do. On the one hand, having sex with two boys at the same time would be a total thrill.  But how were we going to get away with it?  Where were we supposed to go?

At the dairy barn they were giving away sample Frosties. We each got a cone, swirled with vanilla ice cream.  I know I was trying to look all cool and collected, like this sort of thing happened to me every day.  My mind racing, I asked the boys if they’d ever been to the reservoir.

Next, the three of us were hiking up the road, hand in hand, arm in arm, if no one was driving by.  I was totally getting into the idea of having sex with both of them, out here in the sunshine, where I could study their erections and try giving head.  Both Jimmy and Ward were walking awkwardly, occasionally pinching at the bulge. I tried to be casual about brushing against Ward.  I wanted to feel his boner through his jeans.  Oh my God!  It felt so wiry, like a spring. It wobbled somewhat, and returned to the exact spot it had been before I had touched it.  I was dying of curiosity.  How exactly did that thing work?
 
We got up to the reservoir, and under the cover of some trees, we found a brushy area that we ducked into. Jimmy took his sweatshirt off and laid it out.  Apparently it was supposed to protect me from the elements.  My hands were shaking.  I figured I should undress, but I didn’t exactly know how to get naked in front of two guys.  I mean, this didn’t just come natural to me.  One time, I’d gotten restricted from TV for a week because my little brother let me see his cock.  Girls are supposed to behave themselves.  No matter what. Mother did try to teach me right from wrong.  I had to give her that.

I was feeling self-conscious, but the guys just peeled off their clothes, like they did it every day.  They thought nothing of whipping it out right in front of each other! Both their dicks twanged right up as soon as they slid out of their tidy whities.  Boiiiing!

I was embarrassed.  It was my turn.  I didn’t want to just pull down my pants and have them both looking at my puss.  What a double standard, huh?  I mean, I wanted to stare at them.  I hadn’t even realized how their pubic hair would stick out like a tuft of grass.  Ward’s pubic hair was reddish brown, and Jimmy’s was definitely darker.  More like mine.  Oh my God.  The thought of them just looking at my pubic hair made my mouth go dry.  I remembered that Ward had sort of seen me before, that time on his bed, but that was so quick.  Almost pointless.  This time, I was doing it with TWO guys. If Mother found out, my life would be fucking over.  I might as well just chalk it up, draw the silhouette of my body on the pavement and dive for the location off the tenth floor. 

At least I was going to go out with a bang.

Nervously, I unzipped my jeans and wiggled out of them.  My panties came down with my pants.  I clapped my hand over myself and looked at them and giggled.  “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Ward said, “You’re doing fine.”

I just knew they were staring at my stomach, how the cellulite kind of bubbled out below my navel.  I pulled my shirt down over my gut, hoping it would hide something.

“I think you look good.  Awesome.”  Jimmy declared.

Well I sure the hell didn’t believe him. These two were just out here to get a piece, not to be honest. 

But he sounded sincere.  And I have to say I wanted to eat it up, his compliments, his attention.  You see, we girls do not believe you are serious when you say you want to be with us.  We really, in our heart of hearts, believe you are just doing us to practice for the cheerleader, for the gymnast, for the gal you really want to fuck.

I looked at Jimmy’s cock.  He kind of had it in his hand, like he was holding it at bay.  I wondered if he was thinking, “Down, Boy.”

Well I didn’t know what to do.  I lay down with my back on the sweatshirt that Jimmy had spread out, and I opened my legs.  I felt their eyes searing through me.  Jimmy taking it in for the first time.  I wondered if he’d seen a dozen magazine girls, and if he was sorely disappointed.  Was he thinking, “so that’s all there is?” 

But somehow my insecurities didn’t make sense with what was going on.  Ward laid down on my left and Jimmy laid down on my right.  They gingerly put their hands on me.  Ward reached to unfasten the buttons on my shirt.  My breasts were splayed out to the sides.  Good grief.  Were they supposed to stay perky?  All pointed straight out.  Maybe I should sit up to give them a different angle.  I mean, after all, these guys could see everything.  Every mole, every pore, every goosebump.  My nipples were acting funny.  They were mooshed, like one of them got caught behind a button or something.  Jimmy didn’t seem to notice.  He just put his mouth over it and started sucking. 

What a strange sensation?  I mean, I knew I could push my breasts up and catch the damn thing in my own mouth, but this was different.  It felt completely wild to be the recipient.  To just lay down and let them take me.  A jumble of different songs went swirling through my head.  “Afternoon Delight...Take me, take me, take me....Mama’s got a squeeze box, Daddy never sleeps at night.” 

I closed my eyes and I could feel their things pressing into my thighs.  Ward on my left, Jimmy on the right.  I wanted to look down, to compare them, to see who was bigger.  What if one of them was really huge?  I opened an eye and squinted.  They were laying on top of them and I couldn’t see a thing.  I tried to be at one with my thighs.  Which one was bigger?  Ward’s was, I thought. 

Maybe I could get a good look at them before we were finished.

Ward started kissing my mouth.  He was all over me.  I could feel his tongue exploring my teeth, flitting around, over my tongue, under my tongue, back to my teeth.  He sucked a little and pulled my tongue into his mouth.  He tasted funny. But it wasn’t bad.  It wasn’t like he had bad breath or anything.

Then Jimmy put his hand down on my puss.  Right against the bare skin.  Oh my God.  I wondered if he was just looking at it, touching it with one hand, holding his thing with the other.  I was busy kissing Ward, and I was dying to know what Jimmy was thinking.  Did I smell okay?  Would he put his mouth on me?  Was I going to like this?

I felt him pushing my legs apart.  He smoothed my pubic hair down.  Then he pulled my labia apart!  Oh God.  I hardly dared to look at that myself.  No one had every really looked close up at my pussy, except I did that one time when I was in the house by myself.  I got out Mom’s compact and opened it and perched on the toilet and looked.  The folds were kind of purplish, at least more than I expected them to be.  And the hairs grew all over the place, even down the crack!  I pushed my finger around the ridges and it felt tingly.  That one little bumpy part in the front was almost too sensitive to touch!  I definitely didn’t want him messing with that little bumpy part. 

But he didn’t.  Jimmy just sat and looked at my puss.  I felt so self-conscious.  Like he could see through me.  Like I was invisible.  Or maybe I was suddenly ultra visible.  I wished I had one of those photographers to air brush me.  I tried to remember if I had any zits.  God, I hoped I didn’t have any fucking zits.

Whatever I had or didn’t have, the boys didn’t seem to mind.  I did notice they seemed to keep one hand on their thing.  I wondered if it felt weird to have dicks just dangling there, all vulnerable.  Were they feeling self-conscious too?  Maybe they didn’t want each other staring at their dicks.  Maybe they didn’t want me staring.  Maybe they didn’t care.

“Can you lay down here a minute?”  I heard myself ask.  I patted the sweatshirt and moved out of the way.  Ward scrambled under me and laid on his back.  His cock didn’t poke straight up like I thought it would.  It kind of swung down in an arch that almost hit his belly button.  It veered off to the right.  I wanted to touch it.  Would he let me?

Tentatively, I put my fingers on it.  I didn’t want to hurt him.  I knew that if I accidentally hit his balls I could cause him some real grief, but I didn’t know where the line was–the line between pleasure and pain. What if it was just all super-sensitive?  The way my little bumpy part was.  I mean, I didn’t really want them messing with that, not because I thought they would hurt me, more because I thought if they did anything, it would make me piss all over everything.  Sometimes when I masturbated, I hit that bump a little, and one time for sure it made me want to pee.  I went to the toilet and tweaked it persistently.  Then I peed, and the heat from my urine washed down over my hand.  I really liked the way it felt, but I didn’t want to have a burst of piss shoot out in the middle of our threesome.  Most of the time, hitting the bump felt okay, but I still wasn’t sure how everything worked down there. 

“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like, okay?”

“You’re doing fine.” Ward said.  His voice sounded a little funny.  Maybe he felt as weird as I did.  Maybe that time on his bed was his very first time?  We hadn’t ever talked about it, we just did it.

While I was leaning over him, Jimmy was behind me.  Suddenly I felt his hand on my inner thigh.  Right beside my butthole!  Oh my God.  He wasn’t going to look at my butthole, was he?  I turned and flashed him a grin.  “Be careful back there.  I’m a little nervous, okay?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”  He mumbled.

Yah, sure.

I went back to touching Ward’s cock.  It looked weird.  For some reason, I was reminded of E.T., the way his head kind of bulged out over his neck, the funny way the skin wrinkled up around him.  I didn’t want to push the skin around too much.  What if it hurt?  To be honest, I didn’t really know what the hell I was supposed to do.

“Here,” Ward said.  “Watch me a sec.”  And he put his hand over his thing, and he rubbed it up and down a few times.  It’s funny, because as scared as I was to move the skin around, that’s what he seemed to like.  “It’s not going to break,” he said, “believe me.”

I wanted to put my mouth on it.  The way I’d heard the wild girls did.  Guys were really supposed to like it when you put your mouth up and down on it.  I’d been a thumb sucker, so I wasn’t really phased by putting it into my mouth.  So I did it.  I slipped it into my mouth, my hand still firm on the shaft.  I heard Ward suck in real hard, and I pulled off at once.  “Am I hurting you?” I asked, panicked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Hell no.  That’s just right.  Keep it up.  Try sliding your mouth up and down.” 

He pushed his pelvis forward, trying to guide his thing back into my mouth.  Sweet Mother of God, I was so worried I was hurting him!  I tried to settle back down on it, pushing it back into my mouth, but this was my first time giving a blow job.  Oh my teeth!  He's hitting my teeth!  What if I scrape him?  And, what was this taste?  His smell seeped into my nostrils, and I stopped just short of snuffing and snorting like a new puppy to figure out what it was.  (Girls don't smell like this!)  It wasn’t so much a taste, but his sweat, all up in my nose.  It was so carnal, and I was totally going for it, but it was unlike anything else I’d encountered before. 

Then everything all ran together.  Jimmy was back there, you know, by my butt, and I don’t know what the hell he was doing, but he started pushing stuff around back there, rubbing my puss, and oh hell was I wet!  And from that angle.  Oh my.  I just kinda jutted my ass back at him and oooh Lordy, was he messing with my head!  Euphoria swept up over me, like a bank of fog in the valley.  I couldn’t see what I was doing.  I kept looking for a way out.  But when you’re in a fog, all there is to do is to pay attention to exactly what is before you, and that, as you know, was Ward’s twitching cock. 

Now if you’re thinking about doing a threesome yourself, all I can tell you is that first time, it was totally overwhelming.  When I could pay attention to what I was doing and bob my face up and down on that arching cock, he started writhing and moaning.  Then I was distracted from sucking what I was supposed to be sucking. 

Then Jimmy started doing his thing back there behind me.  At first he was just making sure everything was wet enough to slide himself in.  Then when he first stuck it in, especially with me on my hands and knees bent over Ward, well oh my God, there was nothing I could do to make myself keep focusing on Ward.  I backed up on his dick, and felt him resist, ramming against me.  It slid so much deeper than my finger ever reached.  I mean, there was that one time I’d stuck a nail polish bottle up in there, then I got chicken that it would get stuck, so I pulled it right back out.  Jimmy’s dick didn’t feel like that.  There were no edges, he just merged into me.  For some reason I was struck that he was the exact temperature I was.  It woke something inside, and suddenly, I couldn’t get enough. 

“Oh! Oh, oh oh, oh!”  I called out after a few moments.

“Hey Man, she’s liking that.  Whatever you’re doing, keep it going, Man.”

“I don’t know how long I’m gonna last...” Jimmy panted.  “It’s feels too damn good.”

“Then pull it out, Man.  Give yourself a break.”

Jimmy pulled it out.  I yelped, startled by the sudden change.  I wanted some more.  I looked back over my shoulder and he was standing behind me, kind of stroking it, kind of just pinching it.

Ward scrambled up from underneath me, “I want some of that too.”

Then he was behind me and pushing it in.  Yes.  He definitely went in a little deeper than Jimmy, and oh my goodness, I don’t know what the hell he was pushing up against inside of me, but oh it felt so, so good.  I arched my back and closed my eyes.  I put my hand down between my legs and kind of held it there.  Like I said, all of this was new, and I couldn’t tell if I needed to pee.  I kind of thought I needed to, but then it felt okay.  Jimmy watched where I put my hand.  In a minute, he put his hand there too, right there on that bumpy part and he started to rub it.  Ward kept pounding away from behind. 

“Ah! Oh, oh, oh, oh...”  I couldn’t help it.  The sounds were sudden, and coming out of me almost against my will.  He was hitting on something, something glorious.  I felt a momentum building up, but I didn’t feel afraid that I was going to pee anymore.  It was different than that.  Jimmy kept twitching his hand back and forth across my puss, and whatever it was he was doing, I didn’t want him to stop. 

All I could think was Hallelujah!  Hallelujah!  Jesus, I was DONE trying to be a good girl, trying to fight these animal urges. I was fucking done.  I had my butt arching up and down on that great angle of his dick and he was really sticking it to me.  Jimmy actually rolled under me, there with his head in the sticks and the dirt and he pushed up against me and put his mouth on my puss!  His tongue lolled around, flitting here and there, staying persistent in the folds.   I was loving it!  I was loving every fucking minute of it. 

I mean, there I was, a moment earlier, afraid to take it out of my pants, hardly able to do more than unzip and pull.  Then here I was, just a few minutes later, grinding my puss up and down on one guy’s face while the other one rode me from behind!  It was wonderful!

Ward’s cock seemed to be swelling to a new size!  I knelt down on my forearms, arching into it, and I could feel it sliding up and down against the lateral walls, friction, friction, friction.  Oh it was good!  Jimmy was working his hand, then his mouth.  Quite honestly, I didn’t know WHAT he was doing, but he was hitting something right.  Exactly right.  I squeezed Ward with my cunt, gripping his great dick with the walls of my pussy, and wonderful warm feelings washed over me.
I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from yelling. “Oh shit!”

Then Ward groaned aloud.  I was surprised to hear him so close to my ear.  He pulled out, and I felt him squirt stuff all over the cheeks of my ass.  I reached back to feel it, and it was all sticky.  I licked it off my hand.  Oh Goodness!  I wasn’t expecting it to taste like THAT.  I reached into my pocket for a piece of gum while I decided whether I liked it.

“Let me finish, okay?”  Jimmy asked, and backed out from under me.  He pushed it in, I was quite slippery by then, and it only took him a moment before he fired it off.  “Ah, ah, ah, ah!” he called out as he shot his load. 

I ended up wiping their cum off my ass with my cotton panties and tossing them under a tree. Hopefully my mother wouldn’t be looking up when I came into the house, and wouldn’t ask me where my bra and underpants disappeared to.  I was feeling euphoric, and when I felt like that, I got a little too mouthy.  It was sure to set her off.  I was sure she’d send me to my room.  If she did, I determined, then I would strip, lay back on the bed, and masturbate.  Stir all these good feelings back up.  Then I’d go take a bubble bath.  What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

When I stood up and started walking--I don’t know how to describe it--I just felt opened.  I felt like my pussy was pulled out to its real size, and there was no going back.  Whenever I moved, I was acutely aware that I had just been PROBED, and it felt marvelous.  Like a secret I didn’t need to share.  I had a real cunt, and it was all mine.

Later, we all noticed scratch marks on each other where we didn't have scratch marks before.  Suddenly, I feel quite nervous like of course the whole world would KNOW what we’d been up to.  I spent time tugging on my clothes, pulling sticks out of my hair and my socks.  When we got back to the fairgrounds, we went our separate ways.  I needed to go home.  I smelled like sex and I needed to put on a bra.

Even though Ward, Jimmy and I all promised to find each other again some time, so far it hasn’t happened.  Meanwhile, they stirred up an appetite inside of me that I didn’t know how to keep up with.  I so wanted to have another meeting!  My puss was on fire, and I was masturbating two and three times a day...

Slutgirl was awakened.

th her. Earlier, I had wondered if we would play that game again. Part of me was scared that she wouldn’t want to play that way again and part of me was scared that she would. I wanted to look at her pussy again. I know I had one, but I couldn’t really get a look at what it looked like. I wanted to study how it was put together. I wanted to do it while I could have the lights on. But then I was worried that someone was going to find out and we’d be in big trouble.

"Do me first," she begged.

I put my hand on her pussy and started to stroke the skin. I petted the skin below her belly button like I was petting the cat.

"Shirley?"

"What?"

"Who was the boy?"

"What boy?"

"You know, the boy who wanted to... to... you know."

She was quiet. I stopped stroking her skin and just touched the fold where one lip slightly overlapped the other. The skin was so- so smooth. She opened her legs wider, and pulled the covers down, sitting up a bit so she could watch my fingers. "Go inside the crack, Jennie." She whispered, desperate and breathless. "Rub on that little button. Put your finger inside."

I moved to get between her legs. I was kneeling, and bent forward and laid my belly on the bed so I could see. I spread the lips apart the way she had in the bathtub and studied the different folds of skin and that bulge of a button. I put out two fingers and stroked that bulge.

She laid back and looked at the ceiling. "Keep doing that," she said, quietly.

I wondered how many times she rubbed herself right there. I kept rubbing Shirley’s pussy until a sticky wetness started leaking out.

"You’re not peeing on me, are you?" I pulled my hand away and smelled the wetness.

"No," she giggled. "Keep rubbing there."

It smelled a little like pee, but not too much. I tasted my finger. The juice was salty, but sweet. Maybe it would be nice to put my mouth there.

I started to rub her some more. What if I put my mouth there?

Ever since that day in the bathtub, I played the rubbing game by myself at night and that one time when I took a bath in the afternoon. I even got the nozzle down from the wall and sprayed my cooter real good for a minute, but it felt kinda funny to do it all by myself. I liked doing it while Shirley was there, so she could spray me and I could spray her, and I could imagine how it felt like for her. I liked looking at her cooter, especially when she pinched the lips of her pussy and spread it real wide and I could see that strange little hole. Where the dick goes. I wanted to try pushing my finger inside.

I was right down there between her legs again and I couldn’t resist. I licked my finger and started to slide it down towards that hole. I rubbed past that place where the pee comes out and she squirmed.

"Try sticking it inside. Where the dick goes."

I licked my finger again. It smelled pungent, like pickles and peach jelly, watered down. I pushed my finger towards that opening. That hole where the dick goes. I wanted to feel inside that hole.

My finger slipped in. It was a little slimy. Smooth. Inviting. Shirley pushed her hips forward against my hand, pushing the finger in a little deeper.

"Careful. I don’t wanna scratch you."

"It doesn’t hurt," Shirley said. "Do it some more."

I couldn’t believe it. She started rocking her bottom so that my finger stroked in and out. The hole closed tight around my finger.

How big is a dick?

I thought about my finger being a little dick for Shirley and I wondered about her rocking back and forth. "Keep rubbing it, Jennie," she said. She put her own hand down over mine and guided my finger a little deeper. She pushed my hand. "Do it faster," she directed.

I kept stroking in and out. I could feel a nice ridge towards the back of the hole, but I liked the tight squeeze of the skin as my finger slurped in and out. She put her own hand down on her cooter and started rubbing that little bump. That one that she said she liked to rub. I watched her finger and it seemed like the bump got a little harder and stood a little taller as her finger swirled across it.

My face was right up next to her cooter and I could smell her. I don’t know how to describe it. It was like she was getting hotter and moister and the closer I got, the better it smelled.

I wanted to put my mouth on her.

I decided to try it. I stuck out my tongue and leaned forward.

"Jennie, what are you doing?"

I pulled back, feeling clumsy and careless. I stopped moving my finger around in her hole.

"Nothing," I said.

Suddenly I felt stupid. What’d I have to do that for?

I sat up and pulled my hand away from her warm sweet pussy. I was a bad, bad nasty girl.

Shirley sat up and grabbed my hand. "No, keep rubbing me." She put her finger back on my bump and slid my hand so that my finger went inside her pussy hole.

I felt confused. Did she still want me to lick it? Or was that too weird?

I went back to the rubbing game. When a song played on the TV, I started stroking with the beat of the music.

"Yes, yes." she said. "That feels real good."

She started arching her back a little and closed her eyes. I liked watching her, then I closed my eyes and really concentrated on stroking that pussy hole the way she said she liked it. Suddenly, she bucked a little on the bed and I opened one eye. Her hair was kinda damp and sweaty.

"I like that!" she said. "You want me to do it to you?"

I smelled my hand. I tasted the wetness. It tasted good!

I felt funny smelling her cooter. I felt awkward not knowing how to ask her how it felt to rub inside that hole. "Your pussy smells good. I mean, when you get all wet like that." I put my hand out to her nose.

"I know," she said. "That’s why I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to do when that boy said he wanted to lick it."

"What boy?"

She got quiet.

"What boy?" I asked again.

"I don’t want to tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because you know him."

"Omigod. No way." I knew a boy who wanted to lick Shirley’s cooter? No way. Then I started thinking that maybe he had a pretty good idea. Who would tell Shirley that he wanted to lick her cooter? I couldn’t believe I was even wondering about such a thing.

"It’s Manny." She said flatly.

"No way!" I pushed her back on the bed. She fell back against the pillow. "No way!"

I pulled my knees together in front of me and smoothed my nightgown down over my legs. Manny, my step-brother. All of a sudden, I felt like an idiot. Foolish and naive. Clumsy and boyish. I clamped my legs together.

I couldn’t believe it. How did he come up with such a thing? Why would he want to do that to her? Manny was almost my brother.

I reached for the bag of chips and the remote control. I turned the television a little louder and started crunching on salt and potatoes. I smacked my lips.

How come he didn’t ask to do that to me? Would I let him if he did?

Shirley sat on the bed next to me without saying a word. The rubbing game was over. We sat there and both of us tried pretending it never happened.

Before too much longer, she took her pillow and knocked me on the head. I jumped up and grabbed my pillow and slammed it on her. I knew she was still my bestest, bestest friend. She had to be. She was the only one I knew who would let me touch her cooter.

After Shirley turned off the light, I laid there in the bed next to her and thought about how her pussy felt. I wondered if my hole was as deep as hers. I started to reach down to test it, but I didn’t want to wake her up. Her lips were more swollen than mine and she seemed to like rubbing that bump a lot. I tried rubbing mine, but it felt sharp when I did, a little like shocking myself with static electricity. It felt good, but intense. I wanted to try it some more. I waited in the dark, trying to go to sleep, trying not to think about that secret, special place between my legs that I wanted to feel some more. I wanted to rub on that bump and feel the smoothness on the outside of my bald cooter lips. But I didn’t want Shirley to know that’s what I wanted to do. So I lay there without moving, hoping I wouldn’t wake her up.

That’s when I got it in my head that I would make Manny show me his dick.

I wondered. Her hole was tight. How could a man stick a big thick dick inside? I mean even if it was as big as my daddy’s thumb...well, it just seemed like that would fit tight. Real tight.

by Fyre

a pretty big piece of canvas for that?"

"I didn't know how much I would need."

I step behind you. "I’m going to start now. No more questions."

I flip on the stereo and music swells out from the speakers, and erupts into the room, leaving no space for conversation. The music is artsy and abstract. Dramatic, then subtle. I stand behind you and start to rub your shoulders. The tension of your day stands in knots behind your neck.

You drink your beer. You hand it to me, and I finish it.

"You want another?" I offer.

"That’d be great."

This time, I open it, take a long drink, then move to kiss you and push the taste in with my tongue. You kiss me, a little surprised. Sometimes I’m a little stingy with kisses. You grab my ass.

"Not yet," I say and pull your hands away. "Okay, back to the regularly scheduled program..."

You wonder what the hell I have up my sleeve.

I cross over to the counter. You take a swig of beer. I bring a tray covered with small bowls and cups from the refrigerator.

"Now what’re you doing?"

"Stop talking."

"Is this for the painting?" you ask.

"No questions," I insist and answer you with a soft kiss on the forehead. I start to rub a paste on your cheeks. I dab the stuff on, smoothing it over soft skin. The paste is a pale green, containing avocados or cucumbers or some such mess, and I whisper, "close your eyes," and place chilled, damp tea bags over your eyelids. I continue spreading the cream on your face, and leave your lips in the middle, bare, and oh, so kissable. Problem is, I couldn't find your lips without getting some of that thick paste all over my own face.

Another quick preparation, and the microwave pings that something is ready.

I take two bowls out of the microwave and touch the liquid to my wrist, checking the temperature.

"This is kinda fun," you say, eyes still closed behind tea bags. "I could get into this kind of special treatment. Could I order one up next Thursday?" I try not to laugh, because if you could see how funny your face looks covered with green vegetable goo, you might not want to do it again.

"Shh!" I whisper fiercely, and kneel down and remove your shoes. Nearby, I have a small tub of dissolved Epson salts and I place your feet into the warmth of that. While your feet soak, I take a warm wet cloth and remove the paste from your face. I take away the tea bags. I wash your face one more time, and then clean it with cotton balls soaked in some Mary Kay product that I pulled from the back of the bathroom closet. It smells sweet and clean. I take your feet out of the water, and dry them with a towel.

"Okay, I’m ready to paint you now."

What’s this? You wonder. You had to clean me up first? You feel a little pampered, but then you also feel pissed. What the hell was that all about? You sit up on the chair. You take a drink of beer. You decide to lay low and go with the flow.

"I’m gonna take your clothes off, ‘kay?"

Intrigued that I plan to paint you nude, you wonder what I will do with the painting after it’s finished. That canvas is pretty big. You hope it doesn't become the next billboard down by city hall.

I crouch in front of you, and start kissing your neck. I move to center front and find the first button with my mouth. I unfasten that with my teeth, grateful that the flannel is soft and the buttonholes are somewhat stretched. With a few twists and some teeth action, I soon have all the buttons undone and start to run my tongue down the front of your body to your belt. You stand to push the discomfort of a crowded cock to the loose part of your jeans. I unfasten faded jeans as you stand, and pull them down. Your huge cock springs into my face, and I ache to take you inside my mouth.

But that’s not the plan.

I want to just look at your body; I want to savor every detail. I pat the center of the canvas, and ask you to lie down on it.

"I am going to paint you."

With that, I motion for you to roll on your stomach, and turn away to get a tray. You mutter, "What the fuck?" but you are not interested in having some sort of showdown with me now about wills. Your cock knows how to slide home to the back of my throat with no effort, and you know that whatever little game I have going here will lead ultimately to that. Since it means you have to wait, you’ll wait.

I start to squeeze my "paint" out of a tube. I take a brush, and begin painting your back, then I stop. With a grease pencil, I make dark, demanding circles across your back and then the paint brush strokes resume, soft, and deft. At some points they start to tickle, the paint solution drooling down, and then I take a different brush, with different bristles and take a different solution and paint with that. I cover your back and then paint your legs, and then I start to paint your buttocks. I touch your skin only with the fine hairs of the paint brush, then take a small nylon scrubber dipped in a paste, and press that on, stippling, and clouding the area and the effect of the first paint. I paint with tiny brushes that tickle you lightly, then with natural sponges that brush the paints on with wrinkles and chasms folding inside. The aromas from the various oils engulf the two of us, citrusy or spicy, heady and pungent. Some of the solutions I designed myself, searching for an array of scent and color–cinnamon, cloves, limes, peaches, even peppermint.

I trace your skin with strokes. All oiled, the brush feels like a tongue's caress. Many of the oils I’m using are heated, but some are straight from the refrigerator, and when I use a particularly warm one, your skin flickers a cringe as your body gets used to the new temperature. When I see that happen, I stroke, stroke, stroke it into a nearby area, longing to lean forward and smooth it all out with my mouth. I refrain, staining dark areas with vanilla, and other areas with cucumber oil that glistens. One oil is a reddish brown and it smells cinnamony and light. My passion paints visibly all across your back, huge swirls of color, vast sexual overtones. I ache for you.

"Roll over, Sweetie." I say, softly.

"I’m all wet." You protest, and I nudge at you, and you roll, leaving a smear of color on the floor cloth. Your erection springs up, and the tip curves almost to your belly button. I stand over you now wearing only a long white shirt, and you decide I must have changed quickly while you were on your stomach, waiting for something to heat up, or when you thought I had stepped away to retrieve something. You can look right up my shirt and see the hairs of my soft pussy, and above, the swish of loose breasts as I stand and reach to grab something on the counter top. I feel you starting to reach up to touch me. Deftly, I take a spray bottle of ice water and squeeze the trigger, jetting a cold stream into your face. It works on the cats.

You laugh at my efforts, "Hey hey" you say before settling back into the canvas so I can start to paint your legs.

One moment, I am using a two inch brush from the hardware store, and then I switch to a sponge brush with some coconut oil and I skip over your eager cock to paint your stomach. I take the grease pencil again, and I draw exotic flower shapes and dark birds across your skin, almost tribal elements. I paint with a small brush and color them in with a bluish tint. Another stain is a dark, coffee brown, and I paint you and you can smell it, it is thick, dark, espresso. I paint this on your chest and the strokes make your nipples stand to a hard ripple that I can hardly resist. I want to run my hands down your body and run all the colors together. I stand up and you look up at me, towering over you, and you can see my own nakedness under the flowing, soft shirt, and you long to reach up.

I laugh and brandish the squirt bottle threateningly, "Not yet!"

Then, I take a large red pomegranate out of the nearby bowl of fresh fruit and begin to pull off the hull in large, pithy pieces. The bright fruit is clinging to the milky flesh, with the pieces of crisp red berries dangling in clusters. I wipe my hair out of my face and a smear of brown covers my cheek. I crouch down over you, my pussy almost touching your stomach. Balanced there, I start to feed you pieces of the fruit. I want to smother you in a wave of erotic gestures, and this fruit with its belly full of eggs, my pussy wavering an inch away from your cock is just about enough to do you in. I put some fruit into my mouth and pass it to you with a kiss. The berries crunch as you bite them, and seeds drop away in pairs and bounce like scattered marbles. Drips of red juice drip away from my hands and splash onto your face on dark features.

I lay the fruit aside, and reach to pick up a stray seed that has fallen on your stomach. As I take the berry between my fingertips, I press it together with a snap, and then paint its redness with my fingertip across the one bare streak left on your shoulder. This is the first time I have touched your skin with my hand, and it signals a change, and soon I feel your hand tentatively snake up under my shirt and its warmth as you take hold of my breast. I relax right into your palm, for it is what I have been aching to yield against. You sit up beneath me, all painted and primitive, and I kiss you. Your hands unbutton my blouse, and at once it becomes an oily stained rag as you pull it off my shoulders.

You see the white canvas of my own skin and you want to paint me. You roll away, taking charge, filling your hands with oils and paints, then streaking them across my skin and body, rubbing and finger-painting the oils and scents into original designs, meticulously at first, then hurried and intense, loud and exclamatory as the music suddenly vibrates through the core of the room. You lower me down to the cloth, and continue to rub and massage color and oil into my skin. As your own body moves across the canvas, the oils and paints smear off in random design.

You spread my thighs apart and take a brush filled with water and rose petals and watch the strokes of warmth settle there on my inner legs. You dip the brush again, with chamomile tea scents and stroke it on my pussy, watching my body react to the heat. You know that the liquid next to it is much colder, so you dip a thick brush there, and then stroke my clitoris with that brush, deep and intense.

I start to feel a sudden tingly, burning sensation and quickly ask, "Which one was THAT." I clap my hand over my throbbing clit.

"What's wrong?" You ask, laying the paintbrush aside. "What happened?" You point to the dish that you had last dipped the paintbrush in. "What’s in there?"

"Straight tequila." I answer, "and I’m not sure it was designed to GO there. It doesn’t hurt, but it definitely gave me a kick start."

You move quickly down and with your warm mouth, lick away the throb of the alcohol and it disappears in a matter of seconds as I relax into your mouth. The music sweeps across me, the scents flooding my senses.

I start to sink into that place where I don't care, and my body reacts in rhythm to yours for a minute or two, then I pull away and stop you. This isn't supposed to be about me, it was intended to be about you.

I lean against you and take your cock abruptly in my mouth, sucking deeply and feeling it respond. I slide it way back and tease the base with my tongue. My hand reaches into one of the cold solutions for a small piece of ice. With you still deep in my face, I rub that ice against my clit. The cold shocks me, then the ice melts and water drips down my thigh, my fingers reaching and finding, my mouth eager. I slip off your dick, and start to touch with the cool hand that held the ice. Your prick springs away and I hear the "Ah!" of your breath as surprise catches you. I lick the colors off your chest, taste the oils away, and they smear into my face, as I swallow the flavor. Coffee, vanilla, stains from berries, I taste them one at a time, and my own face becomes a muddied mass of color as I kiss them away. Some of the stains will stay put for a couple of days, I think playfully. I hope our clothes will cover most of them. Lingering on your thighs, I think about these dark stains, a shared secret, like a hickey we have to hide.

Your balls are cradled in my hand, and I move to the side and take your cock again into my mouth. I long to feel you come inside me.

Your taste is thick. My tongue, patient and firm, finds you there, hips rocking up against me in welcome. The music reaches for us, and we decide on the same beat, and I pulse my tongue against the ridge there, my hands holding you and waiting for cues. In moments, you come. It rises out of you with an arch and a quiet thrust. I let the waves subside, stop licking, and hold you in my mouth. Then I roll you on your back and straddle to sit. You feel me selfishly rock flesh against your back to hit a spot and my hand finds it and smooths it away. You feel me above you, fingerfucking myself above your back, and you roll to watch. I scoot and embellish with my hand, the wetness, and the strokes. Later, I drop my hand, to massage your face, rubbing my scent into the stubble of your beard. I have no doubt that you will be hard in moments and this time I will ride it. I love to fuck. You love to watch me. It always lasts longer the second time, after I take the edge off.

* * *

Later, as I wash up the paint pots, I survey the damage. The canvas is colored with a ripple of smears from our passion.  All in all, I think it was just about the right size.

ard.

She gasped. "Of course. Don’t we always?"

"But today, I want you to be ready to play. I mean ready."

"What’re you getting at?"

"I want the house clean so you aren’t distracted."

"Okay." She didn’t have a problem with that.

"I want your ass cleaned out."

She nodded. There were lots of times she did on Sunday mornings just because.

"I want your nails painted and your pussy rinsed."

"Gotcha." None of these orders were any big deal. They both had more fun when everything started out clean.

She turned away to tuck some napkins into his lunch.

"I wasn’t finished giving you my orders." He said sternly.

She turned back to give him a look. He usually didn’t order anyone around, least of all her. In fact, this whole list of things to do was quite out of character. "I’m sorry…" she said.

He pinched her tit harder. She gritted her teeth.

"I want dinner ready."

"Okay…" she said timidly. This really wasn’t like him.

"Vacuum the floor."

She looked at him very strangely. What the hell was this?

"And dust everything. All 100 of those dishes and girly things. There will be a white glove test when I get home."

"What?" She studied the cupboard of tiny knickknacks and curios. She had over a hundred dishes and dolls on the shelves. "How am I supposed to dust all of them if I’m doing all the other things you asked me to do?"

She tried to twist away but he gripped her tit, too roughly this time.

"It takes over an hour alone for me to do the enema. You know that."

"You figure it out."

"And what if I can’t do everything?"

"Then you shall be punished."

"Punished? What the hell do you mean?"

He cupped her tit in his hand and bent forward to take her nipple in his mouth through the cotton of her shirt. He bit it. Hard.

She thought she would have found all of this a little offensive. It was too demanding of him. It was too passive for her to stand there and take it. He had her nipple clenched between his teeth, and yes, it was hurting immensely. She tried to back away. He reached between her legs and jammed his fingers invasively, right into her cunt.

Yes, she was seeping wet.

"If you haven’t done what I asked, then there is a separate torture for each offense."

"A separate torture for each offense?" She tried to imagine what he was thinking… Hot candle wax? Ramming his hand up her pussy? What exactly were the tortures he had in mind? He usually brainstormed quite inventive ways to force her body to new limits.

She mentally counted the tasks. He’d given her six things to take care of. No, seven. He wanted dinner when he came home.

She nodded, a devious smile playing on her lips. "So, do you want me to accomplish any of the things you asked, or do you want to spend the afternoon doing terrible things to my body?"

He laughed, then quickly caught himself. "You’d better do what I asked." He took his sack lunch and opened the front door. "Lock up. Oh, and after work, as soon as I unlock the door, I want to open it to find your legs spread and see you masturbating on the couch."

"How will I know when you’re going to get here?" she asked. He often worked overtime on Sundays.

"You won’t. So you’d better start playing at the earliest time you think I’ll make it and continue until I arrive."

She giggled. This promised to be an interesting day. She could accomplish most of the things he had asked, but all of them? That was going to take a fair piece of work.

She locked the front door after he left. Where to start? She usually went back to sleep for a bit, but she’d better get her ass in gear (literally!) or he would have to think too hard to decide on eight different ways to torture her. She grinned. What if she lounged around and read a book? Nah. This sounded like too much fun. She didn’t mind having a list of tasks to do. She loved a challenge.

She started with the enema. She never really knew how long it would actually take, but she enjoyed herself more if she had a couple hours afterward to recoup and for nature to absorb the extra moisture. She ran hot bath water into the tub, then filled the water bottle, attaching the white hose. She wet her hand and used the bar of soap to suds her asshole before inserting the nozzle. It slid inside, and she clenched against its invasion. She knelt in the tub, the red plastic bottle under her knee and used her weight to express the water through the hose and into her ass. She sighed as the water slowly filled her back cavity. She never held the first bottle very long.

A moment later, she stood to get out of the tub. Water dripped as she squatted on the toilet to push the water—and anything else—out. She flipped through a magazine and let nature take its course. She filled the water bottle again--nice warm water--and climbed back into the tub for round two.

By round three, her body got into it. The water rushed inside, the initial debris flushed out, and she invited the warmth all through her rectum. It flowed forward, expanding her intestine into the front part of her body. Her stomach cramped slightly as she waited for her body to adjust to the expanse of water. She’d found long ago that if she rubbed her clit while she filled herself to capacity with water, she could take more water and hold it longer. She’d also found that she could often climax with the water inside of her, or while she expelled the clean water into the tub. Sometimes she’d take her black dildo into the tub with her, fill the tub about half full, and fuck her cunt with the dildo while she waited to see if all the residue had worked its way out. Sometimes she’d finger fuck herself, using the soap to lubricate her pussy and ass, work the dildo into her asshole to make herself come and force anything left inside into the bathwater. Usually by round five, there wasn’t anything left to come out, and the whole rigorous experience left her panting and eager for the ass fuck that was certain to come when her man got home and learned that she was there for the taking. There was something about her asshole that got him going. He really liked her asshole.

Anticipating the day’s events made her as horny as ever. She worked her hips into a frenzied pace, jamming the black dildo, trying to take the edge off. The enema felt good. She cleaned the nozzle and stuck it into her cunt. Her vagina didn’t hold the water, but she pressed the sides of the bottle to flush out the cavity. The water was cool, and the contrast from the heat of the bathwater was a rush. She pinched her clitoris forward and used her right hand to flick, flick, flick against the enlarged tip. It excited her to see it this way--like a miniature dick, waiting to be sucked.

If only she could suck it herself.

Try as she might, relief did not come. She splashed around in the water and gripped herself several times, trying to force a climax. Nothing. Nada. That wasn’t like her! She could usually come on command! She glanced at the clock. Shit! It was already 4:00. She’d been messing with this enema far too long. She’d only finished two things on the list! She’d rinsed her ass and her pussy. What next?

She scrambled for a towel. She dried herself. Her fingers and toes puckered from being in the water so long, so she snatched the nail polish and remover from the cabinet--the next logical chore. She painted her fingernails deftly, then waved them around, blowing on them to dry. She didn’t have time!

The house was a mess. He was right. When it was cluttered, it distracted her. She couldn’t relax until it was clean. She couldn’t cook and leave that mess either. She had to start with the dishes from making his lunch. It was too early to vacuum. The tenant in the next apartment liked to sleep late.

She rushed through the kitchen. It seemed like the more she scrubbed, the more contrast there was to the places she hadn’t scrubbed, so she had to work fast and furious to get the job done. She polished the glass above the bathroom sink and sprayed the tub. She swept the floor into the rug. She’d get the crumbs with the vacuum in a bit. She glanced at her hands. She’d chipped her nails! They were as raggedy as ever after using the scrubber and messing with chemicals. She went back to the bathroom to do them again. The bed needed to be made. The vacuuming. Cooking dinner. There was still tons to do.

Inside the freezer there was nothing she wanted to eat. She pulled on some clothes and ran to the store. Thankfully, it was open 24 hours. She filled a blue basket and paid at the register. It was getting to be pretty late. She’d never get the cupboard clean. Never. Dusting her china went quick but not that quick. She liked to take a minute to polish each piece.

Her heart stopped when got back home from the store. His car was parked in the lot. He was home. How was that possible? She glanced at her watch. It wasn’t even 9:30!

He was seated on the couch, his erect dick in his hand. "Where were you?" he asked gruffly.

"I had to get some things at the store," she mumbled. "I didn’t think you’d be home."

"It was slow. They sent me home early."

That never happened. Not ever. How was she supposed to anticipate that?

He continued, "I had a chance to look over the house." He glanced at her small hands. "Well at least you painted your nails. Otherwise, it looks like you used the whole time to clean out your ass…"

"I straightened up a bit," I said defensively.

"You didn’t even make the bed."

"I didn’t think you’d be home."

"Obviously. Otherwise, like I ordered, you’d be here on the couch instead of me, finger-fucking that pussy of yours."

His voice had an aggressive quality that excited her. It was that same voice that he’d had the first time they’d been together that seduced her heart forever.

"So what’s my punishment?" she asked.

"Come suck my dick."

She put the bag of groceries on the table.

"Now, Bitch."

That wasn’t much of a punishment as she loved to suck him off, but his tone was different. She rushed over and knelt in front of him, taking his huge cock in her mouth. It was fully enlarged and pulsing, way too big for her to take all the way inside.

He pushed the back of her head, forcing his dick into her mouth further. "For not vacuuming the floor, I’m going to gag you with this thing."

She was glad she hadn’t eaten. He started ramming against the back of her mouth, filling her face. She tried to adjust her mouth to get a better angle, but he was hitting the soft palette at the top of her mouth. She choked. She never minded the choking, it happened. What she really craved was to satisfy them both and to deepthroat the entire eight inches. But so far, she’d never been able to.

"This will never do. Go lay on the bed with your mouth open."

She went into the room and lay on her back, dropping her head over the side of the bed, her mouth gaping open. He quickly straddled in front of her face and started to ram his black cock into her white throat. She gagged immediately, her body involuntarily buckling and a stream of piss shot down the leg of her pants. She clamped her right hand over her pussy, trying to pinch it in.

"I didn’t say you could touch that," he said.

She moved her hand away. He fucked her face again. She bucked against it and gasped for air. He grabbed her head and forced his way inside. He was being unusually rough. He slid fully into her throat. Oh my God!

It thrilled her. She loved to be his little slut. His whore.

Do it again!

When he pulled his dick out, a string of thick mucus from the top of her throat came with it. He let her breathe, then rammed again. She clenched her legs together, trying not to pee from the force of his slamming his dick into her throat. He watched her arch and he bent over to unzip her jeans. Her body had absorbed the last of the moisture from her ass enema and was trying to let it go. She needed to pee! He rammed again, way into her throat, and she gagged. A slight stream of yellow arched into the air.

"Rub your pussy," he directed.

He had his dick in her face. She started to rub her clit through her clothes. "Take off your pants and spread your legs. You know how I like you when I watch."

Straining to hold her mouth open so she wouldn’t accidentally bite, she kicked off her shoes and squirmed out of her pants. She spread her legs and started to rub. She was very wet, in part from the piss, but also excited. She wanted to comply with his orders but she knew if she did, she would climax, and then she would really squirt her load. She wasn’t looking forward to spending the afternoon cleaning the bedding.

He watched her and backed against the wall, stroking his dick right in front of her face. He used his other hand to find the flannel and rubber mat she used to keep the bed from getting too messy in times like this. He tossed it at her on the bed. She scrambled to unfold it and lay it out across the quilt she had made.

"Now fuck that pussy," he directed when she was done. He handed her the black dildo. "I found this by the tub. You didn’t clean up after yourself very well."

"I was letting it dry."

"Don’t talk." He masturbated in front of her. His black dick gleamed from the lubrication he kept by the bed. "You like this?"

She nodded.

"Well for not being on the couch masturbating when I came in, I’m going to have to tie you up, so you can’t touch it. You can only watch."

She obediently fucked herself with the latex cock while he found some pieces of rope to tie her legs to the legs of the bed. The dildo found an itch deep in her cunt and she had to rub it. "Ah, ah…" her breath started to catch as she hit the spot.

"Spread them more," he directed. He kept stroking his massive cock right in front of her face. He was really turning her on.

She opened her legs as far as they would go. She fucked her pussy with the smooth latex dick. She ready to come.

He sensed what she was up to. "Stop."

"What?"

"I said ‘Don’t talk!’"

She nodded.

"Stop fucking yourself."

She stilled her hand. She was going to come anyway. She felt the involuntary clench of muscles from her belly force the black cock out of her cunt. It shot over the edge of the bed like a missile.

He laughed, then covered it with his hand and grew serious. "For not having dinner ready when I came home, I’m going to slap that ass. But first, I’m going to fuck it."

He loosened the loops of rope off her ankles. She immediately drew them together to take away the strain of having them spread so wide. His dick bobbed with excitement.

"Turn around."

She crawled around on the bed. When her hands got to the area where her feet had been, he used the same ropes to tie her wrists. He stood behind her at the side of the bed where her face had been. He had her bent forward, her ass high in the air in front of him. She knew he was going to slip his own beautiful black dick inside that ass.

He did. He stood swinging his hips, his hands gripping the cheeks of her ass, spreading her anus. He liked watching it gape open. He pushed her hips forward. "Arch your back."

She didn’t do it immediately, so he slapped her ass. "I said, ‘arch your back.’"

She tried her best. This was a trickier position than she expected it to be. When her body responded to the pulse of his hard-on pounding into her asshole, she liked to relax against it. Yet there he was, making her bend into a different angle, apparently because he liked the view and the way her flesh stroked his dick. But the arch made it tough for her to take the full length of his erection. She relaxed. He slapped her again.

She arched her back. He pounded against her. "You like that?" He asked.

She nodded.

Yes, she liked it!

He slapped her again. "Arch your back."

He pounded again. She pressed her hips back, right into his dick, feeling it worm invasively inside her rectum. Oooh--yes, she liked it.

She squirmed against the constraints on her wrists. She wanted to finger her pussy. This was one of her favorite positions, him deep inside her ass, pounding away, and she knew if she could get her hand loose to rub her throbbing clit, she would come. But her hands were tied.

She grinned. Now she knew where the expression had come from.

He slapped her again. Twice.

She arched her back.

"Now you’re getting the idea."

Oh she wanted to come! The beat of his pelvis hitting her ass cheeks and the thickness of his dick against all the muscles of her asshole made her about to scream. Oh, how she wanted to finger fuck herself so she could come!

"Is this what you want?" He leaned over her, his dick fully inside her, reaching around to flick at her clit. Oh yes! She opened her legs, grinding against his fingers. He was hard and demanding and she came, almost too hard, gripping his dick with her asshole as she did.

"Squirt it, Baby," he breathed in his hard, sexy way.

A stream of piss cascaded down around his hand, all over the rubber mat.

"There you go," he said.

"Now for not having the house dusted by the time I came home--I believe you have 100 knickknacks, and you didn’t have any done--I’m going to stick my hand up that asshole."

Oh my goodness! Even though he had loosened things up with his dick, she’d never been able to take his whole hand. Maybe a couple of fingers, yes the dildo, but never the whole hand. He slipped into a latex glove and splashed lubricant over his fingers. She parted her thighs and braced herself.

He wasn’t kidding. He slid his fingers deeper and deeper. He rounded out his hand, the thumb inside. She tried to relax. He pulled his hand away, wanting to see how big he had stretched out the hole. She tensed, and it tightened immediately, like a sea anenome pulling tendrils safe inside. He worked his fingers back against the hole, parting it, inserting again. She could feel him work his way deeper and deeper, and finally the gulp as the largest part past his thumb forced into her ass. The lubrication helped. Thank God for good lubrication. She arched her back and he was inside. She could feel a sense of relief. Was this the final punishment?

"I said 100 knickknacks, so I am going to ream this asshole 100 times."

She couldn’t believe what she heard. She’d never been able to take his hand before, and now he was going to jam it in a hundred times? She tried to relax. He started to stroke it in and out. Ow, ow, ow…she counted in her head.

It had to get better. But no, her body--which loved swallowing his eight-inch dick--started to fight against the foreign object. The muscles tensed. A cramp shot up her rectum. Ouch!

This was never going to happen. Never in a million years. Not 100 times. No way.

He started to laugh. "I’m just messing with you," he said, pulling his hand out. The pain subsided.

He reached around her and untied the knots. "Come on," he said, kissing her mouth, "let’s fuck." His dick throbbed against her leg.

She folded the rubber mat once and lay back on a dry spot. She opened herself to him, throwing her feet up over his shoulders as he leaned down to fuck her pussy. She started cumming.

Oh shit, how she loved this man.

she thought.

ttle.... it’s been a long day. Do you unfasten the button at the top of your pants? I like to think that sometimes you might as you venture into another jaunt of my imagination.

Yep. I think about it on and off all day. What will I post next? Will I find the perfect picture? Can I think of a zinger to advertise in my Blast? Will I catch YOUR eye?

I love that you have found me because of my stories... I know you men are reading too, but I’m directing this one at a certain Chick. I have to say that it’s not been hard for me in my life to enchant men. I mean, after all, I’m a slut and men like sluts. No big surprise there.

The magic has been in whether or not I could attract females. And as you know, females can be finicky. Working in the same office with women is the trickiest thing in the world. Today, everyone’s all fine and good, but tomorrow, slip and say the wrong thing, and I could be bitch-slapped. So forgive me, my Dear, for saying this, but the whole idea of YOU coming here for a little moment of your day, or on the weekend after the kids have found something to do and you have a few alone minutes...it totally captures me to think that you might take that stolen moment to find my words here... What a compliment! It strokes my ego, massages my psyche.

So as I write this, I imagine you there, with your hand on the mouse, scrolling down... What really keys me up is to think that maybe sometime, maybe not at exactly this moment, but at any moment late at night, you might lie there in the dark, thinking of something I wrote today, and your hand might slip between your thighs, and your might take pause to ease it down between the folds and find what’s there and think about my story and whatever captured you. Do you bring your finger to your mouth and lick that slickness off? Do you get your finger sloppy wet inside your mouth and put it back directly on your clit and find that special smooth spot you like so much? (I like the top left part of my clit. What about you? Would you ever tell me, even if you thought about it?) Do you rub it sloppy-lazy when you start, and a little more persistently if you decide to finish? Or do you get yourself into a lather and tell yourself HE’LL be home soon, might as well keep it at a dull roar and HE can finish you tonight? (I do that too!)

So guesds what I’m doing while I’m writing this? I’ve been so fraeking horny all day long. I came home to the computr fresh from the shower, wrpped in a white towel. The towel fell when I sat down, draping the cmputer chair in terry. I can sit here and dabblre with words on the screen while I rub on my clit, getting the jucies flowing, smelling the soft smell of me rising up frm my hand. Ah, the sweet smell of pussy, fresh from the shower!

I’d better stop that, I can’t even type!

I want to feel you inside of me so badly! I sit with my legs wide. If you could see through your monitor into my computer screen right now, I’d be putting on quite the show! Can you imagine? If I slide a finger inside my vagina right now, pull it back out, glistening. Want to suck it off? I wish you were here to do it for me.

Slurp!

(It was delicious!) It’s hrd to type. I have to keep backspcing to correct, to insert forgoten letters, to find the ALL CAP key. I want to have you here, sinking against me. I would kneel down between your legs, open you up and breathe deeply. I want to smell your scent for real. Can you imagine me there? My face planted firmly between your legs, my tongue probing your softness...

Would you hold my head where you want me to spend my time? Will I hear your breath catch, or are you a moaner? Will I feel a pull on the back of my head if I hit it just right? I can imagine my tongue lingering at the back of your vagina, then lapping all the way upwards, nice and slow. A big lapping tongue, pushing against all the ripples and valleys, a very flat and broad tongue.... I want to eat you alive! I lap and I lap, feeling you wriggle with delight. Do you moan? Do you say what you want? Do you tell me what to do? Or do you just take it, and quiver, imagining my next move, alive with expectation? I peel the lips of your labia back and pop! There’s that impish clit! Begging for attention. I focus there, whipping my tongue from side to side, feeling you squirm. I have all the time in the world. I start tapping out the secret percussion. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap.

“Oh! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop. DAMN, Girl! Who taught you that?” I hear at last.

My tongue draws into a sharp hyphen of energy, “Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta” I think as I tap out the rhythm against that pink bulb. I feel you shift underneath me, and imagine your hands clenched hard. I keep going, relentless. (If you think I’m going to give you any mercy now, you’ve got to be kidding!) I brace. I want to hear you scream. The energy builds. Your thighs quiver against my ears.

 “Sheeeeeiiiiiiiiit! Dddddaaaamn! Oh Gaaaawd.”

I back off for a second, then I hold you hard where I want you and go in for the kill. I press my fingers down from the top against where your g-spot is and I come up from inside and stroke against that spongy lifesaver in there. I know I changed up the pace, and it’s going to take a minute, but I keep stroking it, just two fingers inside of you, motioning like I want you to come here. I do want you to cum here, but I can be patient. My breath is coming out all hot and ragged against you, so I pucker my lips and blow out a cold, focused stream, right against your sex. I stroke and stroke and stroke there, and I lap your pussy with a big flat tongue a few times. Mix it up a little. Then back to the stroking, stroking, stroking. Cum for me, cum for me, cum for me, I beg.

“Keep going...keep going.... I’m allllllmoooossst therrrrree!”

Your hands clasp the top of my head, pinning me to your cunny, and a gush of warm spray hits my face. I keep licking and stroking, now a third finger inside, finding its way... You tense, then you jolt, and your cum splashes out in a rush, all in my face, my nose, my hair. It tastes so wonderful, I lap it off of you, sweet relief rushing through you in waves.

Come on, Pretty Girl. You can do it.

I stroke your pussy with persistence, and you arch your back and cry out one more time.

“Oh! OOOOOOoh! Aaannngh! Oh!”

You moan and thrash. I smooth clenching muscles and dry away droplets of water. I hardly want to take my hands away. I wait as the orgasm subsides.

I’m sure I could do that again...

* * *

“You always make me feel so relaxed.” You tell me later. Then you giggle. You couldn’t wipe the smile off my face to save the world.

working. He was staring at me! Goosebumps formed on my arms, and I dared myself to return the glance. I met his eyes, stayed locked inside the sweet blue of them, until I struggled with the "I can’t do this, what about Matthew?"

I looked away.

It had been a long, long time since anyone had noticed me this way! I was thrilled. I looked up and caught his eyes again. There was something about a man with black hair and blue eyes... Sexual tension jumped between us like a grasshopper. I was not sure if I wanted to grapple it into submission or let it spring away to safety. The bus jostled and I pretended I wasn’t staring.

He grinned.

"You like taking the bus?" I ventured. Most commuters didn’t speak on the bus; it was an unwritten code of conduct.

"It’s fine with me, especially when the scenery looks fabulous."

Outside, the weather slid into the standard Seattle drizzle. Cold and grey. He wasn’t talking about the view outside.

"The scenery looks pretty good to me today, too," I said quietly.

"What?"

"Oh, I was agreeing that the scenery looked amazingly nice for such a dank day."

"A dank day, huh?" He chuckled.Oh, I liked the way he laughed! He had an ease about him that I was immediately drawn to. He was someone I could imagine in my life--stepping from the shower, pulling biscuits from the oven, curled against my pillow. I evaluated the briefcase, the Dockers, and the simple shirt he wore with "Boeing" embroidered on the pocket. Wholesome. Amazingly trustworthy.

I smiled, thinking thoughts that would never be considered wholesome nor trustworthy. There was something about the way his eyes sparkled. Something compelling. I wanted to smell the back of his neck.

"You work at Boeing?"

"I’m an independent contractor, but I did a job there last year. Right now, I’m troubleshooting the network system at Starbucks."

He looked too young to be working hi-tech, but that was the new Seattlite. Smart ones went to school in Silicon Valley then moved to the Seattle area and worked in computer-driven jobs, making insane salaries.

"You take the bus all the time?" If he did, I’d certainly never noticed him before. With those incredible blue eyes, he would certainly have turned my head.

"I do when I have to work the hours I’ve been working lately. If I commute, I don’t have to fight the traffic. I can use my computer during the hours I’m in transit, which I can’t do if I drive."

"Makes sense." I shuffled my bags, sitting up straight. He glanced at my chest, looked down the rest of my body, and raised his eyebrows. He liked what he saw! I shifted in my seat, assessing. I couldn’t help but hold in my stomach. He didn’t look like the type who would pick up strange women.

"What about you?" he asked.

"What?"

"You take the bus often?"

"Three to four days a week, but I don’t always ride the same one."

"I usually ride a lot later," he said, smiling, "but I am glad I caught this one today."

I thought his smile would swallow me whole.

I flipped back open my book and stared at the print. What the hell was I doing? This was harmless, wasn’t it? He was still watching me! I creased the corner of the page I was reading. I had read it five times but couldn’t remember a word. He smiled. I looked away. Rain formed on the windows and trickled down in streaks. I couldn’t help it. His glance formed on my soul and I wanted it to saturate me.

The bus stopped at the Tacoma Dome Station. I wasn’t ready for the ride to be over.

I stepped off the bus. He followed. I noticed he was over six feet tall.

"What’s your name?" he asked.

"Karen. And yours?"

"Jeff."

"Well it’s nice to meet you, Jeff."

"I’d like to do more, if it’s okay with you." Jeff remarked.

"Huh?" I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. I couldn’t have heard him. It was one thing for me to imagine what he was thinking. It was quite another for him to actually say it. "What do you mean?"

"I mean--all I got to do was look. I’d like to touch."

Oh, I’d like that too , I thought. My stomach quivered. I forced composure, imagining it smothering all these crazy impulses. "I’m married," I blurted, certain the announcement would squelch the possibilities and put the conversation back into a conventional context. I’m married, aren’t I? For something like this, certainly I was married. My live-in boyfriend Matthew decided a month ago that since we’d been together seven years, we might as well be married. He told me that as far as he was concerned, we were married. Common law. We’re committed to each other and we have joint accounts, he said. Matthew said that was good enough, might as well be married. But I wasn’t used to thinking it. I wasn’t sure I liked it. I’m married.

I didn’t feel married.

"So am I," Jeff admitted. "I’m married too. That won’t be a problem. It’ll mean that we both have a reason to be discreet."

He didn’t care! I wasn’t sure what to do. You want to screw around, even though you’re married? I glanced at his left hand. Sure enough, there was a plain gold band.

My hands gripped so tightly around the straps of my tote bags that nails bit into my palms. I dropped the bags and opened my hands. I looked at Jeff. "What exactly do you have in mind?" As if I didn’t know.

"Well, this time of day, it would be easiest to get a motel, don’t you think?"

Shit oh dear. I blushed and looked at the cement. There was some kind of quartz mixed into the sand they had used to pour the concrete and now that it was wet, the sidewalk shimmered. I looked at him again. "You do this often?"

"Not at all. Never. It’s just that I’m really attracted to you, and I don’t take that lightly. You have wonderful eyes." He spoke not like a come-on, but like it was simply a matter of fact. If it sounded like a hustle, I would have turned on my heel and went on up to my car. But because there was something different about him, the fact that he looked so comfortable and spoke so directly about what he wanted, I stood there swallowing it up. Uh-oh. His eyes devoured me. I didn’t know why I was looking! I’d better go.

As common sense kicked in, I grabbed my bags and walked into the parking garage. My car was parked three flights up. Jeff followed without speaking, not pushing, not expecting, just following. I stumbled on a step. He put his hand out to catch me.

"Thanks." I said, and kept walking before I dared myself to spin and tell him just how adorable he really was. My heart raced. It felt so delicious to have torrid, outrageous thoughts about sex in the afternoon. Hot, sultry sex on the way home from work. Who would know? No, I told myself. I would know.

"Where’s your car?" I asked.

"Fourth floor. I drive a truck."

At the third floor, it was all I could do to turn and walk away from him. "Enjoyed meeting you!" I called.

"Maybe I’ll see you again." He skipped a step and continued up the stairs.

I was shaking. I put the bags into the trunk and pulled my wallet from my purse. I considered driving my car to the other side of the parking garage where I could see the exit and watch for his truck to descend the ramp. I wanted to follow him. I picked at my bottom lip.

I started the motor and backed into a space where I could watch the cars coming down from the upper levels. After a few minutes, I saw a Dodge Ram Pickup. It had to be his.

I waved.

He slowed to a stop in front of me. He rolled down the window.

"A hotel?" He mouthed.

I nodded. My hands felt clammy against the steering wheel. I had to swallow because there was no moisture left in my mouth. I’d never done anything like this!I almost couldn’t help myself. He looked so wholesome. So wonderful. I wanted to run my hands through his black hair. I wanted to kiss his mouth and stick my tongue inside. I wanted to feel his cock inside my body. I wanted to know how he sounded when he came.

He drove out of the parking garage. I followed him to a Day’s Inn in Fife.

I waited in my car while he went and made arrangements in the office. I wondered what name he was putting on the register. I wondered he was paying and if he’d have to account for the money to his wife. I even wondered if he would write it off as a business expense. It felt shameful to think of myself as some man’s business expense.Karen, you little slut.

What the hell was I doing? I kept an eye on the cross traffic, wondering if anyone I knew would notice my car. I didn’t think that Matthew ever came this way, but what if he did? How would I explain myself? I dug for a piece of gum in my purse and nervously snapped it while I waited for Jeff to come out.

I watched him walk down the sidewalk to Room 114. He opened the door with one of those programmed credit cards. I put my gum in the ashtray, pulled my coat collar up around the back of my head and crossed the parking lot to the room. He pushed the door open to let me in.

Inside the room, it felt suddenly uncomfortable. We were both looking at watches. Was your wife setting the table, waiting for you to get home? Were your kids in the yard, hoping you’d come home and toss a football? I felt arrested. I didn’t know if I could go through with this. He was risking his marriage. I was risking Matthew, who would be destroyed. I would have to keep this afternoon secret for the rest of my life. For the rest of my life. No matter how exciting this would be, how lit up I got, how amazing and unbelievable this was, I could never tell another soul. Could I keep a secret forever?

Jeff took off his jacket and set it across the back of the standard-issue hotel chair. He had surprisingly muscular arms for the type of work he did. He was really going to do this. He was really going to cheat on his wife. Shit oh dear.One look into Jeff’s devilish eyes, and I melted. He had a twinkle that I couldn’t resist. There was something about that black hair with uncanny blue eyes...unusual...almost unnatural. So hot I wanted to eat him alive.

I took off my coat and placed it over his. My hands were shaking. I felt him looking at my bod. I felt like a bug under a microscope. Do something, please.Jeff pushed a strand of hair out of my face and trailed his fingertips along my cheekbone. He kissed me, so intense. It shook the foundation of my being. It was the sort of kiss that I hardly admit that I do. Matthew didn’t kiss me that way. Jeff wrapped his arms around me, and held me tight. Then he sank down into the chair and I collapsed into him, giggling nervously. I wanted to rock his world.

I felt challenged. Would I be as wild, as wonderful as his wife? In a matter of seconds, I made up an entire history for the woman he was cheating on. I reasoned that she had to be fabulous, after all this gorgeous hunk married her. But certainly she was dull in bed. Why else would he cheat? That had to be her downfall.

I imagined that she was willowy and tall, wore patent leather shoes with pennies in them. She probably wore slacks, even around the house, and preppy turtlenecks. She probably majored in accounting and kept her kitchen immaculate. With all that to measure myself against, I felt like I had to make sure I was going to out-do her. I had to be incredible in bed. I really wanted to impress Jeff. And the only way I could, the only moment I had with him was this one. This one unique, stolen moment in time. Complete serendipity.I wanted--no, I needed–to be more exciting than his wife. I wanted to be the most awesome fuck he’d ever had. I wanted him to go home and remember me--to remember this afternoon--and smile. No matter where he was, if thoughts of this afternoon passed through his head, I wanted him to smile. I wanted him to think, Oh that was one fucking amazing piece of ass!

Okay, Jeff, ready or not, here I come.I leaned into the sweet smell at the back of his neck and nuzzled there, tasting and kissing, before I came around the front and licked the stubble across his chin. Jeff’s button-down shirt was a bit of a challenge to unbutton (with my teeth, anyway) but I was sure with patience and persistence, I could get it undone. I used my teeth and tongue to wrestle each button away from its buttonhole. I kissed my way down his shirt. The bottom ones were harder to get leverage against, so I cheated a little and pulled his shirt away from his chest. Jeff splayed his legs out. I could tell by the swell below his belt that he was ready.

Let him wait. This was my one time to cheat, my sole indiscretion. I wasn’t going to rush. I took my time unfastening his brown leather belt and pulled it away. I attacked the button on Jeff’s jeans with my fingers and unzipped and yes!--Jeff’s sweet dick curled upwards and pulsed against his belly, straining to get out of the confines of his cotton briefs. At least seven inches. Omigod!I moved his legs a little to indicate that I was going to pull off his pants. Jeff shoved them down to his ankles and poked his dick through the gap in his drawers. What? C’mon man, I’m not going to fuck through your clothes. What if he wanted me to bend over, push the elastic to the side, and do me through my panties? Yuk! That would not be amazing. I was not going to risk both our relationships over a quickie on an overstuffed chair. Fucking me through my panties, I’m just sure! The elastic would drag against the length of his cock. And what if it left a mark for his wife to find at home tonight? Oh no, that’s not going to happen. I leaned over and pulled his shoes off, then removed his pants. And his underwear.

I wanted Jeff’s undivided attention. I spun around and lifted my dress off over my head. Jeff could see how the back of my thong slipped up between my ass cheeks. It rode low on my back. I unfastened my bra and dropped it on the floor. My shoulders were soft and inviting. I leaned forward and slipped off my panties, nice and slow. I kicked them to the side. I sat down on his lap and felt his dick bulge against my bottom. It poked into the crack of my ass, straining. Oh! I loved the way I could feel his dick, so hard, twitching anxiously. I shifted and opened my legs just enough to slide his cock tight between my thighs. I kept myself clean-shaven, and his dick poked up against the front of my pussy. Dicks always had such unique personalities! Jeff’s wasn’t anything like Matthew’s. My smooth pussy folds fit around the head, and it peered out like a groundhog. I wondered if Jeff’s wife had a bare pussy.

"Tell me about your wife."

"Huh?" I felt tense thighs sag into the chair below me.

"No, I mean it. I want to know what she’s like."

His penis started to shrivel and sink into nothingness.

I started grinding against him. Stay hard, I thought. You have to stay hard. That cock’s too delectable to have it fade away...."I want to out-fuck her," I said, all breathy, hoping my dirty talk would make him crazy. "I don’t get to have you, Jeff, but for a minute. And you don’t get to keep me afterward. But while we share this stolen time, I want to be the hottest thing you’ve ever had. I want to fuck your brains out."

"Uh...uh, she’s just normal. Nothing special." He said. "Brown hair and glasses. She likes to read. We have a baby and she’s redecorating the baby’s room. To make it look a little older...for a toddler."You have a toddler? Shit oh dear. Thinking about out-fucking his wife was a complete turn-on, but now there was a toddler... Snap out of it, Karen.

I eyed his softening dick. Even now, it was larger than the cock I was used to. And frankly, I went this far, and I wasn’t going to have him turn into a shrinking violet. No more talk about the little wife.I turned and faced Jeff. I threw my legs over the arms of the chair. I moved my hands down to spread out my wet, pink slit. The pale outer lips peeled away to reveal my inner labia, all purplish. I was ridged like chewed bubble gum. I started petting my clitoris just inches from his face. My pussy was drenched. I’d been soaked since first seeing him on the bus. Juices seeped down my thighs.

"You want some of this?" I tentatively inserted my forefinger into my cunt. It came out glistening.

His eyes were locked on my pussy. His dick perked back to life.

I don’t usually get this wet all by myself. I was really turned-on. I wanted this man.

I wrapped my hands firmly around his shaft. My smooth, slick thumb glided across the swollen head. He pulsed. Yes!

I climbed down on the floor between his legs. I spit on my hands and wrapped long fingers around the length of his shaft. I started sucking the head. Just the head. This was going to be such a treat, I was going to take my sweet time. I traced circles around his balls while I sank his cock deep into my mouth. I loved the way he hit the back of my throat, like he was the perfect size and shape for me. So much bigger than Matthew. I slid Jeff in and out. I stroked the ridge behind his balls. My tongue pulsed against the base of his penis. When he pulled out, I lapped at the top of him, stroking diligently with the slight texture of my tongue. I loved having him inside my mouth! I settled in to suck more, a little harder even, and then when he pulled back, there was an uncomfortable slurping sound as he resisted the suction. I felt his hand push at the back of my head. I opened my mouth wide and slid down, my tongue flicking frantically. This time he slipped just into my throat. Oh, I wish I could take you that deep every time! I was self-conscious of my teeth–I’ve never had my wisdom teeth pulled. And I wasn’t used to anyone filling my mouth so completely. No matter. Jeff’s hand was at the back of my head again, and he started to set a pace of up and down, up and down. He probed as deep as he could go.

Gasping, I pulled off suddenly, abruptly enough to make him tremble. Breathing heavy, I strained for the air I needed. He wanted my mouth on him again, and started to force my head. I was making him crazy. I gulped and sank down on his huge organ. It extended clear into my throat. I swallowed and pushed a little harder, the tip dragging against the super-sensitive skin that had never been touched. I almost gagged. I choked, the muscles clenching around his girth. Oh no, I was certainly too tight, my teeth too close! I could hear him catch his breath, then he dared to thrust it into the spongy tissues in my throat again. He shoved past my reflex, then I could rock him in and out of my oral cavity. Fuck my face, Baby, fuck my face!Jeff thrust his cock in and out of my mouth. He dipped past my wisdom teeth into my throat time and time again. Oh it felt wild to have him so deep in my throat! I knew I would be hoarse in the morning. I couldn’t do this to Matthew. Matthew didn’t take nearly this much room. My face felt so full! I could smell the slight musky smell, unique to Jeff. I loved it. I wondered if his wife could take the full length of his cock. Does she swallow you, Dear? He kept fucking my face.

I felt him getting harder and harder. I thought for sure he was going to cum. No! I needed to slow it down. I didn’t want him to ejaculate before I could ride the thing! He was so much bigger than Matthew. He was going to feel incredible inside my cunny. I stood and turned. I put one foot on each arm rest and crouched down over his erection. I slid him inside my pussy from behind and kept my feet on the armrests to push. I did squats up and down on his lap, his goddamned dick opening parts of me that hadn’t felt a man before. Omigod! How I loved a nice, thick dick. I loved the way he fit inside of me, stretching all the way to knock against my cervix. I could feel a little ping of sharpness every time I dropped down his full length and the head of his penis tapped that sensitive spot. Oooh, it was good! When I slid up, I slid down hard, my weight slamming against his hips. I knew from behind, he could see my grasping cunt muscles clenching his thick cock. Oooh, it felt so so good. My breath started to catch, and I kept rocking my hips up and down, steering him into the front of my vaginal wall, against my G-spot. Omigod.

"Uhn-uhn-uhn-uhn," I moaned, groaning with each motion. In my head, I started counting. Matthew would have come by now. I hardly had a chance with him. But Jeff was hitting me in all the right places. Hitting it just right. And with his extra volume, my cunny felt so full, so brimming with dick. "Uh-uhn-uhn-uhn."

Forty-nine, fifty....I didn’t think I could do squat thrusts much longer. It wasn’t that I was in such bad shape, but it really didn’t take this long to get Matt off and I wasn’t used to the extra exertion. Fifty-nine, sixty...

Jeff picked me up. Suddenly I was airborne. Omigod! I couldn’t believe he could support my weight. I wasn’t huge, but I wasn’t one of those lithe, darling things that could ride up and down a man’s pole like a pro. He wrapped his arms around my front and lowered me to the bed. I crouched on my hands and knees. He scarcely lost a stroke. He started pounding me from behind, doggy-style.

Omigod! Now I knew I was going to come. I arched my back so my ass was square against his lap. I could feel the scratch of his pubic hair as he slammed me from behind. He stood behind me, coming at me from beside the bed. Matthew was too short to do me with me on my hands and knees on the bed!

Jeff was ruthless. His breath started catching, he was making groaning noises and sighed every time he sank his full length inside. From that angle, he was jamming it good against my G-spot and I started to cum. I screamed and gripped the bedspread. "Oh-Oh-Oh-Omigod. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"

And he did. I started clenching and shaking from the force of my orgasm. My cunt muscles closed around him like a vice. He leaned down, put his fingers over my clit and started diddling. "Oh!" I screamed, and the cum started pouring out. "Oh–Oh shit. Omigod. Oh shit!" I started spasming. I was wound tight, coiled like a spring. My toes curled involuntarily. The force of my orgasm surprised him, and he lost his rhythm for a moment while I continued to cum, clenching and arching, slamming against him.

"Fuck me more. Please, keep fucking me." I begged. I was all wet, kneeling in a puddle of cum, but I didn’t care. I wanted it as long as he could give it to me.

It wasn’t going to be much longer. My cunt felt hot and so slippery against his shaft. Jeff straightened his back and jammed it in particularly deep, as deep as it could go. I bent forward and tensed, feeling so full of his good, hard cock. Ride the wave, I thought. I started backing into his pole, tightening my PC muscles. I felt his cock buckle, and he shouted, "Stroke it, stroke it, stroke it!" I felt the glug, glug, glug of the load of cum as he spurted inside.

After a moment, he pulled out. The string of semen stretched from his cock head to my vagina. I fell on the bed heaving, my forehead sweaty, my hands and knees drenched with cum.

"I have to shower," he said after a few minutes. "Then I guess we have to go." He glanced at his watch again.

To hell with what it might or might not have meant for him. It was the fuck of my life.

It was all I could do to leave. Twenty minutes later, I climbed into my Toyota Tercel and drove to the Dairy Queen.

I needed ice cream.

Somehow I managed to order. Butterflies raged inside. Omigod. That was fucking amazing.

The cone came with the chocolate coating still warm. Drops of white fell from the cone into my blouse and trickled between my breasts. I imagined Jeff licking them away with a deft, warm tongue. Shit oh dear.

 I saw Jeff one other time, about two weeks later. I got on the bus and saw him sitting in the very back seat. Talking to one of his co-workers. I sat down in the seat next to him, and I smiled. I had to look distant, like I didn’t know who he was.

After we got on Interstate 5, his friend dozed off. Jeff had his jacket laying casually across his lap. I reached underneath. I worked his zipper down. I loved how my hand perfectly cupped his dick. Neither of us said a word. I jerked him off under the coat. He laid his head against the neck rest and closed his eyes. He opened his mouth when he came, but he didn’t make a sound. I felt his cock jerk in my hand, and the jizz dribbled down like a candle. He looked at me with a crazy grin in his eyes. I wiped my hand on a Kleenex from my sweater pocket and opened my book. We didn’t speak.

Unfortunately, I never saw him again.

>You want to know that the last time I ran my nails down a back it was yours?

That the last time I ached to have sex with a perfect man with muscles that rippled up against me--

I throbbed for you.

You want to know exactly what there is to do to feed the pulse of electricity that runs from my tits to my vagina?

You want to know how to pinch those nipples into submission?

You want to know how to make me sag against you begging for more?

More teeth

More suction

More intensity

You want to tease me ‘til I scream?

You want to know just how to balance your finger against my clit so that it shudders in your hand as I sigh a gutteral unexpressible sound of anguish because

you are the only one I want

the only one I need

the only name I call when I’m in ecstasy

the only one I submit to?

You want exclusive rights to my pussy?

You want to know that when I spread my legs and feel the gush of juices from the ribbons there that these thighs have not been parted since I last opened them for you?

You want to memorize the ripples there like raised ridges of Braille?

You want to cram inside

then feel the thrust of your dick deep within me

the pulse of muscles as I clench my heat around your cock

thrashing on your bed?

You want to work me into a lather, into a sweat, and find your sheets in a puddle on the bed when we are through?

You want to feel the shudder of my orgasm long after you’ve watched me rise to my peak and surrender to the other side?

You want exclusive rights so that our sex is sacred ground?

An entity only to be opened by you?

A unity?

A sanctified ceremony like the dance of Navajo women around the fire when they prayed for rain for corn?

You want to know that the only man I dream of is you, Baby?

The only hands I want touching me are on the ends of your arms

The only body I want pressed against mine as I sleep is yours

You want to be the object of my affection--

My love, my angel, my breathless baby who sighs against me when he comes?

You want to know when I desire you even though it might exhaust you to meet my needs?

You want me to cry your name when I’m in fear

and utter those same syllables when we whisper against one another in the black of night?

You want to tuck me into bed at night

You want to watch me as I sleep?

You want to smooth the strands of hair away from my mouth as I breathe?

You want to find me on your pillow every morning?

You want to love me?

You want to care for me, to bring me chicken soup and ginger ale when I am sick?

You want to cherish me when I am down?

You want to massage Ben Gay on arthritic joints when I am old?

You want to be The One?

Exclusive?

Are you up to it?

Then you’ve got it, Baby.

And I want the same from you.

Satisfying me is a work of love, Babe.

I will write a hundred stories in your name and expect you to read every one of them.

I want a voice that is not afraid to correct me, to comfort me, to call me to be great.

I want gentle hands that will rage against me, caress me, stroke me.

I want a back that will not break under the demands of an honest day of work.

I want a heart that feels passionate love.

I want eyes that call to me at night and take me to places where I have never been.

I want a dick that is not afraid to be jacked while I watch

that will plunge into my shiny crevice

and ejaculate against my cheek bones when I ask it to do so.

I want a partner with integrity who will require me to do what I have promised.

I want emotional support and direction when I ask for it.

I want intelligent conversation that entertains my thoughts, perplexes me,

and a man who demands that I put him first when he requests it.

I want a friend, a lover, a master and a slave.

I want exclusive rights.

trap on, and I am not sure it appeals to me. But she will take my hand. I think about her all week long, hoping nothing comes up to spoil our fun.

After she gets here, I spend a long time eating her pussy, all purple and ridged. I never thought it could be so easy. "Let’s get started." She goes in the room and takes off her clothes. I want to keep her forever! Her clit is small and wants to stay hidden, but I try to push it out with my tongue. I love the way she sighs and calls out. Since that is such a turn-on to me, I have tried to get louder when I play, to be more verbally responsive, but sometimes years of silent-sex-cause-th- kid’s- in-the-next- room plays out and it’s hard for me to verbalize. My husband stays up and kisses her mouth and fingers pert nipples. His dick is still soft. It won’t be for long.

I slip a finger in. I have nails, so I try to be careful. She eases against me, so I know I’m okay. I start to jab her with two fingers, darting down with my mouth to suck on her clit at the same time. I feel that wonderful ridge toward the top of her belly and I stroke that inside of her cunt. She sighs. She’s wonderful to let me do this to her. I am still new enough at being with women that I feel it is such a privilege and I still don’t feel like I know the first thing about what I am doing, I just am fortunate enough to have the same body parts.

I ease another finger in, then another. She is a good girl, she takes them, nails and all. At one point, I moved my hand awkwardly and grazed her deep inside the tender places, and she grimaced, but I adjusted and she grinded against my hand. Yumm! I pushed a little more and–gulp–I was deep inside. Oh my god. Oh thank you god. I am up to my wrist in a woman and she is incredible and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to take her again and again. I feel my own pussy, as wet as it gets, and I ache with excitement. My husband moves behind me and sticks his dick in my cunt and I ride against him, all distracted, my wrist inside my girlfriend, my husband sinking home. I love him for letting me play with girls! He fucks me playfully, his eyes riveted to watching my hand disappear inside the girl on our bed.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" I call out as my girl starts to cum. Her twitching and clenching around my wrist makes me want to cum myself! I give it to her two or three more times, aggressively as I dare, and then as fast as I can, I pull it out. Thwk! I hear the slurp of my hand come out of that tight trap and WHAM the convulsions rock through her abdomen in a way I can’t describe. OMG. I want to do it again. I ease my slippery hand back inside and slunk! slunk! slunk! I give it to her good. Then whap! I pull it out and she twitches and writhes on the bed. I need a dick! My husband is stroking his own next to me as he watches her cum, then I pull my favorite dildo out of the nightstand, lube it up and ease it inside of her. Slurp, slurp, slurp. She raises her pelvis to meet my hand as it holds the rubber toy. I dab my left hand across her clit and tell my husband to hold open her legs. She is cranking up for a third orgasm, and the more we take control of the situation and hold her so and make her take it, the more she seems to get into her space. He holds her thighs apart and I give it to her good, and wham! Another wild-ass climax reels through her body! She cums so hard!

"OK, your turn" I tell him. (Like, make yourself useful, dammit!) I move out of the way and pull my fake dick out of her cunt so she can take the real one. I pull up on the bed and away and start kissing her mouth, licking her neck. "Fuck her, Baby," I urge him. "Fuck her." My own hand finds a place between my legs and I pet my pussy eagerly while I watch.

I know she likes the real penetration more than any toy, and likes the face to face of being with a man more than being with a woman, but there is still an aspect to being with a woman that is distinctively different than being with a man. I stroke her forehead and kiss her with soft kisses. I pinch her taut nipples, and like me, she can take some pressure there, so I twist and she calls out. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Between her legs, I see his big black dick sinking in and out with sharp thrusts. He grabs her legs and pulls her to the edge of the bed where he can get more leverage and give her the fucking she deserves. Oh it is so HOT!

I take matters into my own hands and start tearing myself up. Then, I’m kissing her. My husband moves down to kiss us both, passionately and deep, then sucks lingeringly on my tongue as he pulls up to stand. He holds her like a wheelbarrow, her back on the bed and plows deep into her. She’s almost screaming, she’s so thrilled.

I jam my dildo inside my own cunt and slam it in there good. It’s not going to take much. At this point we are each so into what we are doing, the smells of our satisfaction and sweat are thick in the room. I want to roll over and stand above her face and fuck myself with the toy until I squirt all over her face, but I don’t. I haven’t asked her if she’d be into that, and I’m not taking a chance of ruining the mood. I feel the pressure rise inside my loins just thinking about what I’d like to do to her and then Pop! I pull the dildo out and spray them both as a stream shoots across the bed.

My oh my! We kept at it for another hour. It was midnight when she finally left, and I can’t wait to have her again.

w it.

Now she was certain it was not intended for use as a sex item, but in the context of the rest of the items on the table, Jessie had to take a second look at the battery-operated toothbrush. It looked like it had been opened a few times. The package was held shut by three crooked staples. Jessie picked up the toothbrush, some KY lubricant, and the three pair of thong panties that had captured her attention.

The dressing room had the tacky K-Mart disheveled look to it. As usual, it was unattended. There were hangers for petite bra sets, night gowns, opened packages of panty hose. Jessie stepped into a stall and closed and locked the door. There was a space under the door and a tall mirror. Not really private. The door wasn’t very tall. Any woman with any height at all could come down the hall and peer in at what she was doing. She didn’t mind. In fact, Jessie took off her panties and sat down on the bench seat in the dressing room with her legs wide open. She could see her cunt in the mirror, the frame of dark hair sprouting up since the last time she’d shaved.

She took the warming lubricant and doused her pussy, splashing a lot of the oily lube on the bench seat. Then she carefully removed the battery-operated toothbrush from the crumpled package.

“Whirrrrrr!” She fired up the appliance. She put the vibrating handle right up against her pussy and stretched herself wider with her left hand. She studied the mirror. For a minute, she wondered if it was a two-way mirror and maybe there was an attendant behind it watching. The thought excited her! She stuck the handle of the toothbrush back into her vagina, and then slipped it back out. The bristles were cycling around like cheerleader pompons. She checked them and doused a little more lube on the bristles. Then she touched her clittie with a little pressure, letting the scouring action of the toothbrush totally envelop her clit. Damn! It felt GOOD!

Jessie closed her eyes and let the scrubbing action work all the blood into her clit. She didn’t press hard, just a little, so the bristles pushed everything around, and the vibration penetrated all the way through her ass down to the bench.

Once again, her mind wandered that someone was behind that very mirror, watching her get her groove off....

After a few more moments, Jessie turned the toothbrush around again, and forced the vibrating, fat handle back into her cunt. She rocked her pelvis against it, trying to get her g-spot. She held it right where she wanted it. It wasn’t but a moment longer.....

“Uuunnggggghhh! Oh my God!” The climax eased out of her like she was teasing it from her body. “Yesss!”

Then before anyone could accuse her of washing her hair with Herbal Essence inside the dressing room, Jessie took a stapler out of her purse, and used it to close the toothbrush back into the package. She pulled her stretch pants back on and left the dressing room.

She walked back over to Aisle 10 and placed the lube and the toothbrush back on the table. One of these days, she was going to have to buy that damn thing! She decided that she didn’t really like the panties as much as she originally thought, so she folded them and left them for the next customer.

On the way out of the store, she could still feel the humming between her thighs and she looked around to see if anyone was following her. She caught the eye of some tall black stud helping bag on Checkout Stand 8. Maybe next time, she’d imagine that he’d be the attendant behind the two-way mirror...

s would die if they knew she was interested.

It wasn’t even daylight yet. He arrived at his job at 4:30 a.m. She walked from the bus to The Company, crossing city streets, into the industrial end of town. She doubted she was going to be able to go through with what she’d imagined all night long. She’d barely slept a wink, thinking of how badly she wanted to capture his imagination, how she wanted to use those black panties to turn him on so much he would obsess about her all day long.

Sure enough, she found him there in the yard, sorting clutter from recycling bins into manageable piles. Gary, the driver of the forklift paused what he was doing to turn and say hello as she approached. He was always so polite, so sweet to her. He already had a streak of black grease across the back of his right hand. One of the things she was drawn to about him was that he worked so damned hard.

She took the renegade panties out of her pocket and placed them next to his hand on his knee. "Here," she said abruptly.

He took them, surprised. He glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. They were simple black satin panties. Somehow he had lived all his life and no woman had ever walked up to him and tossed her panties at him in a parking lot before. He gave her a look.

He called her 'Trouble' for a reason.

She had never presented him with panties before. This was an alluring twist.

A black flatbed tractor trailer pulled into the lot. "He needs me to load him. Hang on, okay?" He put the forklift into gear and put her panties into his coverall pocket.

"Wait!" she called over the sound of the motor. "Give those back. I might need them later."

"Does this mean you’re not wearing any?" He asked.

"That's exactly what it means."

"You are Trouble." He grinned slyly.

She snatched the panties back and slid them into her own pocket. She turned on her heel and walked away. Her heels clicked on the pavement and she knew he was watching her. She ducked into the shadows against the back of the lot, the walls covered with graffiti, where he went sometimes to smoke pot.

The sun was starting to rise. The pink of the sky was streaking off into blues and translucent grey patches. She stood behind a huge scrap container, surrounded by smaller, waist high bins full of sorted metals, and waited.

It took awhile for him to load the flatbed. The semi driver got out and started tightening straps against the crates on his load. The forklift turned and Gary came back against the wall to find her.

"What the hell’re you up to? I know you have something in mind."

"I always have something in mind," she assured him with a quick smile. "But this time you can tell what it is."

He got off the lift and took her face in his hands and kissed her hard. She pressed up against him. She loved the smell of his hard labor caught in the folds of the denim. His hands slid down her body and her hands crept inside his clothes. Under her jumper, he discovered that the stockings she wore were held up by suspenders, and he grabbed her bare ass. He kissed her neck and started to lift her to hold her against him.

"Don't pick me up." She protested, pleased nonetheless. She was too heavy, and he’d been complaining earlier in the week. "Your back..." she reminded him.

"I don't give a shit about my back." His hands were all over her, exploring and touching soft skin. "Can we do it right here?" He asked, breathlessly.

"You tell me where." She said, silently daring herself to go through with this crazy idea. "It's getting light though. You sure this is a good idea?"

"You already got me hard. I don't really give a fuck."

They were in the far end of the parking lot. There was a wire mesh fence between them and another warehouse yard. There were shipping containers stacked up higher than their heads, but anyone coming to look for his forklift would find him.

His radio squawked, calling loudly. "Gary and Don! Come to the front office." He ignored the dispatcher and kissed her again, his hands leaving smudges of oil on her pale chin.

Oh yes, he knew better. But there was something about her that made him lose track of being sensible.

He lowered his zipper. She knelt in front of him. She felt gravel dig into her pretty knees. What if she tore her stockings? How could she explain it at work? She pulled him deep inside her mouth. He was absolutely rock hard and she loved it. She was sucking a guy’s cock right there in the parking lot! She couldn’t believe her audacity!

His dick was long, but narrow. She worked it back into her throat. She started breathing through her nose. She inhaled the "bad boy" smell of pot that he carried in his pocket.

"That's not what I had in mind," he protested after a minute or two.

"Where then?" she said, pulling off him, breathless, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

His dick sprang up and hit her in the face. He was so hard, so turned on! She wasn’t used to having this effect on men. She was always taken for granted, the little office gal who would fetch coffee, make copies, or run to the store to save someone else in The Company from taking time away from their more important task. She was always That Girl, the one everyone liked, who wasn’t quite threatening enough to back stab.

"Can you sit there?" He motioned and took her hand. He lifted her up on one of the waist high containers. Again, she struggled against having him lift her, but it wasn't a real slick move for her to hop to a level where he could enter her. He unzipped his coveralls and peeled back a layer of his clothes. Just enough to get to what he wanted. He opened her legs.

She looked around her, a little disoriented. It was totally daylight! This had to absolutely be the fastest it had ever gone from dull grey shadows to a bright, sunshiny morning.

"Well I absolutely have never done this before," she said, timid, but excited.

"Me neither."

"And right here in the company parking lot..."

"I can’t help it. You’re too fucking hot."

She could hardly believe her ears, could hardly believe she was saying the words and going through with her thoughts that was allowing this to take place. What if the semi driver found something wrong with the load and needed him? What if he’d noticed her stepping back into the yard and came to find out what was going on? The thought of her being seen with the forklift driver, all gritty with sweat and motor oil, totally turned her on. The thought of someone seeing her, her bare butt perched against the grit of the metal crate while he fucked her, well it made her crazy to think that she was actually going through with it, doing it right there in the yard.

What if the dispatcher comes looking for him?

"I can't wait," Gary whispered, begging. "You have to help me." He was holding her from falling off the container and he couldn't move his hands to steer his rock-hard dick between her thighs. She guided him, then moved her hand back to clutch the side. Somehow, she perched on the tiny edge of the container bracing herself as he slammed his seven inches deep inside of her. His breath was ragged as he sank into her, and she was half aware of the fullness inside her, and half aware that she was going to slip off and land in a big greasy puddle, should she lose her grip. She had to hold it together. She couldn’t go to work if she ended up in the grease! It was all so spontaneous, and so precarious. It made her so fucking wet to know that he just looked at her panties and lost control... Now he had her up on the corner of a great steel container and was ramming her to beat the band. Oh my God. The corner of the metal container dug uncomfortably into her leg, but she didn’t care. It was too fucking wild that he was just doing her, right there, right where anyone walking over to find him could see.

If that happened, everyone in The Company would know by noon. Wasn’t he thinking about what he was doing? This was nuts!

She was torn. The good girl part of her was totally mortified, totally wanted to jump down off the corner of the container, pull herself together and go have coffee with the office girls upstairs. What if someone looked down out of one of the windows to see? Everyone would know it was her, they all could recognize her jumper. One morning, she’d proudly brought it into work to show it off. It was one-of-a-kind. She felt a knot of panic bubble in her stomach. Her wild thoughts added to the thrill.

"I like this," he said. The straggled words got lost somewhere in her hair. His eyes were slightly out of focus, he was lost inside himself inside his head.

He picked up the pace, thrusting intently. She felt the chill of the metal under her ass. She clutched at the edges of the box, hoping she wouldn’t fall off. His eyes closed. The good girl side of her demanded that he hurry.

"I’m gonna come!"

Oh my God, what if somebody heard him? Frantically, she glanced around, certain that he’d been back here too long and certainly his foreman was going to come find him.

The radio receiver on his forklift whistled and squawked. "You there, Gary? Quit fuckin’ ignoring me, Man."

She felt his muscles tighten as he jammed himself in deeper. He grunted and pumped her full of creamy jizz. He had to catch her as she almost lost her balance and tumbled into a pile of used car parts.

Not that it mattered, but she couldn’t cum. Not just then. The whole situation totally thrilled her, beyond her wildest dreams, but she spent the whole time frozen, terrified that someone was going to find her there, being fucked by the forklift driver. Right in the yard. Right there at work! Oh, the girls in The Company would have a complete fit if they found out. She would lose all credibility. "What a whore she is," they would all whisper in their most vindictive voices.

She giggled to think of the looks on their faces.

He backed away from her, his dick still visible, to answer his foreman on the radio. "Yah, I’ll be right there. I was taking a leak."

A leak?

Moments later, she hopped off the edge of the container and part of his load spattered down on the black pavement. ‘Evidence!’ she thought. She wanted to bend over and wipe it up. But then she thought, ‘Hell, there’s EVIDENCE!! He just fucked me in the yard, up there on a container, and there’s a wad of evidence that it happened.’

It thrilled her to think that maybe some day there’d be one of those uptight women from The Company prancing across the pavement, stepping right into their combined juices-- right there in the parking lot--on the way to an all too-expensive car as she went on to climb the corporate ladder.

Upstairs in the bathroom, she rinsed off, still not quite believing that she’d thrown all caution to the wind. She ducked into a stall and started fucking herself with her middle finger. It would only take a minute to cum, she was so hot from thinking about what they’d just done. It made her crazy with lust to think of his jizz seeping out of her twat, lubricating everything.

Then she thought about his foreman, Mike. He might have just stumbled upon them, fucking in the yard. What would he have done? Would he have pulled his own dong out of his pants and started jacking it right there? Would he have wanted to join in? Or would he have taken them both, half-dressed and leaking with cum, into the front office to talk to The Boss? That would have been a disaster. The end of her career. Over. Kaput. All over a little lust in the sunrise. Oh she was so turned on by the idea of being such a horrid slut that she had to be turned in to The Boss! What a scolding she would deserve, such a bad, bad girl.

Her body rocked as she came on the toilet.

She teased herself with thoughts of how embarrassed everyone would be, how horrified that it had happened to The Company. So mortified that she could bring it all to an end with a simple pair of black, satin panties.

She came a second time. She was sure she could cum again. She was sure of it.

Then she glanced at her watch. Oh, shit!

She stood and wiped herself with a Kleenex. She patted her dress and wiped a streak of oil off her cheek. She stepped into black satin panties and pulled them on over crotchless stockings.

Time to start work.

 

Author’s Note: If you liked this story, you might also check out Diary of a Nympho, another story where I got some at work one day.

Thanks in advance for any comments. I don’t get any money to take chances and post my stories here; your feedback is my reward.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But then what else was he supposed to say? ‘Thank you,’ he mouthed silently, and waved to her as he backed the lift out from their hiding place and chugged across the lot to the office.

I don't think either of us would end up losers under the circumstances. The first hand isn't anything special. I have a pair of fours. You have a pair of jacks. I pull my arms inside my tank top and pull my bra off. I drop it on the pavement of the parking lot. Down in town, that should merit some interesting speculation. I slip into my leather jacket, and grab the knapsack of lunch.

You have some vague plan of finding an out-of-the-way road to follow. Frankly, I don't care if we end up making love on a picnic table in the state park. I don't feel particularly discreet today. I climb behind you on your bike, and I am going to enjoy holding you. Today you are Mine.

You start out of town looking for the kind of road that will wind off into nowhere. Five miles later, we stop to deal the hand of poker. I have three sevens. You have two kings. I take off your belt and put it into the knapsack.

The road we are on doesn't really look very promising, so you double back and we head back to a side road that we had passed a mile or so back. At five miles, you stop again, and we play another hand of poker. Your full house beats my pair of aces, so I ask you what you want me to take off.

You dare me to go ahead and take off my jeans. I pull them off and fold them into the knapsack. At this point, I am wearing my shoes and socks, my tank top and leather jacket, and some very skimpy, wet, satin panties.

Fifteen miles later, the paved road turns into a gravel road. We are winding along a valley dotted with farmhouses. I have to put my jacket over my legs so the gravel spitting up from the road doesn't tear me up. I have lost my shoes and socks and you’ve lost your shirt. When I get off the leather seat to deal with the next poker hand, I leave a streak of wetness which dries quickly in the sun. I lose another hand of poker, and relinquish my jacket. We find and follow a dirt road that looks like it will take us back into a wooded area on a hill. At two miles, you stop the bike by a stream and deal another hand of cards.

I am not a good card player, but then I'm not trying to be. I manage to find a pair, but you have four sixes (cheater?), so I slide my panties off. Before getting back on the bike, however, I pull off my tank top and wet it in the icy water of the creek. When I slip it back over my head, my nipples spring out and the soaked material hugs my breasts. I press up against you, but my shirt is very cold against your skin, and you pull away. I begin licking and tasting the back of your neck. We're not going very fast anymore.

I rock my pelvis back and forth on the seat slowly, loving the way the vibrations pulse through my body. I could come on the motorcycle, but I know that if I wait, it will be better, more complete. I reach around you and unfasten your pants. Your penis is full and hard, and I take it into my hand

and trace little circles on the head with my thumb. The cold from my shirt sends chills up your back. My legs are pressed up yours. I want to make love to you desperately.

The road ducks down into a hollow and you pull off into a ditch, where you let the bike idle. I start to get off, but you spin me around on the seat, and position me so that you can go down on me. I shudder as the sensations roll though my body, and it doesn't take me but a minute to come. You kiss me hard, after I am through, and hold my hips to guide yourself inside me.

However, you still have your jeans on, and the bike dies. You can't go in as far as either of us would like you to go. I hold you between my legs and grip you hard, for just the feeling of having the tip of you inside me brings me to another climax. You hold me and kiss me and laugh a little,

saying that you want to watch me come some more, but if we are going to do this right, we are going to have to get off the bike.

You take care of the bike, and I slip down off the motorcycle as you do that, then watch as you take off your pants. You peel off my wet top and lower me to the ground. The air feels sudden and silent after the drone of the bike, and the weeds and grasses are soft with the newness of Spring. The hollow that we are in arches my back slightly, and in a moment, you push yourself back into my wetness and watch me come again and again. You pull away to watch, still hard, and I roll over onto my stomach. You grip my hips, pulling them up, and push into me again and again, forcefully. I start to climax again and you hold me against you so you can feel my rhythm with me. You play me some more, and when I am spent, you ask me take you inside of my mouth. I can taste my tangy self all over you and smell your smell and I turn and use the angle of my throat to take you all the way inside.

After a few moments, I want you inside of me again, so I straddle you and lower myself down on you, feeling every inch as you stretch inside. I ride you until I come and then use my hand to spread the wetness all over me, up and back. I pull up and off of you, turn so that I am facing your

feet and sit down on your cock, catching my breath as you glide suddenly into my ass.

I feel your hands holding my hips and I let the tension tell me how quickly you want me to move, once I have relaxed and can take you there. I follow your lead and quicken the pace until you arch up and push yourself deeply inside of me as you come. Then I lay back on your chest and feel the rising and falling of your body as you breathe.

I just want to touch you and taste your skin and listen to your stories. Afterwards, we'll share lunch and drink a few beers and maybe, before it gets much colder, you will let me take you home and we can shower. I will take you inside of my mouth under the water and feel you harden once again so we can and do it some more.

Author’s Note: If you liked this story, you might also like my other stories, Mt. Rainier, or Painting You.

nd getting out of LA traffic, and down the Grapevine, well-- that stretch is a workout. There’s a 6% grade. The California Highway Patrol has a scale, police every few miles, and the posted speed limit is as slow as 35 mph for tractor trailers. At the bottom of the hill, nestled in some grape fields, there’s a little town called Grapevine, so the whole winding way–pretty much from Las Angeles to Wheeler Ridge--is known as The Grapevine. It’s a treacherous section of I-5, and all the truckers talk about it.

We were at least two hours late, and now I was supposed to be able to flip a switch in my neck and fall into a dead sleep. It wasn’t going to happen. I was pretty pissed that our schedule was wrecked. I hadn’t had any dick in awhile, and was about to climb the walls, I was so fucking horny. But we had a deadline, and we weren’t going to make it unless we kicked ass the whole way. I knew I needed to cum or I wasn’t going to get any sleep at all. In the past I had begged and pleaded with my husband to stop the damn truck, but what we both learned about that experience was that we’re both terribly stubborn. When he gets on a roll, he doesn’t want to stop. Even for sex. It takes him over an hour to come--he just doesn’t do quickies. He just doesn’t. Stopping for an hour of sex was out of the question, and I knew it.

Now, I squirt when I cum, so I keep these rubber mats in the truck. They’re white, layered in flannel like you’d put in the bottom of a crib, and I keep one on the mattress. I got up on my mat and I pulled out a bottle of water and a washcloth. I pulled off my shirt and start giving myself a little sponge bath. My husband was driving, but he glanced back, saw me pretty much naked and said, "Woman, what the hell are you doing? We’re in the middle of traffic."

Of course we were, we were always in the middle of traffic-- and I had about had it with this crappy trucking traffic. He could tell by the look on my face that I was declaring mutiny. He decided not to mess with me. Instead, I could see the little visor being pulled down–he has a square mirror on the back. He aimed the mirror right at me so he could watch traffic and me at the same time.

Before I continue, this is not a safe driving story. I’m not advocating anyone try this. That being said, this is about the favorite sexual experience we’ve ever had. I’d fucking had it with the truck rolling 24 hours a day, I was so horny. I was too tired, too crabby, and about to take matters into my own hands.

The sun was setting. I was on the bed with my boobs all out, sponging off. I spread shaving cream over my crotch with my legs wide open. I shaved myself nice and smooth. My husband’s a watcher, so he’s got his eyes pretty much on as much of the action as he can while still driving. When it finally got dark enough, I scooted up to the front seat and threw the mat down on the seat and started masturbating.

He’d gotten me a dildo as a gift when we got into the truck together but I hadn’t had too much of a chance to play with it. It had a great size and shape, about eight thick inches, and what made it different than the other ones I had was that it had a suction cup on the end. I started jacking myself off with it, and I was looking around for a place to stick the suction cup. I was eyeballing the gearshift because I had often fantasized about what it would feel like vibrating against my clit. Husband read my mind. He covered the gearshift with his hand and said, "Don’t even think about it."

I told him he was a spoilsport, and decided I could try sticking it to the console of the truck. The glove compartment was in front of the passenger seat, then there’s a section that juts out at an angle, there’s the vents for the air conditioning there, otherwise it’s pretty blank. I smacked the dildo suction cup on the side of that part of the console. I arched my back up from the seat and I started fucking the dildo stuck to the panel there. The dildo was vibrating all over the place with the truck’s constant vibration. The air from the vent was blowing on my pussy. OMG, it was bliss!

Husband was saying "You go, girl." He flipped on the light that lights the interior, under the console. It’s a red light, and I know he only flipped it on so he could see better. It makes my skin glow all red--I’m thinking–DAMN! Red Light District!--I’m hitting my groove.

"Ungh, ungh, ungh," I sigh with each thrust.

I’ve got one foot up on the handle by the window, and the other leg spread all the way open with my foot braced behind his seat. I’m screwing away and it’s dark, but not pitch black. With the red light glowing, it’s making me crazy to think that there might be other drivers in other trucks noticing what’s going on in our truck. It was definitely feeding into my exhibitionist tendencies! At least, I was performing for My Man. What I really want to do was to make him get crazy, make him stop the truck and give me some dick.

Slam!-- the dildo crashed to the floor. Now I don’t know about anyone else, but anything that hits the floor of the truck is off-limits to going back into a body. We do try to keep our truck tidy, but in and out of it all day with boots and dust, well-- hair and grit and cum don’t mix. So I go "Oh crap!" and I’m looking for something else to shove into my pussy. I grabbed the bottle of lube and shoved it inside my pussy. I started jamming on it. I squirmed all into the aisle.

Hubby said, "Hey, bring that on over here."

The truck started lugging as he slowed down to shift. He had to pay attention to the road. He reached up for some medical gloves that we keep in the pouch above his visor. He likes to stay clean and latex gloves come in handy for pulling dead birds out of the grill, or unscrewing the cap off the stinky diesel tanks. I scootched my ass over the side of the seat and had my legs spread as wide as they would go. I braced my foot up on the console and pushed my hip against the gear shift. My whole pelvis vibrated. He slopped lube all over my pussy until it was slick and smooth and he slipped on the medical glove. I was grinding against his hand. He kept rubbing my clit and I was all over the place. I started begging, "Oh Fuck me Fuck me Fuck me." Then wham! --he shoved his entire hand up inside my cunt. Oh my god. He’d fisted me before--that’s one of the reasons we kept the gloves in the truck--but I couldn’t believe he could fit his whole hand up inside of me like that while we were driving. Jesus Christ! I rocked around and adjusted to the size of his hand and I started riding him. He was working me over. Slamming it to me. He held the back of his hand vibrating on the back of my cunt. I was going crazy. He was still driving, still keeping his eyes on the road, but one of his hands was jammed up inside me. It was awesome. I felt so full. I started moaning and coming and squirting all over the place. He was feeling me clench and pulse against his arm, and then he would thrust it in again.

Talk about absolute insanity!

Of course, I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on outside the truck until he said, "Shit! I can’t believe it. I just fisted you all the way down the Grapevine."

give up alcohol. But being that I might really be a sex addict, I’m NOT going to give up sex. I swear that to you right now. What I did decide to do was to write down my sexual encounters to determine whether I think there might be something I should do about it. So I got this little notebook and now I am going to tell all. You decide.

Yes, I did fuck Jeff on the picnic table, but it’s not like I had to twist his fucking arm. It was more like I had to unzip his jeans, take his rock hard dick into my mouth and suck the thing down my throat. I think the "concerned wife" bitch needs to evaluate why her dear hubby would stick it in a stranger’s cunt. But he managed, and I loved it and I told him that he could have a piece of it anytime.

You see, I work at an electrical supply house. All day long, there’s contractors and electricians coming in and ordering things like "female plugs" and "nipples" and coax cable. I can’t help it if most of these things have slang names that remind everyone of body parts and sexual encounters. So when I put together an order, sometimes I can’t help it if I strut a little, and act helpless when it comes to picking up 40 lbs. of pipe. Since I’ve had this job, I’ve lost a good deal of weight, and the body just keeps getting better and better. I’ve always been 5'4" tall, with brassy red ringlets and a few freckles spattered across my nose, but now I’m a lean, mean 115 pounds, and the men keep noticing.

So is "sex addict" the most recent term for "nympho?" Is it more politically correct? Does it apply to me and not to her husband? Is this one of those double standard things, and what’s good for the gander is not good for the goose?? I wondered if she made her husband, dear Jeff, endure her nagging until he also looked through those websites, or did the sex addiction label just apply to me?

I can’t help it. When the guys start looking at me while I’m carrying a Westinghouse breaker box out to put in the back of a utility pickup and my jeans are tight and my shirt is clinging and my 34C’s are swinging a little. (I don’t know why the boobies didn’t shrink down with the rest of me. Now I have a large set of tits, and a trim waist and hips.) Some of my clothes are a little sloppy, so the necks of my shirts slip down over one shoulder, showing a sexy strap, or no strap at all. There’s never women who come into our store, except maybe once in awhile to settle a contractor’s bill, so nobody really minds if my boobs sway a little while I’m working.

My boss is unhappily married, but he’s made it clear he’s off-limits. It’s crazy, but when he found out how easy I am, he hired his 62 year old father to work in my office! I call his father Old Guy, which is only a little more respectful than what he should be called: Old Fart. Old Guy tells me about some of the old porno movies, his favorite star is Ginger Lynn. I think he was trying to impress me.

The Old Guy started off in my office by giving me a tall stool to sit on, which I love, but when I balance on the small seat surface and throw my feet up on the metal bar--since there’s no back to the chair--his tongue practically falls out of his mouth. Sometimes he just sits and stares at my ass. He’s spent hours listening to me flirt on the phone! Some of the guys are legitimate love interests, and others are just for fun. Old Guy can’t help it. He’s falling all over himself trying to figure out how to get into these pants he loves to look at so much. I don’t know quite what to do about it. I mean, on the one hand, I’m not a purposeful tease (not unless that’s all the guy wants) but I’m just not attracted to Old Guy. He’s learned some of my codes that I use to ask my "friends" if we can meet for lunch. One thing I say to Jeff is "You think it’s going to rain today?" If he says "yes," then we’re on for lunch. If he says "no" then I know he’s too busy to fit me in. One time I was standing in the store and I asked Jeff if he thought it was going to rain. Jeff said he wasn’t sure. Old guy said, "if you ask me, I’d think it was going to be a torrential downpour with hail and thunderclouds." Of course, outside there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but I knew my code had been broken.

September 5, 2000

Dear Diary,

Today, I met Jeff for "lunch." He has a van, and we went in the back, pulled into a deserted parking lot and went at it. Jeff’s a good fuck. For one thing, he looks like Tom Selleck, with the black hair and mustache and I love looking at his hot bod. He works outside all day, so he has a gorgeous tan and sleek muscles. He’s forty, and I guess his wife’s stopped giving it up to him the way he likes. I thought about what it must be like to fuck someone who thinks that instead of you having a healthy sexual appetite, she frets that it’s an obsession.

I think with Jeff, it’s more that he used to fuck a different girl every night. He’s so handsome that he can pick up anyone at a bar and back in the eighties, and that’s exactly what he did. Meeting me makes him remember the good ole days and though he loves the wife and being married with children, he still craves a good hot spontaneous fuck.

But then who doesn’t? In the parking lot, I was teasing Brian–he’s one of the guys with the "I can’t I’m married" defenses, "but I don’t mind thinking about it." So I took some equipment out to his pickup and he got in. I was leaning over the door, just talking and he said he said he didn’t believe I was naked underneath my dress. I was already feeling too horny. My tryst with Jeff had lubricated my pussy and I had juices dripping out of my cunt. I couldn’t do anything without inhaling the strong smell of sex when I moved. When Brian sat there all smug and married in his truck, looking at me and calling me a liar, I just took it as a challenge. Aha! I’d show him! I was wearing one of those wraparound dresses, and it fastened with an enormous button on my left hip.

"You don’t think I’m telling the truth?"

"Put your money where your mouth is."

And before he could choke back those words, I unfastened the button and held the dress wide open, like a pervert in a raincoat. You believe me now?

My nipples were standing at attention. I dropped the sides of my dress and pinched my nipples with both hands, the deep red tips peeking out between thumbs and forefingers. I traced a circle around my nipples, giving him a good view of my sweet 34-24-35 figure. Too bad you don’t want any of this. Have a good time tonight with your wife.

I waved bye-bye as he pulled out of the parking lot and blew him a kiss. It only takes a minute to hook the front of my dress back together, one side fastens inside, the front overlaps and fastens on the other side. I looked up, and Old Guy was standing out in the yard. He was over by the copper pipes, gawking, and he’d seen the whole thing! I gave him a little wave and smiled. What else could I do? I mean, he didn’t do anything for me, he didn’t turn me on at all, but it didn’t hurt to give him a little thrill, did it? I wondered what he thought of me.

Hell, what was I thinking?

September 12, 2000

Dear Diary,

You ever think about addiction? All the places there could be addiction going on, the access is limited to people over age 18. There’s no children who are supposed to witness us adults being addicted or succumbing to an addiction. There are age limits for bars, liquor stores, purchasing cigarettes, strip clubs, adult shops, and gambling casinos. So if I’m addicted, I guess I have to be over 18, which I am, but of course, I haven’t always been. And I’ve been rubbing on this thing for years, craving that zing of a release, playing with the pace and the intensity, trying to get a bigger and better zing to my orgasm. So am I addicted? Or do you do that too? I mean, if I’m going to get off, I want to get off satisfactorily. No biblical "it’s only for procreation" kind of orgasm for me, thank you very much. I’ll be right there with any other selfish hedonists, because when I want to cum and I want to cum with bells on. And I hope you do too. I hope when you get off, you have an awesome time. I want all these guys I see to get off, with no guilt, with no reservations...and frequently. I like to lay in my apartment at night, covers thrown off, stroking my pussy to the max, and I love to get off thinking about them getting off on thinking about me. So I flirt. I tease and yes, I seduce. What a bad girl am I.

Chris and Kelly were here this morning. They’re Jeff’s apprentices, and he doesn’t let them come in the store by themselves too often, (I guess he doesn’t trust them unsupervised-hee hee) but they were in here around 8:30 this morning, getting a forgotten ceiling fan, and a light switch plate. They came in, got what they needed and when they told me to put it on the account-- I couldn’t help it--all I saw was a threesome waiting to happen. They are such hotties! They’re in their early twenties, and yes, I think Chris has a steady girl, but oh I don’t want to keep them. I just want to play with them a little while. You think I could snare them into my little trap? I scribbled on a pad of paper, "I really really want to suck your cock right now." I followed them out to the pickup and tucked the paper into Kelly’s shirt pocket. I wasn’t wearing any panties, and I flipped up the back of my skirt to make sure they knew.

I was stunned by my gall. But then, when you think about it, it was perfect. Like what’s Jeff going to do if he finds out? Fire them? He was fucking me too! And he’d fucked so many gals back in the eighties, it would be terribly hypocritical of him to get jealous.

Sure enough. There was a phone call before lunch. Old Guy was in my office, listening and drooling as usual. I sat there and whispered to Kelly on the phone, and yes, I knew Old Guy was hanging on my every syllable, then I thought I’d give him a little thrill. I flipped up my skirt in his full view and started masturbating while I was on the phone with Kelly. "I’m wet, Man," I said, sort of to both of them, and I watched Old Guy to see if he could keep his composure. Sure enough, Kelly asked me to come to their job site for lunch, and Old Guy shoved his hand into his pocket and started pushing his dick out of an uncomfortable spot. I hung up the phone, and said, "You want to see my hot, hot cunt?"

Old Guy was kind of breathy. I licked my finger off, sucking off the tangy taste, and I pulled my slit open so I could laborously insert it up to the second knuckle. I pulled it out and showed it to him, all slick with my juices. "Hmmmm. Smell." I teased, extending my finger to him. Old Guy leaned in to smell it, and he even closed his eyes as he breathed in my scent. I thought he was going to dribble all over the table.

"Take it easy," I told Old Guy. "I guess I’d better go to the bathroom and take care of this."

"I’d sure like to go in and watch." He sounded a little too sincere. Pathetic!

I giggled. "Maybe someday. But not right now."

I sashayed out of the office. My four inch heels crisscrossed in front of me. I could well imagine the twitch in his trousers as I swished my skirt back and forth on the way out the door.

I went into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and doubled up with laughter. Old Guy was too easy a mark.

Then I opened my legs. My clit jutted out of my inner folds like the eraser on a number two pencil. I tugged on it as I inserted that same finger I let Old Guy smell--then two--into my cunt, and I started working it. I like to orgasm and pee at the same time. I’m a squirter anyway, but when I already have to pee, sometimes it’s nice to just bring myself to the brink, then let the pee flow down, the heat enveloping my hand. I was still on the clock, so I didn’t want to take too much time getting off, besides I was meeting Kelly and Chris for lunch. I just wanted to take the edge off. Oh, and I wanted to make sure Old Guy was totally fantasizing how I was jacking off in the bathroom. He wants to see. How cute! I’ll bet he’d like to see.

I squirted golden fluids into the toilet, watched the golden stream hit the water and hang in a yellow cloud until the color dissipated. I washed my hands, and cupped my hand under the flow of water and swished it on my pussy. I rinsed my hand twice, dried with paper towels, then went back to finish my work on the weekly order. I worked with Old Guy on the store’s inventory.

I didn’t go back into the office until after I collected a cup of coffee. I set the coffee down in front of Old Guy. "I put a little cream in it for you." He thought I must have squirted some cum into the cup for him, and he practically wolfed it down.

I can’t wait till lunch!

September 13, 2000

At lunch, I flew down the road in my car. Chris and Kelly met me in front of the house they were doing the finishing work on. It was lovely. Of course, all the colors of the house were neutral, beiges, whites, creams, and taupes. The floor was a beautiful hardwood, then a lovely cream low pile rug. I barely walked into the house when Kelly pulled up the back of my skirt.

"Nice ass," he said.

"Thank you." I turned and smiled. I winked at Chris. "You guys are thinking what I’m thinking right?"

They lowered their zippers and their dicks sprang out at me. I knelt down and took them both in my hands. "Umm. Wonder what we can figure out to do with these?"

There wasn’t any furniture in the house, of course, but the boys threw my skirt up and Chris stuck it in my mouth. I leaned over and Kelly shoved it in my cunt. I gasped as he moved his full length inside of me. Oh my goodness! His dick was a delight. I could feel that it was nice and fat, and it went in deeper than I was accustomed to. It hit so deep inside me, and--I know this is a weird statement--but I felt like I was being stirred.

"Give it to me, Baby." Kelly grunted as I rocked my ass back against him. I couldn’t say anything because Chris’ cock was filling up my face. I held my mouth open and he shoved his dick into my mouth, even jamming it down my throat. I gasped and he pulled out, his bulging dick thick with strings of mucus. I held my mouth open as wide as I could, and he jammed it in again. "I’m gonna fuck your pretty mouth, ‘kay?"

I nodded, batted my hazel eyes, and looked up at his face. He was only 22, and he brushed strands of hair out of his face. Kelly was watching me take Chris’ lean and long cock. Behind me, he was thrusting in and out, trying to match the rhythm Chris was using to fuck my face. Chris was sliding it way back in my throat. I was pleased I could take it so deep. I mean, I was good at giving head, but sometimes I couldn’t completely take the big ones. Chris was at least nine inches long! It thrilled Kelly to watch it slide in, because after watching another minute, he said, "Let me have some of that, Man."

They spun me around, and Chris was in my pussy, Kelly in my mouth. Kelly’s dick was thicker than Chris’s, so he pressed the heel of his hand on my forehead to hold my mouth open even wider, and he slammed it in deep. His dick went past my tongue, into that tight place in my throat, and yes, I choked. I gagged on him. He held my head and shoved deeper. My reflexes were fighting to keep him out of that vulnerable spot, but he was fighting me just as hard to get it in. When I gagged the second time, I must have opened up a little wider, and sure enough, his thick long pole slipped past the gag reflex into that softer space deep in my throat, and Kelly moaned, feeling the closeness of my throat muscles so tight around the sensitive head.

I thought he was going to lose it right there, but he held his own. He stopped moving for a moment, allowing my throat to grow accustomed to him inside my throat, and Chris double-timed me from the back. I started crying out with my first climax, but my screams were mostly muffled by the huge cock that was inside my mouth. On my knees, I reached between my legs and pinched the head of my clit. My orgasm was right there. I stroked my clit a few times. Chris was hitting my G-spot perfectly, pulling out between thrusts, then banging it in, hitting my spot right on the head. What a great fuck these guys were!

I caught most of my fluids in my hand, but some of them splashed out on the light-colored carpet. Oh shit! In my own wet little way, I christened the new house! I really started getting off after that, thinking about how sterile a new home was supposed to be, and how hot my fucking cunt was--spraying all over the new carpeting!

Kelly wanted a piece of my ass, so he motioned to Chris. "My turn." They switched places again, but Kelly used that thick, slobbery cock to slide right into my asshole. Chris got down on his back and slid under me, his cock bobbing with excitement. I held my ass up so Kelly could fuck it, and on the carpet below me, Chris stroked himself while he watched the action, giving me a minute to catch my breath. Kelly was about to come, so he pulled off, "Oh, Baby!" and flicked the side of his dick real hard with his forefingers, trying to keep himself from cumming.

I was still soaking, and Chris was right beneath me. I leaned forward and kissed his mouth. He tasted a little like chewing tobacco. I straddled him and with my feet flat on the floor, I started bobbing up and down on his beautiful dick. Kelly must not have been able to see everything he wanted to see (Men are so visual!) So we paused for a minute while he unzipped my skirt and pulled it up and over my head. Then I tossed off my top, and sat naked on Chris’s awesome hard cock and worked it. Kelly wanted to help out. He stuck a finger up my ass, and my sphincter muscles quickly flinched around it. I was rubbing on my clit, and it wasn’t long. I shrieked, and quivered, the orgasm washing over me like the wind through a kite. Kelly grabbed his dick and I opened my mouth, red lipstick lining my white perfect teeth. He jacked it twice while I was twitching and cumming all over Chris’ lap, and thick, creamy cum spurted all over my face. I slurped at it with my tongue, and what I couldn’t reach, Chris wiped up with his finger and put it into my mouth. As I sucked Kelly’s cum off Chris’ finger, Chris cried out and I could feel his lean dick flinch inside of me as he came.

My lunch break was past being over. I pulled on my clothes and ran out to my car. I zipped back to work and rushed back to my computer. My cunt was still throbbing. I really wished I had a little time to get off a little more. Like I said, if I’m gonna come, I want to come like a superstar. I think the boss was out for the afternoon. I remember that someone collected him for a round of golf. Whew! I was going to get away with coming back from lunch late.

After I perched on my stool in front of my computer, I opened my legs a little to let the air dry me off a little. The pungent, thick smell of sex was heavy in the office. It felt glorious. I always felt so delectable after sex, smells or not, and it was going to keep me aroused all afternoon. I didn’t know where anyone else was. Old Guy must be late coming back from lunch. I smiled. He was probably in his car, jacking off to the thought of my threesome with Kelly and Chris. He probably wished he was a young stud that could stick his thing inside my wet snatch.

Omigod! All of a sudden, I sat bolt upright. I felt a face between my legs and someone was sucking off that thick cum, sucking off the cream left by the two young studs. I glanced down and started laughing. Sure enough, Old Guy was between my pretty thighs, sucking off my juices, sticking a thick tongue into my vagina to slurp up the jizz.

"Oooh, thank you." I said. "Just what I needed." I wasn’t attracted to him in particular, but I was so fucking horny and I did want all that sex juice cleaned up.

Old Guy lapped and lapped at my sweet pussy. I don’t know how he fit under the desk–he had to be so cramped!--and I didn’t care. I spread my legs open so he could stick his willing tongue between my purplish pussy lips, still engorged with blood, and I rocked into his face, allowing his tongue to probe me deeper.

"You want to hear about my lunch?" I asked Old Guy.

"I’d love to hear about it. Did you fuck both of them?"

"Uh-huh."

"Did you have a threesome, or did they take turns?"

"It was a threesome." I said. "Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, and I’ll tell you all about it."

Our afternoons at the electrical supply house were mostly quiet, so I didn’t worry that someone was going to interrupt. Most contractors wanted to get their business over with in the morning and were at jobsites the rest of the day. I held my thighs open and Old Guy was free to suck and lick, and I gasped and told him play-by-play of my encounter with Chris and Kelly.

Old Guy really knows how to suck pussy!! That’s the thing about doing a bunch of young studs...sometimes their techniques are lacking. Old Guy loved hearing about the sex, and he made me tell how I got off, bobbing up and down on Chris’ long shlong, screaming out while the climax ripped through me--he made me tell that part three times. Eventually, he got too cramped under my desk, but not before I got off on his tongue, and he caught all my sweet, pissy spray in his mouth and then clamped down on my tweaking clit with extreme suction until I climaxed again.

Oh he was good!

Before I left to go home, I told him thank you. Of course we were at work, and that wasn’t going to happen every day, but when I drove home, I pulled up my skirt and my fingers strayed to my pussy. I didn’t want to stroke it too much--it needed a break--but my thoughts wandered. What if I come back to work and told Old Guy about all my adventures every day? I’ll bet I can get off four or five times a day!! And that’s before I come home from work. My pussy was all addled-- stretched and stressed from all the activity. Good girl, I thought, patting my puss.

 

September 14, 2000

Today, when I came into work, I brought Old Guy a cup of coffee. "Hey Baby," I said, my usual flirtiness coming out in full force. "I just want to tell you thanks again."

He grinned. I imagine he gave his dick a good workout after I left, or after he got home, sprawled out on the couch with a cocktail. I imagined him watching his pornos--with his drink in one hand, the remote on the arm of the couch and his tired, old dick stretched out with a new enthusiasm as he recalled the afternoon.

"I’m not going to make that a habit..." I told him. "But there’s no reason we can’t do that once in awhile."

"Loved it,"he said. "Anytime."

So Dear Diary, do you think I have a "problem"??

I knew what he thought of me! He thought I was so hot, he couldn’t stand it. I was the fodder for his masturbating. I was his dream girl. He would give just about anything to get between my legs. Even though I didn’t want to "do" him, it was a pretty cool thing to know that someone wanted me so bad.

re jealous? Like they do on the show. Vick said, that’s where we’d come in. We’d be in charge of the challenges, and we could grant immunity to the chicks we wanted to keep in the competition.

We laughed and joked about it for awhile, but I figured that’d be the end of it. That was until one day the following week. Vick called me on my cell at work. "Hey, Man," he said, "look in the classifieds."

I flipped to the back section of the city paper, and sure enough, there it was, in bold print:

Nude female models wanted for the time of your life. Winner will receive an all expenses paid trip to Burmuda. Contact JJ at 555-7923.

I called him back. "What’d you list my number for, Man? What am I supposed to do?"

"Screen the models. Give them the initial interview, that sort of thing. Make sure we have a variety of chicks. A redhead, a brunette, a natural blonde... Make sure they’re the types who are a little desperate for money so we can talk them into the contest."

"We’re really going through with this, huh?"

So I started taking phone calls. And these girls sounded hot. Vick had me reserve a conference room at the Hyatt. Wayne and Vick met me there for the interviews on a Saturday.

I’m a manager in the home electronics section at Best Buy. I borrowed some recording equipment and brought my camcorder. We didn’t have the girls get naked there at the Hyatt or anything. We mostly wanted to find girls who would think we were filming this for a reality show to air on Spike, the men’s channel. Wayne said we should just go to a strip club and find our models there. Vick and I vetoed that idea. If a stripper ended up in the contest, that’d be fine, but we wanted some "girl next door" types, and I didn’t think we’d get a good sampling of regular girls at a strip joint.

Girls were lining up. Vick decided that he’d pay each one for each "episode." The first girl to get disqualified would get $200, the last girl would get a grand. And the trip to Bermuda. We told them that we’d be doing most of our work here at the Hyatt. We’d reserve suites and send them on shopping sprees as part of the contest. Vick said he’d foot the bill. He knew how to write most of this off on his Daddy’s expense account anyway. We were going to have the time of our lives.

I set up the camcorder. We told the women to come to the interview wearing casual clothes. We wanted to see what kinds of chicks they were when they weren’t too dolled up. We’d have time later in the contest for that kind of thing. For the most part, we wanted to see which girls wore bras, and which ones wore skin tight outfits. We also took turns taking them out after the interview for drinks. Vick wanted to make sure they could loosen up a bit, and that they had at least a little personality. He wanted to go on the trip to Bermuda with the winner, and he wanted to ensure that she could carry her part of the conversation.

Not that he was that great a catch. He just had that big an ego.

I had a blast filming the interviews. We’d told the girls that there’d be nudity in the actual filming, but for that day, I just enjoyed seeing chicks hiking up their skirts to flash me a little ass, or leaning over the table showing off some cleavage. I guess they figured that would get them some extra points, and from the hard-on forming in my pants, I can assure you it was working. We ended up with a big pile of folders, one for each of the likely candidates. We took plenty of numbers and told each of them they’d hear from us by the end of the week.

There was one woman who had my attention right off. Her name was Courtney. She came in wearing a little black dress. It flowed around her like it had a mind of its own. It was cut as a halter top, and her breasts were firm. Her nipples were erect, saluting me under the fabric throughout the interview. Her eyes were blue, and her hair a sandy blonde. She had a captivating mole on the side of her mouth, just like Kirsten Dunst. There was a lot of chemistry going on. Her blue eyes flashed, "I dare you" when she looked at me. She laughed a lot, but not so much that it got on your nerves.

Even though we weren’t purposely looking for "sluts" we were going to have to find some pretty open-minded chicks. I mean, the contest was for the Sole Survivor who could Out blow, Out lick, Out fuck. The girls we found were going to have to be open to doing a lesbo scene, a lot of sex, and ultimately, an anal scene. I don’t know how Vick was going to make sure that the women were all okay with that, and I was leaving that part up to him. After I interviewed them, shooting a couple shots and filming part of the question/answer period, Vick would take each of the real potential candidates out for a drink. He wanted to get an idea of how far each girl would go. I think one chick had a drink too many and offered to blow him right there in the bar! Her name was Katherine, but she told us to call her Kitten. That’s what her friends called her. She got her folder moved ahead as "Very Likely."

 

One girl, Tatiana was a very hot-looking black chick. She had full, pouty lips and hazel eyes. She wore a bright yellow top and low-rider jeans, those kinds with the distressed bleach marks to highlight her curves. And boy did she have curves! She had one of those asses that only black girls have, it just didn’t quit. When she bent over in front of me to pick up her pen, my boner about burst through my zipper. She told us she worked retail. When I looked through her application afterwards, I called to verify her employment. The gal who answered the phone said it was a "Lover’s Package."

There were a couple girls we ruled out right away. One said she was Mormon. One said she worked at an elementary school. Wayne was pulling for me to move her ahead because he said he was always ‘hot for teacher,’ but I told him that we were more or less playing a game, and if anything ever got out about this, she could lose her job. I don’t think I gained any points for having ethical considerations, and she was damn cute, but I just didn’t want to take any chances. Something like that could end up in court, you know what I mean?

I left that afternoon, and I thought we were pretty much going to have to do some more interviews. Then Vick called me that Wednesday and said, "You on for Saturday? I’ll fax you a list. Call them and tell each of them to come in, wearing something tight, and bringing their favorite sex toy. Don’t be more specific than that. If they ask questions, just repeat, wear something tight and bring your favorite sex toy. Tell them it’s a chance for them to be creative."

Now it probably would have been more crazy if we would have rented an island or something, like the network does, but that wasn’t practical. And as we got going, it only made sense to do the contest in different hotels. That way, we didn’t have to have a cleaning or decorating staff, and after each "episode" we’d give further instructions as we went. Plus, we were definitely after Material Girls and I didn’t think they’d go for the island theme.

There were ten girls on the final list. I really didn’t have any idea what Vick had told them, so I just phoned, and said what Vick told me to, that line about the tight and the toy. I have to say, I had to wait until evening and call them from home. Thinking about what toy they each might bring in about had me busting a nut. I had my thing out, and I was stroking it while I called through the list. I have to say I saved Courtney for last. She didn’t sound trampy at all, just as sweet as could be. Was she even legal? I checked her file and it said she was twenty one. So I just beat my meat, and when she giggled in her cute little way, I lost a load in my palm. Oh my. How was it that such a cute, sweet girl was also into hot, wild sex? Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she was in over her head. Time would tell.

End of part 1

y for gay boys, but she put a lot of stock into what a gay man would say about getting properly fucked in the ass.

They read for awhile, laughed at a few, even looked at a couple of pictures. No great information that they hadn’t already thought of on their own, but then, they both considered themselves to be fairly literate when it came to sexual tricks and techniques, and sanitary precautions were always taken because no one wanted to get that infection; it would close The Playground for a week.

He went back to Yahoo! to type in one more phrase: Anal Fisting. Oh my! This was freaky, an interesting turn of events. She wasn’t sure she needed to have his whole hand inside of her, but she was game to just about anything. They browsed some more, discussed a couple of the pictures. They didn’t look too hazardous, well except for the one over-achiever who let both sex partners shove their hands in together. They kicked through the pictures, decided to not link into alternative fetish sites. One woman raved about fisting, said it rocked her world, and be sure to use KY.

Enough already. He stood up, said, "I’m in the mood for some fisting." He pumped out his chest and trekked off to the bedroom.

"Hmm," she thought, following him. She felt so naive. Until this point in her life she had remained unaware that there could be a mood for fisting. "Go ahead. But you have to use a lubricant." She fished in a drawer and came up with the suggested tube of KY. They’d used it on a couple of other recent adventures, but it was heavy and scented compared to the lubricant she preferred. But it would be the best application for this, she was sure. She wanted him greased.

She peeled off her clothes and lay on the bed, always willing to start something. "Where you going first?" she asked.

"Wherever I want."

He circled the bed, all sprung, deciding which hole to put it in first.

She loved his sense of adventure. Since starting up with him, she’d definitely had the best sex in her life, no question. There were times they watched porn. They could keep up. And they were both hitting thirty, old folk.

Since meeting her, he’d been playing with some of the ideas for fun that he’d always had, but never had a partner interested in participating. This one was a keeper. She didn’t say no, she was willing to try anything. They started off with some regular stuff, then skipped quickly to anal sex, and the other night, he bought her a vibrator. He picked it up off the bedsheets and stepped into the bathroom. He was ready. His penis lurched in front of him like a water witch. The pictures had stoked him up. "I’m going to rinse this thing off." She was pretty sure he was talking about the toy, but he soaped himself down and rinsed off in the sink. Scrubbed the vibrator.

He squirted KY all over the dildo. She spread herself out and he eased the slippery rubber inside her ass. She balked after the initial thrust, then relaxed into it. He started the C battery powered motor. He stroked her once. She was wet, as usual, and he slipped his own dick inside of her vagina. He hadn’t done this before. Double penetration. He rocked her pelvis from the side, where he had positioned her so he could watch things slide inside, onto her back so he could shove inside. The wall of her rectum muffled the pulse of the humming vibrator. When she rocked back, her whole pussy shook from the small motor and he sighed as sank in deeper-- a deep, gratified sigh, like he was home.

She loved taking him, however he wanted it. Once, she ended up with her back and shoulders over the edge of the bed, almost landing on her head, as her knees rocked up to accommodate his experimental position. His dick filled her to capacity. He told her he wanted to get naked in her soul. It was times like this that she wanted to make him realize he was there.

She held the vibrator tight in her asshole, using her hand to press it inside, the motor pulsing. Her whole pelvis was alight. He settled in, finding a pace he liked, keeping her rocking back and forth to match his motion, keeping her sighing against him. She liked watching him thrust his cock between her legs where her pussy was all shaved. He watched as well. Sometimes they sat there breathless, both watching the angle of his body sinking all the way inside. He tweaked her nipple with his teeth and mouth and she quickly came. She was easy that way.

He ground against her, then pulled out. His cock glistened from being inside of her, and she wanted him warm inside her mouth. She loved giving head. She loved having cock inside her face. All of her senses were in her face, and she could see, hear, feel, smell and taste him there. She would suck cock anytime. Anyplace. They usually started that way, but this time it was hardly necessary. He was a black man. His skin was a satisfying light brown. One time he put his hands on her lily white tits and squeezed, her boobs mooshed through his fingers like white bread dough. She teased him that his dick was all white before he started sticking it inside her ass, what did he expect? He retorted that if that was all it took to turn chocolate, then he was more than ready to do it again. She started sucking him, the contrast of their skin was a huge turn-on.

He straddled her face and sank his cock inside her mouth, at least as far as it would go. She’d never been able to swallow him all the way, and they didn’t force it because when it hit the back of her mouth, there were bones that she couldn’t quite reposition to take him down her throat. She contented herself with filling her face with him and sucking all the flavor from her cunt off his body.

He leaned forward between her legs and started to dart his tongue against her clit. Usually he pressed all her buttons real quick and she started writhing on the bed to get away from the intensity. Sometimes he lapped at it nice and slow. She kind of liked him to mix it up a little, nice and slow, then a little intensity, nothing too earth shattering, work up to it. He settled on a particularly nice spot and she had to take his dick out of her mouth so that she could catch her breath. He twitched in front of her face, anticipating her warm mouth stroking his skin again. She knew he was going for the intense "you are at my mercy" approach he sometimes took to oral sex. She gulped his cock down her mouth again and when he lapped lapped lapped that one critical spot again, she couldn’t help it. She cried out, but it was muffled from having his cock in her face and she squirted all over the bed. He jerked back to avoid having it hit him in the face and started to laugh. She couldn’t help it. She needed to talk to him about that. Mix it up a little, James.

She pulled back long enough to say, "Put your hand inside." Then she went back to sucking and stroking at his dick. He took the tube of lubricant and slid the grease all over his hand. She spread her legs apart, used her hands to pull the hole open. He started with a couple, then three fingers. "Do your hand," she urged, pulling off him long enough to sputter out the words. He didn’t need any more encouragement. He straighted his hand into as narrow a size as he could get and reached inside her body cavity. It was warm and slippery. He sank up to his wrist.

Oh my.

She struggled to accommodate him, his hand inside her cunt, his dick inside her mouth.

"Wow!" he marveled. "You should see this."

She thought, "I’m kinda busy right now." She smiled. He filled her spirit. She liked when he filled her so literally. He made her feel full, full of life and vitality. She hoped he understood how starved she had been all her life, waiting to find him.

She let him go as deep as she could let him, but it was a tight fit. She wriggled under him, and he eased back, then forced his hand inside of her again. It was awesome--something she’d never tried before. Certainly never thought she could enjoy. This was intense, a little too intense, and she had to motion for him to stop. He was always careful to not hurt her. She trusted that he would never push it. That was part of what made her so willing to try everything he thought of to do.

"Let me rinse."

Grateful for the break, she lay on the bed, panting. He would come back, moosh her into another position and she would go with the flow, slide him into home, feel his pace quicken as he sighed up inside her. He angled the vibrator into her pussy and slipped his way inside her ass. The pulse was fabulous. In time, they pushed the vibrator out of the way and she eased into the rhythm as he bopped in and out. His job was moving people from one apartment to the next. Hard work. He was in fantastic shape. It was a good thing, because he was slave to the desires of his dick and it never went down. He slammed against her ass for a good fifteen minutes, mopping sweat off his brow, when finally something loosened inside of her. In the passion of the moment, she was afraid she was going to clench muscles and push something unmentionable into his lap.

"Can we move it to the shower?"

They got up and took it into the bathtub where curtains were pulled, everything was soaped and rinsed. She bent over and he slid it back inside of her, ramming her until she climaxed under the warm jets of water hitting her butt. She hadn’t climaxed before while he was in her ass, and she was just as glad to be inside the shower, where she could push against him and spray pee from the force of her orgasm. He rocked in deep, feeling her sphincter muscles clench around his hard cock. The rush of the hot water made everything surreal.

He slipped out and she knelt to pick up soap from the bottom of the tub. "Stay down there," he said and she took him into her mouth again, the water hitting his pelvis, her hair getting soaked, streaming down. Fuck my face, she thought, trying to swallow him whole. No deal. He hit the back of her throat, and she didn’t want to force him.

"Enough," he announced, stepping out. He led her to the bed, his huge erection pointing the way. Sopping wet, she knelt so he could slam inside of her asshole, doggy-style. Water ran off her and she gradually got cooler and cooler, the heat from his body covering her from behind. He stopped stroking his cock inside of her. When he pulled it out, he smeared lubricant all over his hand again, this time shoving it up to the thumb inside her ass. He wriggled it inside for a bit, then took his hand out and kept slamming her with his big dick. He stopped, stuck his hand in again, then replaced it again with the rhythm of his dick. His enthusiasm for all of this was so playful, it delighted her. He was like a little kid in a carnival with a bracelet for free rides. He didn’t know what to do next and he wanted to try everything.

She loved how long he took, she loved his energy. She would match his pace as long as he could keep it going. Beads of water and sweat rained down on her, and he kept it up, relentless, like the Energizer Bunny. In shape or not, they had been going for over an hour and a half. They would both pay for it tomorrow.

"You gonna cum?" she finally asked. Sometimes it seemed like she needed to ask James if he was going to finish, it gave him permission to do so. He was always willing to stay rigid hard, slamming and pumping until she was done with her orgasm.

He had only come inside of her twice. She didn’t remember how that happened; it had been months ago. Most of the time he came with some sucking and stroking and he liked the jets of white to hit her face. She was a little reluctant to put her mouth on him after he had been in her ass for so long, but he glistened with lubricant that mostly tasted sweet. She paused, and he snaked his hand into position, jerking the loose skin up and down, trying to release the pressure he had held back for almost two hours. She offered her mouth and her own stroke, but it wasn’t keeping pace with the one inside his head. He jammed on it, moving it in circles, much rougher than she would have dared attempt on her own. (James, it’s Sensitive . How are you wailing on it like that?) She watched, wondering if she was going to get to a point where she could master that stroke too. It probably didn’t matter, but she liked watching him, lost in that place where no one quite touches, eyes closed. The muscles in his legs tensed into sinews, hard as rock as he cried out, finally releasing it, finding her mouth. He pushed the tip past her teeth and jism started jetting out, cascading down his dark skin like powder sugar glaze on chocolate cake. She lapped it up and took him deep in her mouth, stroking fingers up and down the way he seemed to want it at the end. She loved the taste of his cum.

"That was too much damn work." He said, sweat streaming. Grinning ear to ear.

They collapsed on the bed, listless, satisfied. Mumbling pillowtalk and thank you until he got up for one final shower and she walked into the kitchen to make dinner. She felt the echo from the slam of his fingers inside her asshole in every step, in every ounce of her being. Yes, she was going to pay for it tomorrow. But ooh--at least there was something to feel.

p>

I’d started driving over the road around the time we met. She encouraged me because the money was good and there was plenty of work, but neither of us liked the fact that I was away for weeks at a time. While I was on the road, the cell phone bill was out of control. Sid tried for a promotion at her job then got furious when she realized how dead end her job had become. I felt frustrated because I couldn’t be home to lend more support as she went through a tough transition of realizing she wouldn’t get the position because she was a woman. She worked in a family-owned business where the good ole boys’ club was alive and well. She realized she was at the point where it was fight or flight from the company.

"You want to be with me, right?"

"Of course."

"Then go to truck school. You can drive truck with me."

"Me?" She was five foot four, with dark hair and eyes, and frankly had never thought about driving as a part of any job, let alone pursuing professional driving as a living.

"Tell you what. You have some time coming from work. Take a couple days and I’ll take you out on the road with me to see how you like it. There’s lots of women drivers. You’ll see."

"I’ll think about it." Sidney said. Her brain was going fifty miles a minute. She was good about considering new ideas.

The next time I pulled my rig home, she made the arrangements and had her suitcase packed. We had some crazy sex at home, slept a bit, then in the afternoon, she moved her things into my truck. It was crowded, but we squeezed her in. I had a bed, a refrigerator, a small VCR/television. Now I had a potential co-driver. Things were looking up.

I was on a load where I needed to pull 43,000 lbs. across seven states. I’d started with plenty of hours to do it, but stopping at home to sleep, and the extra time for send-you-through-the-roof fucking had put me a little behind schedule. I did a quick walk around the truck and settled in, ready to drive 600 miles before parking for the night. Sid sat in the jump seat (trucker name for the passenger seat), kept the conversation lively, changed the music, and eventually looked like she wanted to chill out.

"You can go back to the sleeper berth," I told her. It was late, but I still had a hundred miles to drive.

"Okay," she said. I could tell she was still cranked up from the hours of fucking we’d done earlier. She was in that peaceful, but thrilled state she got to. "How many hours you got left?" she asked.

"Maybe two."

"Okay, I’ll go lie down, but I don’t think I’m going to go to sleep." She kissed me on the cheek.

Okay! I thought. She was up to something. She shuffled through my video collection and popped a tape into the VCR.

"I’m gonna watch one of your movies while you finish."

"What you gonna watch?" I started to ask, but I didn’t need the answer. I could tell as soon as the tape got rolling. She had one of my sex videos. It quickly elapsed into a scene where two women were sucking each other’s tits and pussies. Sidney stripped down to her black bra and thong and laid over the covers on the twin-sized mattress. She pressed the remote control so the gasps and sighs from the girls in the movies took over the truck.

"You like this part?" I called over the roar of the engine.

"Yes I do," she called. "I’d love to have one of these beautiful girls sucking on my tit right now." She giggled. "Especially since you’re all busy driving."

I kept looking at the road, but every time I turned my head to check my driver’s side mirror, I could see glimpses of tongue and pussy going at it in the video.

"Don’t mind me," Sidney called playfully from the back, "but I’m going to start jamming on my pussy while I watch this."

I liked to jack off while I watched the movies, but I’d had no idea that Sidney would like watching them, nor that she’d want to jack off while she watched. I kept listening to the sounds of women stroking, the actresses’ voices telling the camera man what hot, horny sluts they both were. I drove, the thought of my Sidney back there stroking her own shaved pussy and I could easily imagine the catch of her voice as she started to play on all her special spots, the look in her eyes as she rubbed her clit over and over. She liked to spread her legs real wide while she played, and I loved watching her! I glanced back over my shoulder. Sure enough, she had her legs wide open and I could see her hand stroke, stroke, stroking it along with the gals on the movie. My dick was getting harder and harder. I had to adjust my jeans to get it to slide down by my leg.

"You want some of this?" she asked.

"Of course I want some of that," I said, "but somebody’s got to drive this truck."

"Of course I want you to drive the truck," she quipped back, "but somebody’s got to take care of this pussy."

This was torture. I glanced back at her all spread out on the bed. She pulled a vibrator out of her bag. It was shaped like a big black dick. I got it for her when I first headed out on the road and told her not to get too used to it. I had my own big cock that I liked sinking into her slick pussy. I shifted the mirror on my visor to try to see if I could line her up. We were on a hilly, quiet part of Interstate 5 where the speed limit was only 55 and the road was relatively straight.

Sid saw I was watching, and she started hamming it up. She grabbed a plastic bottle out of her suitcase and squeezed lubricant all over the dildo. She spread her legs as wide as they would go and started sliding that thick vibrator in and out of her body. She gasped and sighed. I watched her, then my dick thickened some more and I unzipped my pants to move things around. My cock burst out of the confinement and curled up towards my belly.

"Whatcha doin’?" she asked coyly, knowing perfectly well what she was doing to me.

"I’m trying to give myself a little room up here. Not all of us have enough space to spread our legs out all wide like that."

"Like this?" She stood up, naked, and stepped to the front of the truck. She sat down in the jump seat again, and sprawled out, the plastic dick easing in and out of her body. She threw one of her feet up over the dashboard and the left foot back on the bed behind my seat. She spread her pussy wide open and started buzzing at her clit with the vibrator. The volume was down a bit on the television, but I could hear that the movie had gotten to the part where a black stud with twelve solid inches had come to rescue the pair of women in need of a good fuck. Sidney turned her head to watch the scene. He had both girls lying face down, one girl on top of the other, both asses in his face. He would plunge into one girl, then the other, smashing his meat into each hole until each girl’s sighs accelerated, then he would pull out and slide into the other woman’s cunt.

"Oh I really like this part," she teased. "You know where I could find a nice hung boy like him to take care of this little ole pussy?"

"Yah, I’ve got one right here."

"I see that," she said, rubbing hard on her clit which poked out from the folds of her slick vulva like a pencil eraser. She rubbed it very deliberately, watching my face. "But you’re driving. I can’t let you get too distracted from the road."

Shit. I was driving, and I was distracted, but I was still keeping it on the road. "Damn it, Woman, I can drive this truck. Come suck my cock."

Sidney giggled. She loved to give head, and I knew she would eventually, but she wanted to have her fun. "Maybe I will and maybe I won’t."

I looked in my side mirror. "There’s a Peterbilt about to pass me. You gonna cover yourself up?"

"Nope." She sat on the edge of the seat, the glow from the television lighting up the cab. She watched the dildo sink in and out of her body. She wasn’t really getting off on what she was doing with the dildo, but I could tell she was getting off on what she was doing to me. As the truck passed, she waved at the driver. I couldn’t tell if he noticed that she was naked or not. Hell, how could he not? Her tits were all over the place, and her hands were all over her pussy.

"Geez, Woman. What are you trying to do? Get me arrested?

"Like he would ever turn this in. He’s in there wishing he had some hot chick in the cab of his truck stroking on her pussy. Give me a break."

She had a point.

"What do you think I can do with that gear shift?" She stood up and sidled up to the gear shift and situated the vibrating head of it right up against her clitoris.

I was climbing a hill. "Hey watch out, now," I told her, "I might need to downshift. My load’s pretty heavy."

"I’ll bet you’ve got a nice heavy load," she said, giggling, grinding her pussy even harder against the triangular knob on the gearshift. I laughed. That’s one way to grind the gears! I moved my hand between her thighs and shifted to neutral, revved the engine and put it into ninth.

"Hey," she said, "I got something going here. Don’t you dare shift."

"I can take care of that. Bend forward."

She leaned down on the dash board, legs parted and I had the sweet view of her wet slit, her swollen clit, and some pussy that never seemed to get enough strokin’. I kept my foot on the throttle, pressed flat to the floor, not wanting to lose momentum and having to break my concentration to shift into eighth. I kept my hand busy, working the knuckles hard against her soft crevices. She started moaning, backing against my hand.

I started stroking her soft folds of her labia with the backs of my knuckles. She was charged up by now, and she squatted and raked her clit up and down with short, swift strokes. Every woman has her own sounds, and she panted and sighed in soft, quick bursts. Oh this woman was something else!

My truck was slowing down, but I was catching up to that Peterbilt. He was chugging up the hill even slower than I was. He was hauling a crane, so his load was probably over the legal weight. I edged into the left lane so that I wouldn’t get bogged down behind him. I had to stop diddling Sidney a second to downshift.

Sid picked up the dildo and started fucking herself with it. She was standing on the floor by the gearshift and leaning over the jump seat, her face down and her ass up. I was getting a perfect view of the action. My truck was almost nose to nose with the Peterbilt. He looked over to give me the friendly wave that drivers give to each other when they pass, and his eyes just about bugged out of his head. There I was, driving uphill, my girl fucking with a dildo, her ass up in the air, and she was really into it.

The Peterbilt driver motioned to his CB radio. I cranked up the volume, and pushed the lever on the microphone. Sidney wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing, and I didn’t know if I wanted her to know. I was broadcasting her fuck noises all over the airwaves. While I had the microphone clicked, the other drivers couldn’t talk over me and interrupt her session, but they could all hear what she was doing. The Peterbilt flashed me into the right lane in front of him and I knew he was glued to his speakers, listening to her cries. She kept jamming the dildo in and out.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh baby! Fuck me fuck me FUCK me!" She sounded way hotter than the girls in the movie she’d been watching. Even that was making plenty of noise in the background. One of those girls was hollering, "Give me that huge dick. Give it to me now!"

I heard an enthusiastic listener honk his airhorn from the oncoming traffic. I don’t think Sidney noticed. She was self-absorbed, bouncing and bobbing against the dildo. My own dick sprang out with a mind of its own. Oh, I wanted to jack off! I could feel the blood pounding into the head. It didn’t care that we’d had quite a strenuous session earlier in the day.

The girl in the movie was winding up to cum. Her sounds were merging with Sid’s. "Go Baby, Go," the second woman in the movie was urging, as the black stud fucked her balls deep. Her voice was climbing in octaves as he kept drilling away. It sounded fabulous. Then Sid was going to cum. Her moans were getting more primal and louder. She aimed the dildo so it would be sure to hit against her G-spot. She was really pounding it home. "Uhn! Uhn! Uhn, Oh MY GOD!" Sidney screamed. Her cunt muscles clenched on the dildo and ultimately pushed it out. It clattered on the floor near the gear shift.

I turned off the microphone and clipped it back before she noticed that I was using the CB.

"Driver, whatcha got going on in there?" The CB radio squawked.

"Was that what I think it was? OOOOOooooo-eeee! Someone’s having a little fun!" said a second listener in a Southern accent.

Sidney froze. "What was that?" She moved to sit in the jump seat.

"A couple other drivers. Looks like you got yourself a fan club. These trucks have been passing me and getting an eyeful."

That, and I blasted your fuck sounds all over the air wave. But that was going to be my little secret.

I was over the crest of the mountain and now was braking to keep from flying down the other side. I had to put my hands on the wheel, because there were some turns coming up. The Peterbilt gained speed and scooted into the lane to pass. He pulled up alongside my truck and tipped his hat.

Sidney waved, looking a little fishy. He was getting a nice shot of her perky little boobs. She didn’t have a clue why everyone was so interested.

"Ooh!" she said, after he passed, "look at you. Somebody’d better take care of that." She knelt beside my seat and bent down over my throbbing organ. She started sucking the head and massaging my balls. I adjusted the seat height and the steering wheel so she would have enough room for her head.

I had truck drivers slowing down to gawk at her blowing me inside my cab.

I was thinking she might be just right for this career.

 

summer, I put together a flyer offering to babysit and sent it home with several of the students.

Bobby was one of those kids. He had thick black, curly hair and sparkling brown eyes. His favorite song was "The Wheels on the Bus." His favorite color was red. He wore a baseball cap every day. He could hardly color within the lines and he ran in a rolling lope like an adolescent puppy. When we went swimming, he was afraid to put his face under the water. He also developed a crush on one of the other assistant counselors, Carrie. He walked around with picture she colored and gave to him, saying "Carrie’s my gurl. Carrie’s my gurl."

Bobby’s parents called me and asked me to stay with him one evening. His family was terrific! As soon as I came into the house, Bobby came running to me, calling "Dido! Dido!" I was thrilled that he remembered me. My real name's Diane.

I learned that Bobby loved Nascar. I also learned that he was very small for his age. His mother told me he just had his fifteenth birthday! All along, I’d thought he was only about eleven. Mentally, he was quite a bit younger than that. But I wasn’t an expert on special ed. I was just trying to make a little extra money and I was hoping my summer experience would count for something.

I sat with him in front of The Bionic Man and colored in his Matchbox coloring book. He went in his room and brought out that colored page from summer and chanted, "Carrie’s my gurl."

"I know she is. You miss seeing Carrie?"

He nodded with his lip sticking out.

"Dido, potty."

"You have to go potty?"

He nodded.

"Well go ahead."

He ran off. I heard a door slam.

A few minutes later I heard, "Uh oh! Uh oh! Dido, uh oh!"

"Just a minute, Bobby."

I knocked on the door even though it was ajar, and I pushed it open.

He’d made a mess. He must have gotten into his mother’s mascara. When I came into the room, he pointed to a black smear on his leg. "Uh-oh."

"Bobby, you need to take a bath." I turned on the water. "Honey, take off your clothes."

Bobby took his clothes off and stood with his hands covering his penis. He started to giggle.

"I’m not looking." I assured him.

I did notice he was starting to grow hair on his chest and his pubic area. I found a towel and a washcloth for him in a closet. There were several boats and a plastic car in the tub and he settled in and started splashing his hands against the surface of the water.

"Here’s the soap. You make sure you scrub that stuff off your leg." I walked to the toilet and picked up his clothes and threw them in the hamper. "I’m going to get your pajamas, Bobby. I’ll be right back."

When I came back into the bathroom, he was looking at me with a funny look on his face. I looked into the tub. His penis was fully engorged, and he was poking at it. It was enormous!

"Oh Bobby, don’t do that. Let’s have a boat race." I sat down by the tub and pushed a red plastic speed boat across the water to him.

He put both hands on his dick and grasped it and forced it forward, looking at it with admiration.

It was something to admire.

At age seventeen, I hadn’t seen a lot of dicks. I hadn’t seen much but little boys when they needed diapers changed, or my ten-year-old brother when he rushed from the shower to grab a towel. I’d had experimental sex one time with a boyfriend, Henry, but that was a year ago, before his family moved to Portland, in the blackness of the back seat of his car. There wasn’t time to study his erection before he came.

I couldn’t help looking at Bobby's dick. The head was full and purple. The shaft was pale, a little redder at the base and along the bottom. It bowed from his lap almost to his belly button. It was beautiful!

I’d started dating my boyfriend when he was fifteen and his dick was way smaller than Bobby’s. I held the plastic speed boat and bumped Bobby in the knee. "Hey!" I said, "Let’s have a race."

Bobby giggled and got a blue speed boat from the soap dish. "Zoom! Zo-o-o-oom!" he shouted and started pushing the boat. I forced myself to not look at him below his shoulders and pretty soon we were both smiling and pushing little boats around the tub. His erection subsided.

Whew!

I handed him the soap and a washcloth. "Let’s get you to bed."

He scrubbed his feet and his bottom. I held his towel open while he finished, and then wrapped him in the towel. He dried off.

"Sippers!" he said.

I went into his room to find his slippers.

A half hour later, I was sitting next to the bed reading his favorite story. Then it was time to turn out the light.

"Kiss-Kiss? Dido. Kiss-Kiss?"

I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "G’night, Honey."

He gave me a kiss back, and it was on the lips.

I turned off the reading lamp, made sure his night light was glowing and closed the bedroom door.

Then I stood with my back against the door and let out a sigh of relief. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath.

I got out my homework and started checking my geometry solutions against the answers listed in the back section of the textbook.

About twenty minutes later, I allowed myself to lay on the couch and think about what had happened. For some reason, it had never occurred to me that Bobby would have such a man-sized cock stuck on a body with a five-year-old mind. And it was a monster of a cock. Especially to me, with my whopping repertoire of one conquest.

I closed my eyes and I couldn’t get the image of that throbbing purple head out of my mind. I could imagine the warmth of the water enveloping his body, and see how he thrust it about like a fire hose. I could hear the babyish cry of his "Zoom! Zo-o-om!" echoing in my thought.

God. What a waste.

 

It was a couple weeks before Bobby’s family called me again to babysit. In that time, my silly thoughts flew to that image over and over. It haunted my dreams. I dreamed of Bobby at summer, needing help to hold the bat so that he could hit the softball, only when I tried to help him follow through on his swing, we were both holding that glorious cock of his. Then he was holding up his Matchbox coloring book page that I had signed and personalized with a happy face, singing, "Dido’s my gurl! Dido’s my gurl!"

The dreams were strangely erotic and I woke up more than once with a tingle between my legs.

Bobby was in the car when his parents came to get me. "Dido!" he called. "Dido’s my gurl!" he told his father, very excited.

I blushed, and climbed into the car. "I’m your girl now, huh?"

He nodded, a grin from ear to ear.

There were car races on the television when we got to his house and he settled in to watch, shouting with glee when certain cars were in the lead. I listened to his mother’s quick instructions for making dinner and then they left. I sat down to watch the race with Bobby and he grabbed my hand.

How sweet! Oh but how awkward. My head was spinning. I was having these crazy erotic thoughts about little Bobby and his big man-dick. Even though I knew better, did he know better? He was clinging to my hand, announcing that I was his "gurl" and I just sat there next to him and took it in. Since Henry, I hadn’t had anyone announce to the world that I was his "gurl" and even with Henry, it was pretty much a hush, hush, you-don’t-need-to-tell-anyone-that-I-like-you sort of arrangement. I was just a dull seventeen year old with raging hormones, trying to remind myself that even though Bobby was plenty old enough to have a girlfriend, he wasn’t "old" enough to have a girlfriend.

And I kept thinking about that monster in his pants.

I asked him to help me in the kitchen. He showed me where to find the pan and we boiled water and made hotdogs. There was jello salad in the fridge, and a bag of chips on the counter. I ate some carrots, but Bobby wrinkled up his nose and wouldn’t touch them.

It was different between us. Bobby had decided I was his "gurl" and he kept trying to put me in a position where it felt a little too intimate. He wanted to put his arm around me on the couch. I really wasn’t comfortable with that, and I kept changing seats, but he kept scooting next to me. "Dido’s my gurl." He was so happy! I didn’t want to burst his bubble.

And quite honestly, after a year of having no one pay me any mind, it was a little flattering. Even if it was only Bobby.

Then it was time to go to bed. I told him to get a book, and he picked the same one, about the baseball player named Fred, so I read to him while I sat in the chair beside his bed.

About halfway through the book, he started giggling. "Uh-oh!"

"What?"

His eyes were so bright and happy. He pointed.

I looked down.

Uh-oh. There was that monster dick again. Straining against his pajamas. I could see the outline of that beautiful head, just about to burst. He was twitching it with muscles from within, making it flick against his leg.

"Bobby." I couldn’t take my eyes away. "You shouldn’t be doing that. You need to stop."

I forced myself to look at the book and turn the page.

"Dido, look."

I glanced up. He’d pulled his cock out of the top of his pajama pants and it was full and draping in a sweet arc against his belly.

I started reading again. But Bobby wasn’t listening.

I needed to stop pretending. It was Bobby. Bobby didn’t pretend something was going on that wasn’t. In this case, Bobby wasn’t trying to pretend that he didn’t have a log of an erection laying on his leg when he did.

Then I don’t know what came over me. I ached to have Bobby be an ordinary fifteen-year-old with a dick that was throbbing and beckoning for ME. Me, a plain Jane sort of a girl who babysat handicapped children on Saturday nights instead of going on dates. I yearned to have a mature mouth kiss me and muscular arms that draped around me when I sat on the couch. I was so lonely!

I missed Henry and I didn’t understand why I didn’t seem to appeal to anyone else. I had regular-looking brown that fell softly across my shoulders when I took it down and C-cup breasts ready to bust out beneath my buttoned blouse. I had a soft mouth and I didn’t think my breath smelled bad. And I knew that given the right circumstances, my pussy would get sodden and I could learn to fuck like a wild thing.

But this wasn’t the right time. I looked at the HotWheel sheets on his bed. This wasn’t the right place. This definitely was not the right boy.

But he was took my hand. "Kiss-Kiss?" His lips were puckered, rather comically. I smiled and looked away. This was so absurd. It was absolutely ludicrous that I had hormones raging through my loins.

And he did too.

He might be mentally very young, but his cock was bulging and his crotch was sprouting black bristles of pubic hair. It was confusing. And if it was confusing to me to have these feelings coarsing through my veins, how did it feel to him?

Then I did the unforgivable.

"Take your pajamas off." I said quietly. He looked at me kind of funny, but lifted his hips while I slid plaid pajama bottoms down over his butt. His dick brushed my hand when I took hold of the elastic waist band. I was hyper aware of exactly where his dick was and how it was barely brushing against me. I wanted to play with that thing!

I took it in my mouth. "O--oh," he sighed. I opened my eyes and looked at his face. He was fascinated. His eyes were wide open and his mouth was hanging open. "Wow," he said.

This was crazy. What was I doing?

He didn’t talk enough to tell anyone what I was doing. Was I raping him? Probably. I looked at his face. Did he care?

Hell no. He didn’t care. He was smiling and laughing. "Dido!"

I licked his dick, swirling my tongue across the sensitive tip.

He moaned.

I put my hand on the base and directed it into my mouth. I’d never really given anyone a blow job but I had a good idea what was involved. I started stroking my hand up and down the shaft.

I wanted to ride him, but I didn’t take birth control. I didn’t carry a rubber. And to be brutally blunt, I didn’t trust his sperm to be normal and I didn’t want to bring a handicapped child into the world. So a blow job was going to have to do.

"Uhn. Uhn. Uhn." he groaned, matching the pace I was using to bring his dick in and out of my mouth. He put his hands down on my head and followed the motion. "Uhn, uhn, uhn."

Then I stopped for a moment to collect some more spit in my mouth.

"Dido. More." he said. "More." and he motioned towards his throbbing organ.

"Hang on a sec," I said, positioning myself on the bed between his legs. He held his legs rigid on either side of me.

He was totally stiff. His legs. His dick. The veins sticking out as he jutted his neck to watch me.

Was I freaking him out?

"Dido, more." he said, putting his hands into my hair and guiding my lips back to his dick. I took it into my mouth and started building some friction as I rocked my head up and down.

His cock filled my face. I held my mouth as wide open as I could so I wouldn’t rake his sensitive skin against my teeth. It hit me in the back of my mouth. I held the base with my hand so I had some control. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I opened my eyes to assure myself that he had his closed and his head was back on the pillow. I must be doing it right.

Inside my mouth, his full dick twitched and Bobby arched his back. He thrust his hips forward.

My mouth filled with his cum. It tasted like hand lotion. Well, it didn’t taste exactly like hand lotion, but that was my first impression. Definitely a new taste. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t dislike it either. I wiped my mouth.

Bobby writhed on the bed. "Wow!" he said, beaming.

Oh my God. He loved it! He was in total bliss.

I smiled. I loved that I had done that for him. What was his chance at finding a nice girl to blow him again? I was slightly out of breath. I was thrilled for him, and pretty pleased at myself for making him so happy.

"Okay, now. You ready to go to sleep?"

He nodded. "Kiss-kiss?"

I smacked him on the lips. I wanted to kiss him deeper, more intimate, but I had his cum in my mouth and I didn’t want to taste yucky. I wanted to kiss him deeper, but that would have been for me, and he wouldn’t know what to do with that any more than he knew what to do with his blessed hard cock.

I turned out the light and left the room. My heart was pounding. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. It was weird. It was almost like I wasn’t myself. I wasn’t doing that as myself. I was doing that as some sort of surrogate lover, like someone who was handing out her sex to those more needy. Like someone who wanted peace and love throughout the world.

I smiled at my silliness.

Then I realized the tremendous buzzing that was still between my legs. Surges of blood flowing to my genitals. Even though the blow job was amazing, and I’d loved the feeling of having my face all full of his thick cock, having his smell all in my nose, it hadn’t done much for me. I stepped into the bathroom in the hallway. I pulled my pants down to pee, then afterwards, I marveled at the glisten of extra mucus on the toilet paper. I wanted to masturbate, but that would have to wait till later. His parents would be home before long. I washed my hands and rinsed his taste out of my mouth.

Later, when I was in my own bed, I kicked off my panties and worked my pussy with a small bottle of nail polish. I inserted the bottle inside my vagina and rubbed it in and out, trying to match the pace I’d used sucking his cock. I was so turned on! I pinched my nipples into puckers and traced my fingertips gently up and down on the ridges and valleys of my cunt. It felt so good! I closed my eyes and imagined how Bobby must have felt when he buckled his hips and spurted his cum in my mouth. I thought about that throbbing cock and the way it filled my senses inside of my mouth. The smell. The taste. The feel. It took awhile before I got enough of my hand and the little bottle and I had to be so quiet--my sister was sleeping in the next bed.

The next day it hit me what I had actually done. Did I rape him? Oh God. I took total advantage of that poor boy! He couldn’t help that he got a big boner, but it was me who showed him what he could do with it. I knew better than that. And what had I done? I cranked up those latent sexual hormones. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t just go out and ask another girl to put her mouth on his dick.

It was his mother whose job it was to tuck him into those HotWheel sheets at night. What if he grabbed her face and tried to force it down on his rigid cock? Oh dear.

What had I done?

I was so ashamed. Suddenly I felt petrified. I was terrified that his family was going to figure out what I'd done.  No, he couldn't really explain it with words, but he could with motions.  He may not be able to speak my name, but he could remember me from Summer Camp and he understood that if he kissed my lips, that might make me "his gurl."

But what could I do?

Then I remembered his "Wow!" and the absolute look of satisfaction at the end. He was in awe. Right or wrong, I couldn’t take it back. Right or wrong, he’d loved it. Right or wrong, he was exploring his own sexuality, whatever that was going to mean for him in his life.  And I had shown him a damn good time.

Three days later I came home from school and my mother was waiting for me, sitting with a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

"Bobby’s mother called."

My heart was racing. I tried to appear calm. "What’d she want?"

"She was asking questions about you. What kinds of classes you’re taking at school--if you have a boyfriend, that sort of thing."

"Oh."

I studied my mother’s face, trying to read between the lines. Something happened at Bobby’s house. Was Bobby’s mom turning me in for being a child molester?

My mother placed her cup on a square white napkin.

"Is everything okay with Bobby?" I asked.

"Yes, she said Bobby’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with Bobby."  Her voice had a lilt at the end of the sentence.  There had to be more to the conversation. My mother looked out the window. I could only imagine what Bobby’s mother said.

I was so nervous I could hardly breathe. "Does she want me to call her back? Does she need to talk to me?"

"Yeah. I think she wanted to know if you could babysit Friday." Mom looked at me with a strange little smile. 

If there was more going on, I wasn't going to find out from her.  I went upstairs, called Bobby's mother, and agreed to babysit.  They would pick me up at five.

othes over to Doug’s place and then went on my run with Lex. I don’t know what it was, but I was feeling pretty horny. It was close to my period, I think it was a full moon...you know how it gets. Anyway, I was running my miles, but I didn’t really feel like running. I felt more like gettin’ busy. Sometimes I masturbate three or four times a day. Like I said, Doug has a heavy class schedule, so I’ve learned to take care of my own sex drive, whether or not he’s around. I whistled to Lex. I wanted to go back to Doug’s to "jill off" before I went to class. I always laugh at that term, because my real name is Jill. Somehow horny Jill laying in the bed, "jilling herself off" delighted me. I was planning to shower at Doug’s anyway.

Doug has an exercise mat next to some weights, so I went in there to do my final stretches. I’m not trying to be gross here, but when I’m crazy horny and I’ve been working out, my pussy gets to smelling pretty hard. This was one of those times. Now, I kind of like the smell, after all it’s my smell and even though I wouldn’t want Doug to go down on me if I smelled that strong, I kinda get off on it, especially since I was just there on my own. Well I was stretching, and my shorts were cutting into me, so I took them off. I do that a lot of times. I wear thong panties, so I didn’t have on much. I just wanted to get my workout over, go masturbate in the bed, shower, and get on with my day. I had the music on, I was doing my final stretches, and Lex came in with his tennis ball, sat on the floor next to me and watched.

Now of course, he probably came in to find me so I could toss his ball a few times, after all, we hadn’t gotten in our full run. He still wanted to play! But I was thinking of my wet pussy, and it gets a little achy, and all I could think about was taking care of it. I felt inside my thong, moved the fabric out of my crotch. I was soaking wet! I just wanted to stick my fingers down there, in there, wherever, and get off. The dog was watching me, and it made me feel funny. "Hey Lex! You need to go sit on the couch for a few minutes. Get!"

He didn’t listen to me. He put his ball down on the floor, sat with his head down on his paws and waited. He whimpered.

"Oh Lexy," I said to him, "I’ll run with you tomorrow. I’ll toss your ball later on. I just gotta take care of something else right now." I was doing some leg lifts on my side, and my panties were cutting right up my crack! Damn! They felt like they were slicing me in half!

Lex was just a dog, and he didn’t know what I was doing, so I decided to go for it. I sat up, rolled my panties down and then I sat down with my legs wide so I could stretch forward. I was almost done. I was stretching forward, my vagina gaping open, and yes! the smell was something else. Thick and sweaty, like I worked hard, and deserved to smell this way! I couldn’t wait to jill my pussy!

Erg! I definitely did not feel like finishing my workout. Then on came my favorite song, and I just wanted to listen to it, and get my groove off. I just laid back on the mat, and closed my eyes for a minute. I put my fingers on my clit and started playing...

Now you probably figured this out before I did, but the next thing I knew, Lex came over to sniff at me. And you know how dogs can be about pussy. He went right to my crotch. His nose brushed against me. It felt cold!

"Ha ha! No, Lexy, no. Be a good dog. Sit!"

I snapped my fingers at him and he sat down, but he was very close to me. He stuck his tongue out and started panting. I could smell his sweet doggy smell. He leaned forward and licked my face.

"Silly dog."

Like I said, I really wanted to masturbate. I kept a toy in Doug’s dresser, under the socks, so I got up off the mat to get it. The dog padded after me into the room. Sure wish Doug was here! I’d be on him like a nympho, fucking his brains out. Knowing him, he’d be trying to study math in between pumps. "Wait up," he’d say, "I have one more algorithm to solve." Maybe it was good he wasn’t here. I didn’t have to feel like I needed to rush. I had about an hour before my class. Doug needed to learn how to enjoy himself a little. He was a worrier.

I got up into the bed and Lex was still sitting there, staring. I started to think about how sweaty I was, and I didn’t really want to wash the sheets, so I decided to go back into the other room with my dildo and lay down on the mat. Lex followed me back into that room and sat down next to his tennis ball.

"OK Lexy, it’s just you and me. Shhh! Don’t tell anyone. You go right ahead and watch me get off..." I threw my legs out pretty much in the same position as before and started fingering my clit. I was so wet! I knew there was a streak of my juices on the exercise mat. "You like watching me play with my pussy...watch this!" I slipped my fingers into my cunny to ease it open a little bit. I wanted to jam that dildo in. I sat up on my elbow a little. I was nice and wet, so I slipped the dildo right in. Damn! That felt so good! I worked it back and forth for awhile, and if anything, the pussy smell got stronger in the room.

The dog cocked his head and watched what I was doing. It felt kind of exciting to have such an enthusiastic audience! He scooted forward and nudged my thigh with his nose. I jammed the dildo in and out of my pussy. I started to whimper and ease into it. It wasn’t going to take me long today! The dog heard my whine, and I guess he got alarmed, so he jumped up. I moved my hand away from my pussy, leaving the dildo planted deep inside, to scratch him between his ears, and I didn’t expect him to be so quick, but he went right for it! I mean it. He stuck his nose right there in my smelly cunny and he tentatively stuck his tongue out for a taste. Eek!

Now I should have screamed and jumped up, but I didn’t. I shot my hand back where it had been, in between his nose and my pussy, and clamped my hand to block my pussy lips. "No, Lexy, no. That wouldn’t be good. I can’t..." Well my hand reeked like my pussy, and so did the mat under my ass, and he just started licking my hand, and licking the mat near my leg. He finished licking the mat, and then he went back to licking my hand, the heavy smell must have been coming through my fingers, and he was trying to get to it.

It had been a long week. I really really wanted to get off, and like a lot of ladies, I could never get enough of having my pussy licked. Who would know? Lex was licking the back of my hand, the end of the dildo, sticking out of my cunt, and then he laid down, his nose staying right where it was, and started licking my ass.

No one would ever know! No one would know. It was just me and the dog. It didn’t take me but a minute more to lower my resolve and move my hand. That dog’s fat tongue was just slurping and lapping all those wet pussy juices up! I opened my legs wider and scootched down, trying to rock my pelvis to make him lick my clit. My pussy was still full of dildo, and it felt amazing to have the steady, energetic lapping on my cunnie. Lex was wonderful! There was something about his fat, rough tongue, and his willingness to get all the juices licked away.

"Oooh! That’s a goood doggy. I like that. Good boy." I reached down and stroked his head. I started to relax into it. Who the hell cared? If the dog didn’t care, and I didn’t care... I pulled the dildo out, and he sniffed at it and immediately licked it. "Lexy, come here!" I slapped at my hungry pussy and pulled my legs open in a split, to distract him away from my toy, and that dog went back to work on my cunt, lapping his huge tongue all the way from my asshole up to my clit. Wonderful!

Lex stood up and kept licking, maybe even more enthusiastic. I shut my eyes and just let him. I really liked the eager way he was lapping me off. I loved that he didnt’ seem to think I needed to shower that hard pussy smell off. He was going to clean it for me!

Lex stopped licking me whimpered a little bit and I turned my head to look. He leaned forward to lick his dick, which was alert, sticking out pink and eager from his hairy shaft. It throbbed. Lex kept whining and looked at me, his tongue out, he was panting a little bit, and there was water coming off his tongue. He stuck his tongue back into my cunny, squirming it into crevices and sticking it as deep as he could into my ass. Oh my God! It felt soo soo good! His dick was twitching, not too far from my head.

He was taking care of me... why not? I guess because I felt like he was doing me a favor, I should do the same for him. I clicked my tongue, "Come here, Lex." I patted the mat. He didn’t know what I wanted. He stood awkwardly, panting, his dick twitching. He looked uncomfortable.

I got up on my elbow and patted the mat. He came over and stood next to me. I reached under him and scratched his belly, just above his throbbing dick. Could I do it? I didn’t really know. I mean it seemed kind of gross to put my mouth on Lex, but he’d just had his mouth all over me, and that didn’t end up feeling so gross at all. Oh, and I still wanted some more! So it would be selfish to just have him lick on me till I got off all the way, leaving a streak of sweat from my "workout" all over the mat.

Lex was really whimpering now. "Oh, Doggy, I know what you want. Just a minute, let me work myself into it." I kept scratching his belly, and he kind of pushed forward, trying to get me to touch his dick. But I wasn’t sure. How could I do that? I lay back on the mat and just looked at his dick. It wasn’t huge or anything. It looked kind of innocent and reddish pink. It was thin, but as long as my dildo.

I wanted to fuck myself with my dildo some more. I reached for it. Lex licked it, and I brought it back to my pussy. He stood with his legs sprawled awkwardly, his dick so hard, he didn’t know what to do with it.

Well hell. I kept fucking myself with the dildo, and he stretched forward and licked my puss, and I just decided to do it. I touched his dick. He stopped licking me. He was acting funny, like he wasn’t sure if I was going to yell at him. "Come here, Doggy. Good boy." I mumbled as I put my face under his belly and started sucking his dick. It had a different smell, but it wasn’t a bad smell, just his smell. Just like my pussy was my smell. I kept jamming that dildo in, and it felt so good! I arched back, pushing it way in, and as horny as I was, I just decided to suck the dog off.

The dog wasn’t going to have any of that. He stepped back away from my head, and honed in between my legs. His dick twitched. He wanted to mount me! I had the dildo in me, so he couldn’t stick it in, but he was whining, kind of helpless, and it made me feel selfish. What could it hurt? Without thinking about it any further, I said, "Just a sec," and removed the dildo. I put my hands under my butt and thrust my pussy right out there in front of him. He climbed on me, his paws standing on my hips, he arched his back, and he started fucking me. It was weird! He was heavy, and his nails were scratchy. His nails cut into me a little when he shifted around, but he was very focused on the job at hand and he thrust very quickly. His doggy dick was narrow, and slipped around in me easily, but he seemed to get longer inside of me. He was standing above me and not having any problem fucking it in real deep, so I pulled my hands out from under my ass, and held his feet firm on me. I tried to protect my skin from his nails by blocking them with my hands. His butt arched up and down like a piston and his tail was flattened, sticking straight down. His dick was in me nice and deep and it felt soo good.

Then I felt something wild! His dick got really fat, I know now it was his knot, and Lex swelled way up and locked it inside of me. I put my right hand down so I could finger my clit. Intense. He pounded in and out a few more times, my clit was so hard, standing straight out, my own sex was all engorged with blood. Inside of me, it felt like a fire hydrant had burst, or maybe like he was pissing inside! I knew that wasn’t what it was, and it actually turned me on to think I’d gotten a dog off! He whimpered, and then he climbed back off me, and his nose went back to my cunt, and he started lapping me off. The thought of him lapping away all those sex juices got me off totally.

"Ooooh! Gaaawwwd!" I started cumming and the contractions washed through me. The dog just stood over me and lapped. Then he sat and leaned down on himself to lick off his own dripping dick, and to clean his balls.

I felt kind of stupid then. I don’t know why. Just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. I went to shower. I glanced at the clock. Shit! I had about ten minutes to get to class!

I was late of course. I did take a minute to rinse off, and I pulled on a skirt I brought and grabbed my sweater. Damn! I forgot to bring extra panties! I certainly wasn’t going to wear that sweaty thong! So I went to class without. I sat there in English 406 with all those stodgy grammar types and conjugated verbs... and right in the middle of class, a girl walked past who was wearing too much perfume. I sneezed. I felt a huge gush, and damn! All that doggy cum came out–soaking the back of my skirt. I resituated myself, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious when I stood up to leave. Oh my god. There was the smell! Lingering. I clamped my legs together and tried to concentrate on the lesson, but I couldn’t. All I could think about was Lex, and how diligently he’d lapped up all my sex juices. Wow! Wouldn’t he love licking up that mess I’d just made...

Thinking thoughts like that wasn’t helping at all! At the end of class, I tied my sweater around my waist and felt... well... squishy. I was sure everyone could smell me! I got up to make a quick exit, but Doug was waiting for me at the classroom door!

I didn’t really feel like talking to him! But I couldn’t exactly blow him off, so I walked out as gracefully as I could (with his dog’s cum rolling down my leg) and got into his car. He wanted me to go over to his place. He’d just gotten an A on a Calculus test and he wanted to celebrate!

Oh God. I so wanted to clean off my pussy, but I didn’t have any way to do it. I pressed my legs together. God, I hoped he couldn’t smell me!

"Did you go running today, Hon?"

"Oh yah. I did. Not my whole route, though. Wasn’t in the mood."

Doug continued making small talk in the car. He was really excited about his A, and he wanted to stop and get fast food.

"Can’t we just go through the drive thru and go home with it?"

"Oooh, Honey," he said, "You’re really horny, huh?"

Well I wasn’t really. At least not for him. I wanted to get somewhere I could wash off! But I wasn’t the kind of gal who usually turned my man down when it came to sex. I wanted him to ask more often! So I smiled and said, "Yah Baby. I can’t wait. Let’s just get something, and go home and fuck."

That pretty much shut him up. We ordered McDonald’s and was home in five minutes. Guess who was waiting at the door?

Doug unlocked the door and Lex came right out, wagging his tail, so happy to see us.

"Hey Lex," Doug said, patting the dog. "Whatcha got in your mouth?"

Oh my God! It was my dildo! I’d forgotten all about it.

"Lex!" The dog sat. Doug took the dildo out of his mouth. It was pretty much chewed up. "How the Hell’d he get that? Didn’t you leave it in the dresser?"

"I thought so." I said, walking inside as fast as I could. Lex was right behind me, and I could see he was trying to sniff at my skirt. "I have to use the bathroom," I mumbled as I walked away. I wanted to laugh so bad.

I went in and started running the water. "I’m going to grab a shower real quick!" I called.

Later, Doug and I did get our groove on, and while we were in the middle of it, Lex went into the bathroom and picked up my skirt. He carried it into the bedroom and put it on the floor beside the bed. Then he walked in a circle around it two times and sat down with the skirt under him. He started licking at the fabric–it seemed so loud. Oh God! I hope Doug didn’t notice. I suddenly became a hell of a lot more interested in fucking Doug, hoping I could get him off, then I could get up and put the skirt in the hamper.

Twenty minutes later, Doug was fast asleep and I got up to get the skirt. Lex stood and followed me out to the other end of the house where the washing machine was. He was sniffing at my crotch.

Oh shit! Lex couldn’t talk, but his behavior toward me felt suddenly very different. What had I done?

got out of the car and I have to admit, I sat like a lump. For some reason, I felt like I needed to get out of the car and run. I wanted to run inside the store. I wanted to say, "I think this guy is going to rape me. Call my Dad."

But how could I say that? How could I think that? Hank asked me if I wanted to fuck. That didn’t really make him a pervert, did it? Especially when I really did want to fuck and he could probably sense that. So how could I embarrass him in front of a shopkeeper by saying such a crazy allegation? How to explain away the sick feeling at the pit of my stomach. It was probably just guilt anyway. Guilt from feeling like I had molested and ruined a young boy. Oh but a boy with a man-cock who was dying to have me suck it again.

Hank came back to the car and we pulled out of the parking lot.

Then he took a wrong turn.

"Oh. I live that way." I said, trying to convince myself he was just making a mistake.

He kept driving. He was going the wrong way! The car smelled too much like cigarettes. I thought I was going to be sick.

I tried again. "Hank, I live back that other way. On East 76 th ."

He ignored me. He turned and was driving me down a narrow lane that wound back into the blackberry bushes.

"Where are you taking me?"

"I asked you. You want to fuck?"

"I said no."

"That was because you thought my parents were coming home. You didn’t want to get interrupted. But I can see it in you. You want me to throw you back there in the seat and fuck your intellectual brains out." He sneered. "Look at you." He gestured towards my backpack. "You have an algebra book in there, don’t you?"

I didn’t know what that had to do with anything.

"So what are you going to do?" My voice was strained. My hands were clammy. I didn’t want him to hurt me. I wanted to go home!

My old boyfriend never fucked me. The few times we were together, we messed around. We always made love. I looked around. He had me on some back road. I didn’t even know where the hell I was.

Should I jump out of the car and run for it?

Then he stopped the car. "You did it, didn’t you?" he turned to me, real mean.

"What?"

"You fucked Bobby."

"No I didn’t."

"You must have. How do you have an innocent kid go in one day from getting a boner in the tub to trying to force that boner down my mother’s face?"

"No I didn’t."

He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and straightened it. It was Bobby’s drawing. Of the phallus, and the mouth.

"Then why is it that all he wants to do is to draw stiff cocks and while he does it he says Dido, Dido, Dido. I know you did it."

I swallowed. I could imagine how it looked. "It wasn’t like that."

He laughed. I could smell the beer on his breath. "Oh but it was something like that. How do you fuck a retard?"

I was shocked that he would call his brother retarded. "I didn’t screw him. I didn’t."

He leaned into me and he kissed my mouth, roughly, sticking a stinking tongue into my mouth. "Oh but you wanted it, didn’t you, Bitch."

I started to grab the door handle. Maybe I could run for it.

"Don’t you dare!" He slammed his fist down on my fingers.

I yelped. Hank leaned over me and used his weight to shove me against the vinyl seat. He yanked my legs apart and grabbed my crotch like he was picking up a bowling ball. He was hurting me!

"Okay," I whimpered. "What do you want?"

He leered. "What I want is a piece of that smart ass of yours. I’m going to give you the fucking of your life. And fuck you for messing with my kid brother. Fuck you."

He struggled to pull my pants off me, and when he couldn’t get the buttons opened, he started yanking on the buttons so they gouged into me. My pants were too tight and he was probably going to have to tear them off. Then what? I felt helpless. What the hell should I do? I didn’t want to help him rape me. If I helped him, he could use it against me. But I didn’t want to resist and have him beat the crap out of me either.

What I wanted to do was to negotiate.

Shit. "Okay, Hank," I said, "let’s be reasonable. You don’t want to rape me and have me prosecute. I don’t want you to grope at me and throw me around. What if I just take my clothes off and you stick it in and do your thing....and we call it a night."

"Shut up, you bitch!" He slapped my face.

He was not going to beat the shit out of me! I grabbed the denim and wiggled out of my pants. What an asshole. What a fucking asshole.

Then he pulled down his zipper. "My bro isn’t the only one with a big pecker." He was right. It sprang out. It was just as big and just as purple and just as throbbing. Only this one was attached to a bastard.

He grabbed between my legs. I felt like a chunk of meat. Like an object. "I knew you were slimy wet, you whore," he said, feeling how wet seeing Bobby made my pussy. "You want this thing. I know you do."

I didn’t want his thing right there in the front seat with the handle on the door digging in my back and my butt sticking to the vinyl! But I was too frightened to say anything. If you’re going to do it, asshole, get ‘er done.

I was shaking. He struggled with his own pants, trying to open the zipper enough so it wouldn’t rake against him.

"Shit, shit shit" he said, trying to direct his thing inside my hole. It kept jabbing, but I was pretty small, and he was pretty big, and it wasn’t even lined up.

If I helped him put it in, would it be aiding and abetting a rape?

It was easier to just lie here and go along with it.

He slid in and I was so wet and Oh it felt delicious. I wanted to sigh against him. It had been so long. I wanted to cry out when he thrust it into me and catch his ass in my hands and push him inside me as deep as it would go. But no. He was taking me against my will. I said no. He was trying to punish me for violating Bobby. Or so he said. I had a feeling he’d about fuck anything that’d let him.

And he ground against me, his hard dick reaching deep, deep, deep inside. It clipped against my cervix, and I moaned, it was so sensitive.

"You like that, doncha Bitch?"

I didn’t want to struggle. I didn’t want to like it. I couldn’t help but moan. Oh oh oh, sweet Jesus, that felt so, so good. I was so wet, and he was slipping in and out. He was way bigger than my boyfriend last year. I opened my legs a little wider and shifted so that he wasn’t up against the steering wheel quite so much. Was I sick to help him? Wasn’t this supposed to be awful? How come I wanted to make it easier, to make it feel better?

"Shit." I gasped. "The handle is hitting me right in the small of my back. Fuck, but that feels good right there."

Then I froze. I didn’t mean to say that. He ground away on top of me, grunting. Maybe he hadn’t heard me. My back was jammed against the door. Shit. Shit. Shit. "Okay, okay already. I give." I gasped. "Let’s get comfortable for Christ’s sake."

Hank didn’t need to be told twice. He rolled over the back of the driver’s seat into the back and helped me get over. He pulled his pants all the way off, his dick sprang up and bumped into his belly. I straddled him.

On top of him, it went in deep, real deep, and I started calling out. I couldn’t help it. I arched my back and sank down on him. I pitched back and forth and he started groaning. My old boyfriend had never made sounds like that! Oh he was getting off and I was doing it to him. Oh what a feeling!

He gripped his hands on my ass and forced me down on it. He was rocking my world. "Ah, ah, ah, ah!" Every stroke seemed to tweak against a new spot. Amazing. My voice climbed in octaves as he clutched my ass cheeks and ground into the depths of my cunt. I didn’t know it could feel this way.

And the feeling kept growing and building. I thought of last night and the desperate way I’d tried to get at this with the inadequate end of my hair brush! Oh god, this was what women were designed to do! I grabbed his back and gasped. I clutched at him with the muscles at the opening of my pussy and I heard him gasp. "I’m going to cum!" he shouted. "Get off! Get off!" He pushed me to the side and stood with his dick twitching, and he started jacking it. Right in my face.

"What?" I said, annoyed, I could still feel the pulse between my thighs and I reached down to stroke it. He shoved his dick close to my mouth and squirted. Beads of white seemed to be shooting everywhere. I clamped my lips together. Son of a bitch!

"What the hell are you doing?" I’ve been slimed!

"Shit, shit, shit" he said, expelling his jizz. "You have some tight pussy. Oh my god, that’s a tight pussy."

When Hank laughed with the thrill of his orgasm, he sounded tender. Like Bobby. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a bastard. His penis pulsed and he squeezed out the last few drops, like milk coming out of a teat. He handed me Kleenex.

"Why’d you do that on my face??" I said, later, while we were pulling ourselves back together.

"I didn’t figure you were on birth control..."

He was right. I guess I could forgive him.

My pussy was throbbing. I put on my pants and covered it up, but I could feel where he had opened me. I wanted to run downhill, arms outstretched, calling "I’m a woman! I’m a woman! I get it now!"

I smiled, grateful it was dark. I didn’t really want Hank to know he’d pleased me so much. I didn’t want him to know this was all so new to me and I’d really liked it. I got back into the front seat and pulled the seatbelt around me, holding that good feeling close.

"Wanna grab a burger? I don’t know about you, but after that, I’m starving."

I smiled. "Then will you take me home?"

I reached down and took it in my hand. It was big and it sprang against my fingers, but I didn’t want to play with it like I had wanted to play with Bobby’s. Hank wasn’t a nice person. I aimed it towards my vagina. "There." I said. Was that too much help? Why would I help him? What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I fight him, jump out of the car and try hiding in the bushes? Because that’s a fucking blackberry bramble out there, Diane, and if I jumped into that briar, and he jumped out after me, I’d be torn to shreds.

I didn’t want that. I didn’t want that at all. But how could I complain? I couldn’t imagine myself standing there, saying "oh but no thank you. This son of yours is a perv. He just spied on me because he thought I was the type to suck his mentally handicapped brother off, then when I didn’t, he wanted to throw me down and do me." Words would not suffice. Nervously, I grabbed my backpack. It was heavy with my math book, but I forgot to do my assignment.

true with him--he was in Special Ed). He couldn’t help that his body was responding to his hormones, sending blood to fill up that dick--that dick too big for him to fully appreciate.

God, I really needed to shove something inside my cunt! I got up and walked over to the dresser. My hairbrush. The handle had a good shape to it, and I’ve used it before, but afterwards, it was going to need a good soaking to get my pussy juices off the bristles.

I laid back down and tentatively pushed the handle inside. Sometimes my cunt seemed ample, but other times–it was crazy–but it felt like a tampon would rub me raw. The handle of the brush had a bit of a curve to it, but it wasn’t shaped the way I wanted. I craved something not so tapered. Bored, I slid it in and out for a minute. It wasn’t doing a thing for me. Being seventeen really sucked.

For one thing, the hairbrush handle wasn’t nearly long enough! This time--my thoughts on Bobby and his big man-dick--I really wanted something that could prod around in my depths, the parts I couldn’t reach with a finger. I needed a carrot. I needed a cucumber. I tried to remember, but I was fairly certain the vegetable bin was empty.

Restless and edgy, I eventually fell asleep.

When I got to Bobby’s, he ran out to the car the moment his parents pulled up in the driveway. "Dido! Dido!" he yelled.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the house. "Hank! Hank! This Dido!"

He was introducing me. I put out my hand and smiled. "My real name’s Diane."

I was looking at a gorgeous young man, probably a year or two older than I was. He had dark, curly hair like Bobby’s, and his nose was a little more prominent.

"I’m Bobby’s brother. I go to Wazzu and I’m home from college for the weekend."

"Oh."

"We wouldn’t need a sitter, but I’ve got to cram for a test. I’m gonna disappear in my room. You won’t even know I’m here."

"Okay."

Hank grinned, "Anyway, he seems to like your company." Hank motioned at his brother.

I looked at Bobby. He was wearing filmy soccer shorts and his hard-on jutted out like a rhinoceros in the middle of a room. Don’t notice the rhinoceros!

Nervous, I acted like I didn’t know what the hell Hank was talking about, and I leaned over to Bobby. "You wanna draw?"

Hank disappeared into a room down the hallway. Weird. What kind of a brother would point out his embarrassing boner? I took Bobby’s hand. Maybe he meant something else. I couldn’t be certain.

We went into the living room where he had a desk scattered with his crayons and paper. There were new drawings hanging on his bulletin board. He pointed to one of a girl wearing a black and purple dress. "That Dido."

"That’s me? That’s great Bobby."

I pulled up a chair from the table so we could both sit together at his desk. I started making a picture of a race car, Bobby’s favorite sport.

"Aha!" He exclaimed, after a few minutes. With a bold black crayola he had drawn a primitive phallus and a girl with her mouth wide open and her teeth showing. He started laughing

Oh my god!

"Oh Bobby." Quietly I took his picture and shoved it under my drawing of the race car. What had I done?? Had he been drawing pictures like this since I was here three weeks ago?? I was mortified. "Here, honey," I said, "draw me a picture of the Indy 500."

He laughed and pointed at the picture that he already made. "That Bobby."

"Please, Bobby. Let’s draw Mark Martin."

Somehow I was able to divert his attention and he started a picture of his favorite driver.

Shit! I sat there, my heart racing. I knew the picture was primitive, but it was definitely his penis, all sprung, and it looked like he wanted to insert it into that mouth he had made with the pretty red lips. I was so embarrassed!

I got up for a glass of water and I quickly crumpled his drawing and threw it into the wastebasket.

I had really messed up his thinking! One of the things I liked most about Bobby was his innocence. He was like a ten year old and I hadn’t even realized he was almost my age until I babysat him last time. I cooked chicken soup and we ate it with saltines in front of the television. I sat, my stomach in knots and we watched Hee Haw until it was time for me to put him to bed.

I wasn’t looking forward to this.

"C’mon, Bobby," I said reluctantly, "Let’s get ready for bed."

Bobby hopped up from the couch, a grin stretched from ear to ear. I glanced down. His pants tented out. The rhinoceros had come back into the room.

No bath tonight. That’s what got it all started the last time. I pulled his covers back and found his pajama bottoms under his pillow. "Let’s get ready for bed." I said, trying to convince myself he was going to climb right into bed.

He started laughing. I turned and he had pulled off his clothes and was jumping around, his big dick bouncing around. "Ha ha!"

"Bobby!" I said sternly. "You need to get your pajamas on. Here."

I handed him his pants and obediently he started pulling them on. He awkwardly pulled them up to his hard-on and tucked the band under his balls, his magnificent dick springing out above it. "Ha ha!" He put his hands on either side of his cock and thrust his hips forward. He was admiring how long he’d made it.

And it was fascinating. I had to admit. The head was almost as big as a golf ball, and it was engorged and purplish. Then the scar from when he was circumcised, still a little pinker than the rest of it. Then his marvelous shaft, ridged veins that stood out. Under different circumstances, with a different person, in a different place, I would have been happy to fall on my knees at his feet and to take that beautiful dick into my hands and just stroke its length, marveling at the miracle that can make such a bold erection.

But with Bobby, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I’d already messed him up. I walked over to him, and I pulled the waistband of his pajamas up and over the huge dick. Oh I wanted to touch it, to stroke it, to bend over and have him thrust it into my aching cunt.

Because yes, I was soaking wet. I could feel the gurgle of juices move around between my pussy lips as I crossed the room. Did my period start? I felt so wet, I wasn’t sure. But it wasn’t the right time of the month. Oh, no, that was my sex calling to me... Oh Diane, go ride this beautiful cock.

Bobby wanted me to play with it too. He pointed at it and smiled. "Dido! Dido!" He called, wanting me to notice. "Uhn-uhn-uhn."

I remembered he made that sound while I sucked him off.

I could sense his disappointment as I took his chin and made him look me in the eye. "Bobby, let’s go brush our teeth."

We went into the bathroom. I watched the front of his pajamas, and the bulge didn’t subside. He deliberately bumped it against the side of the sink while he turned on the water. He stood with it pressed into the porcelain, and rocked slightly for self-stimulation. I wondered what it would feel like to bob against that hard, springy cock. I wondered what it would feel like inside. Yes, it would definitely reach further than that handle of my hair brush! I felt a trickle as my pussy leaked into my panties.

I handed him a wash cloth. He wiped his face and his hands. "Okay, Dido, Time for bed!" His voice was bright and chipper. I was sure he remembered the last time we’d done this. The last time, when I succumbed...

He went in and laid down on the bed, his legs tight together. His dick stood straight up. Bobby pointed at it, and made an "uh-uh-uh" sound like a toddler wanting to be picked up. I knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted me to free that erection, straddle him and teach him how to fly. And oh how I wanted to. But I couldn’t.

I leaned over to kiss him goodnight, and he grabbed my head. "Uh-uh-uh" he said, pushing my head down, right over his cock. He used his other hand to pull his dick up and out of the elastic. "Uh-uh-uh."

There it was! All hard and beautiful, all in my face. I could smell the soft smell of baby shampoo. I wanted to stick out my tongue and lick it, to take it in my face, to encircle it with my hand and stroke, stroke, stroke it and let him get off. Oh how I wanted to. But I had to set a good example.

"No, Bobby." I said, with all the resolve I could muster. "I can’t. I just can’t."

I pulled my head away, blinking away tears. I’d done this to him. I’d taken his innocence! And now, what was left for him to do but to be exasperated and feel incomplete.

"Oh Bobby, I’m so sorry." I brushed his soft cheek with my lips and left the room. Before I turned out the light and closed the door, I could see that his erection stood as tall as ever. Doesn’t he even know how to jack it off? I felt so bad for him.

I didn’t realize how hard my heart was beating. I sat down on the couch. Oh my god. It was wild to sit there, just thinking that dick was standing there, wasting away. Stroke it, Bobby, stroke it.

The door opened, and Hank came out. He walked into the kitchen to get a beer. "I needed a break." He grinned at me.

I sat a little straighter on the couch. I’d forgotten he was here! Did he know what just happened? I tried to watch All in the Family, thankful that the laugh track filled up the room with sound.

Hank sat in the chair near Bobby’s desk. Suddenly I remembered the drawing! What if Hank found it in the garbage? I wanted to get up and scrounge in the trash, but I couldn’t do that while he was watching.

Hank started watching the show. I was so glad he couldn’t read my thoughts. I hoped he couldn’t sense my panic. What would he think if he knew I gave Bobby a blow job the last time I was here?

"You know, you passed." Hank said, after awhile.

"Huh?"

"Oh my mom. She had some hair-brained idea that you done something to Bobby. I didn’t have any college homework. She wanted me to stay in my room and listen to the monitor."

The monitor? What, like a baby monitor?

I couldn’t believe my ears. Hank was here to spy on me!

"But you passed with flying colors." He sounded disappointed. "Bobby’s been doing that to my mom too, pushing her mouth towards his penis...making that uh-uh-uh sound. Wonder where he got that?"

"Well he’s maturing." I said, trying to offer a logical explanation. "He looks like a kid, and he thinks like a kid, but his body’s changing into a man."

"I know." Hank said, looking at the can in his hands. "It must be rough on him. He doesn’t understand. Anyway, my mom wanted me to be here tonight, to make sure that you didn’t do anything to–to– you know, to violate him."

I froze. I felt my lip trying to tremble. I tried to control it. I tried to look normal.

"Hank, I’m interested in teaching in Special Ed." I said, in what I hoped was my most convincing voice. "I want to help kids like Bobby. I don’t want to violate them."

My heart raced. I smelled the wetness from where I’d creamed my panties when I saw his hard-on jutting out like the statue of liberty. I wondered if Hank had the same size cock. After all, they were brothers. Oh! I needed a man.

I was totally uncomfortable. "When’s your parents coming home?"

"They should be home anytime. They just went to a movie."

I didn’t like this. I’d been set up! Hank purposely said, "anyway he seems to like your company" to make me notice his hard-on, to check to see if I was some kind of perv who would suck and fuck an innocent’s cock! I was outraged. He was spying on me!!

My hands were clammy and my stomach ached. Diane, you were a perv. You just didn’t get caught. You sucked his fucking cock last time and slurped up all his jizz.

"You want to fuck?"

I looked up, surprised at the boldness of his question. "What?"

Hank stood up. "You want to come with me and fuck inside my room?"

Oh my god! Did I want to fuck?

"Oh no..." I said, awkwardly. After all, the creep had just been spying on me. I didn’t even know how to turn down a request like that? Was I supposed to say, ‘Oh no, I don’t fancy a fuck right now, but thanks anyway. Thanks for asking’?

I was glad when Hank grabbed another beer from the fridge and went back into his room. I wondered if he could still hear inside Bobby’s room. I wondered if he ever heard Bobby jack off.

I was so grateful when the door opened and Bobby’s folks came home. Hank shot a look to his rather worried mom that must have been something like "oh it’s okay Mom, this isn’t the reason why" and I tried not to see the look pass between them. I tried not to show that I knew this whole evening had only been a test. A test to see if I violated young boys.

I couldn’t help but think, "I would if I could, but I can’t." And I thought of Bobby. Springing around with his erection banging against his leg. I tried not to think about it.

Think I am stringing out along and you want something more? Stay tuned. Part three will be posted in the "forced sex" section...

What a twisted, twisted night this was turning out to be.

I felt the creaminess between my legs and yes, I wanted to fuck, but I didn’t even know this guy.

Oh he wanted some more. Oh my god. What had I done?

drugs her body would absorb before she expelled the liquid. I wanted to know if Marilyn was so effective at holding the water in that she accidentally killed herself, or if she truly intended to kill herself with her intestines full of the hazardous water. I wanted to know if Marilyn expelled the water after she took her last breath and all her body’s muscles relaxed, or if there was a plug in her ass, holding it in. Was the liquid actually still inside her body when the police found her? How? I wanted to write to that police drama "Cold Case" to see if they’d reinvestigate the details.

Now I am curious about all of these things because I have become an ass afficionado. I wasn’t one until recently, when I met my new man and learned that he was fascinated by porn. I asked him to show me one of his movies, and when he did, I just looked at him and said, "Oh YOU want some anal sex, don’t you?" He hung his head, and looked rather fishy and boyish.

"I’ll give it a try" I shrugged and pointed at the screen, "but let me work on it. I know she’s acting like it’s about the same as fucking her pussy, but you and I know that’s not the way it works. That hole is an exit."

I didn’t want to disappoint him. I wanted to grin and act all gung ho, but I worried that it was going to hurt like hell. I knew from looking at the length of the scene in the movie, he hoped to spend some quality time in my tight little ass, gripping the pale skin of my hips as he rode me hard. I knew that he really wanted to slam it to me. What had I promised to do?

We watched the rest of the movie and one young woman was so enthusiastic about her ass-fucking that she screamed and gyrated, trying to take in more. "Deeper! Deeper!" She screamed and panted. Another male actor was delighted to stick his dick in her too, so there she was, all over the big screen, taking in not just one dick, but two. Holy shit! These little sluts in these movies had no idea how high expectations are raised when our men see these shameless fuck sessions. Shit oh dear. And on the big screen, it was suddenly wall to wall asshole stretched out by two marvelous huge cocks. Complete with the surround sound shrieking "Oh yes, oooh yes, oh Baby Baby Baby."

My own man pulled out his 9-inch dick and started stroking, holding his hand loose and massaging the ridge at the base like he was about to start a fire. I loved to watch him masturbate, but I quickly took advantage of the situation to get my own pussy pumped. I leaned over a chair and he stood behind me, fucking my pussy doggy style, watching the actress call out. She ultimately took the cocks that had just been deep inside her ass, swallowed them down her throat, and exclaimed that they tasted great. Oh my goodness! My man pulled out and squirted his jizz all over my ass.

I was more than a little uncomfortable. My man was into sodomy. A small-dick boy had poked me in the ass once or twice, but after watching the video, I knew this was going to be different. I thought about how hard my man got, and how he would be sure to fill me to capacity. I was sure that it was going to feel like he was skewering me up to my neck. I had an image of myself on a rotisserie, his dick shoved up my ass, spinning over a bed of hot coals. I was skeptical that I would be able to show the same level of enthusiasm as the actress in the movie. I didn’t even think anyone could pay me enough to show the same level of enthusiasm as the actress in the movie. (How much do these girls make anyway?)

My one experience with ass-fucking had been confusing. The boy who had tried it was sort of grossed out, thinking "Ew! Is it going to smell like shit?" Once inside, he came quick and sloppy, with loud exclamation, like he’d just slammed his dick into an electric pencil sharpener, then pulled it out all pointed and done. My man now wouldn’t do me like that. His dick was fat! With my previous experience, there was an embarrassing time after the initial penetration of running to the toilet, making gassy noises, and feeling like I was going to ultimately mess all over the floor. Not acceptable.

I was going to have to teach myself to take it up the ass, and take it hard. I was going to have to learn to clean it thoroughly so I could be confident there wasn’t going to be an awful mess. I was going to have to be convincing or my man was going to be terribly disappointed and I was going to feel like a loser.

I began researching enemas. My goal was to be able to fuck my man like the girl in his movie fucked that hard dick, able to suck it off after the fact. I tried the small, cold enemas from the drug store shelf. I stood there in line, anxious and self-conscious, trying to make sure the woman behind the counter wasn’t the same gal who’d sold me one the week before. (I’d lied that I was using them to prepare myself for surgery.) I wasn’t impressed that the liquid was filled with diarrhetics and that the amount of liquid was probably about a cup and a half. What good was that going to do?

I checked their effectiveness by slamming myself in the ass with my smallest dildo until the muscles in my ass contracted and I expelled the last of the liquid. I found these enemas short-lived, and only marginally effective. And I wasn’t sure I was making any progress. This dildo was much smaller than my man, I used lots of lube, but it was still piercing and invasive. How did the movie girls do it? How did they keep going at it for most of an hour (my man says filming those scenes can take ten hours a day) and how in the hell did they learn to enjoy it?

What was I, a fucking wimp?

I went on the internet. Before long, I found several gay sites with plenty of instruction and a brown, unobtrusive box arrived in the mail. I opened the carton in the privacy of the bathroom on a quiet morning when my man had to work. I took out the bag, the clips to hold it up, and the long tube. At the end of the tube I screwed on an attachment like a narrow straw. I undressed, leaving my clothes in a pile by the door, and filled the bag with warm water. I quickly learned that the water had to be pretty much body temperature. Those skin surfaces inside were not used to touching anything cooler or warmer. Enemas, even as warm as bath water burned like a son of a bitch and I suspected they seared off a layer of skin. I soaped up the nozzle so that it was slippery enough to insert into my tight ass. (Oh shit how would I ever get his goddamn dick inside?) I pushed the water in from the bottle and then pushed it out. Lather, rinse, repeat. Another side effect was that the water didn’t all expel. A lot of it was absorbed by my body and some of it just slurped around. After about an hour, I really had to pee.

But I thought I was making progress. Before long I could put over a pint of water inside. Some of the articles on the internet said that true enema fanatics could take almost a gallon of water at a time, until their bellies expanded. They really got off on how long they could hold it inside. Some of them made mixtures of water and coffee or water and wine, counting on the absorbing properties of the colon to make them either jittery or drunk. Absolutely perverse! I wondered if they knew about Marilyn Monroe and her barbiturates. The article that suggested these methods did warn that you had little control over how much of the extra chemical your body was going to absorb inside your bowels. No shit!

I listened to an interview with porn star Jenna Haze. She was on Playboy Radio talking to Tiffany Granath. She disclosed that what she did to prepare for an anal sex scene was a combination of fasting and enemas. She said she’d never had an embarrassing experience on a set. I got a pad of paper and took notes.

Nervously, I decided I’d be ready. I called my man I’d be ready for a round of sex on Friday night. Thursday, at noon, I ate a salad, then after that, I cut off the solid foods. Yogurt for dinner. I did one of the box enemas that evening, and the diarrhetic went right through me. I evacuated most of what I had inside, then went to bed. I wanted to masturbate, then thought I’d better save it. Let the tension build.

Friday noon, I did another enema, water only, using a hot water bottle system that I purchased at Wal-Mart. I filled the pink bladder with tepid water. I attached the hoses and a nozzle that inserted into my ass. It sprayed water in several directions. Naked, I leaned over in the bathtub, the bladder of water under my knees and pushed on the bladder. The water started flowing through the tubes and filling up my bowels.

The feeling was intense. I’d already gotten most of the debris out the night before, so now it was more a "final rinse." The first water was a little cool and I could distinctively feel the water spread into my colon. Awesome! I knelt on the bladder and pushed a little more water in. I started to feel a little full, and I wanted to distract myself from the feeling so I could push more water inside after a minute.

I put my hand down and started diddling on my clit. Good distraction! I clenched the muscles of my anus to hold the water in, and rubbed my cliterous. I held the water, held the water, held the water. I rubbed my clit, rubbed my clit, rubbed my clit. I pushed on the bladder and forced a little more water inside. I rubbed my clit some more. I folded the rubber bladder in half to push the last bit of water inside. I thought I was holding about a quart! I felt so—so stretched. It was nice and cool inside. Water dripped a little from the nozzle, rolling cool water over my hand while I messed with my clit so I could hold it as long as possible.

Then it felt sudden that I needed to expel the water. I stood, stepped out of the bathtub and perched on the toilet. I pushed some of the water out, then clenched my ass shut. The longer I could hold the water, the better a rinse it would be. On the toilet, I played with my clit a little more. I felt all electrified and in tune with my body. I got the hair clippers and spread my thighs so I could trim my pubic hairs. I challenged myself to hold the water that little while longer. I felt the delicious vibration of the clippers as I trimmed my bush to about an eighth an inch. After I finished, I rolled my clit between my forefinger and thumb. I felt the fullness of the water in my ass.

I pushed the water out, as much as I could.

Oh dear! I wasn’t counting on liking the enema so much. I filled the enema bag again, this time with slightly warmer water. I inserted the nozzle in my asshole, and started pushing on the bag with my knee and forearm. The water squirted out, a jet flying off to the left and hitting the side of the tub. I pushed the nozzle inside a little deeper, then the water started filling me to capacity. I put my right hand between my thighs and I kept masturbating. The intensity against my clit was so effective at taking my mind off the filling feeling in my butt. I got one of my man’s razors and shaved the line of hairs that grew inside my pussy lips. I held the water in, held the water in. I arched my back as much as I could and pushed on the bladder of water to force every drop of water inside. Oh, I was such a good girl to take all this water! I reached back between my legs and tentatively shaved the circle of fine hairs from around my anus.

Oh fuck! I was so, so full! My rectum was all full of water and I could feel the water push up into my lower intestine, farther than a dick could probably reach. I pushed on the bladder of water some more, and I could even feel the water push more inside and my tummy started to distend. Oh fuck. This was about as full as I was going to get. I stood to cross the bathroom, clenching my ass closed. Oh! Oh! The water splashed out behind me, all over the bathtub.

I squatted and released the water. Oh it felt great. It really felt great. There was a little white pasty mucus from my bung hole coming out with the water, but other than that, I was spotlessly clean. After I was sure I had expressed all of the water, I walked naked into my bedroom and got a dildo from the drawer in the nightstand.

I went back into the bathtub. I soaped up the dildo and then I squatted down onto it, pushing it right into my butt. Oh my god. Oh fuck. It felt great! I had a squeaky clean ass, and the dildo slid in. I started rocking it in and out. Oh there was a little to push out. I got up, the dildo plugging my ass and went to the toilet. I pushed. Nothing much. More clear mucus. I went back to the bathtub, rinsed the hot water bag out and filled it a quarter way with warm water. I pushed the dildo back into my asshole and started riding it. Oh, oh oh yes!!! I think I’m gonna like this!

I got done with my little session in the tub and I laid on the bed. Oh my god. I was wonderfully exhausted. The enema was so thorough, and expelling it was it’s own little reward. I felt deliciously scoured clean. After a brief rest on the bed, I felt energized, and ready to take on the world.

I could hardly wait for my man to get home from work. I was fasting all day, so I sipped at my Diet Coke and chewed ice. In the middle of the afternoon, I peed and made sure I didn’t have anything else inside my colon by pushing the dildo back inside and working it some more. I came, and it was a different sort of cum. I wanted to experiment some more, but I decided to hold out and wait for my man.

He arrived with a bottle of white wine. I drank a glass. It went right through me, since I hadn’t eaten for almost 28 hours. My man was going to get the fuck of his life, but he didn’t know it, he didn’t have any idea. I drank another glass of wine, and I was feeling a buzz.

Of course I had already flashed out the credit card at Victoria’s Secret, so I had quite the show for him that night. I stripped down to a pale pink teddy that laced up the front. I took my time unlacing it, flashing my perfect 36C breasts. He took my ruddy nipples into his mouth and sucked, long and hard. Electricity shot right through me. I was ready to cum right then! I wasn’t surprised. Doing the enema had made me so aroused, and I’d carried that with me all afternoon. The idea of his big cock ramming in and out of me the same way that the girl had taken it in the video, well that was a huge turn-on for me too. Still wearing the teddy, I took his hand and led him into the bedroom.

I turned on the lights. He looked at me funny. "No way you’re going to miss a second of this." Men are always so much more visual than women, but I’ll admit that I wanted to see that big thick dick of his slipping in and out of my ass. He stripped off his clothes. He already had a boner stretching out, as big as the state of Florida.

"You sure you’re ready."

I remembered the several bags of water I’d deliriously flushed through my system. "Oh I’m ready. Yes baby, I’m ready."

The wine was going through me too. He’d brought my glass into the bedroom, so I took another sip. Then he picked me up and put me down on the bed, on my back. He carefully unlaced the rest of the teddy, and unsnapped the crotch of my teddy. "Take that thing off, will you?"

I pressed my breasts together and offered him a good shot of my cleavage, my nipples jutting out, then I pulled the teddy off over my head. I tossed it in the corner. I laid back on the bed, ready for him to do his thing.

He started by trailing fingers softly across my skin. He was picking up the natural electrical currents inside of me and swirled them all together. He teased me by circling his thumb around my nipples, then he sucked on each one in turn. I could fell that my pussy was already soaked. I wanted him so bad.

He took me vaginally at first. He put it in, and pushed my left leg up high, so that when he went inside me missionary style, he had my leg to hold. It went up over his shoulder, my ankle by his ear and it enabled us to both see the penetration of his cock into my love canal. He slid it in slowly, and then with one leg up and the other down, he could come at me from an angle. He "stirred" my juices with his beautiful cock. I could see him roll his hips in a circle as he directed his dick to hit the walls of my cunt, all the way around. Oh it felt wonderful! Then with my legs spread so, he put his hand on my clit, right above where he was grinding it, and he started to trace tiny circles around that little head as he stroked his dick in and out. Oh! Oh! Oh!

I don’t have any trouble cumming over and over, but it was rare for a man to take the time to find out how many times I could cum. My man was as patient as they made them. He could stroke me with my ankle up by his ear and stroke, stroke, stroke, sliding it in and out so slo-o-owly that we both were gasping with pleasure. Then he shifted around and pushed the other ankle up, so that his hips were mashing into my pussy and I was on fire. He fucked and fucked like a madman.

"Hey, you, I want some of that in my ass." I told him.

"You do? Oh shit." He kept pumping away, now invigorated by visions of asshole plums dancing in his head. "Shit Girl, well let me take some of the edge off first."

He flipped me over so I was on my hands and knees. He stood by the side of the bed and entered me doggy style. Oh! Oh! This was my favorite position, and he was still inside my cunt. I was so wet, I made slurp, slurp, slurpy sounds as he glided in and out. I knelt with my ass up, leaning against my forearms on the bed. I gripped the bedspread to hold my position. He was jamming at me so hard, he physically moved me forward on the mattress. I didn’t want to slam my head against the headboard.

He was hitting all the perfect spots and as hot as I was, I started to cum. I clenched his dick hard with my vaginal muscles as I clenched the blankets with my hands. I felt my body force out more fluids–I was cumming and dripping all over the place. My body had absorbed a lot of water from those enemas. I was saturated. It felt fabulous. Who needs to drink eight glasses of water a day when you can push three or four into your asshole and hold them in and take the liquid that way? I felt like I had a new lease on life.

My man pulled his twitching dick out of my vagina and he started jacking it. "I’m going to cum!" he announced, his hand sliding back and forth in the pattern he always used. His palm brushed past the head, and I saw it bulge and cum started spurting out. I stuck my tongue out and he aimed at my mouth, and jets of cum flew onto the bed, some of them hitting my mouth. I took my forefinger and scraped the white cream off my cheek and tasted it. God, I loved eating cum!

Then my man positioned my ass up, doggy style again. "I’m going to start teasing you a little, okay Baby?"

I nodded. I was still recovering from that great climax, but it would only take a moment for me to be ready again. He wanted me kneeling doggy style with my ass over the edge of the bed. He stood behind me, his own dick still pulsing out beads of cum. He was softer, but not completely soft. I knew that he would be rigid in no time. My man slicked his hands up with lubricant. We kept a pump bottle on the nightstand. He leaned down and studied my spotless asshole. He put his thumb on it, and slowly started tracing a circle around it. I leaned into his hand, enjoying feeling the trace around that tight hole. Then he inserted a finger. I would have normally recoiled against the sudden invasion into a hole designed as an exit, but after all my preparations, I was ready. It was like he was coming home. I wanted more.

"Come on, Baby! I’m ready. None of this sissy stuff."

Then two fingers. He inserted them like he was picking up a bowling ball. Two in my asshole, one in my cunt. Oh it felt good! The ridges of his knuckles pressed against the sphincter muscle, and I put my hands on my ass cheeks and held my asshole open to him. "Ahaa!" He said, excited, and he quickly expanded the opening, this time using two fingers from his left hand, and two fingers from his right. I was going to be able to take this, I thought. So far, everything felt great.

He kept inserting lubricated fingers inside my gaping asshole. I was bucking against him, wanting more. I looked down to check on him. His dick was standing at attention again. "Fuck that ass!" I told him. "Fuck me in my ass."

I didn’t need to tell him again. He dashed a squirt of lube across his dick and another on my asshole. He used his hand to spread the lube across his dick. I knew that the second erection would last and last. His glistening hard dick was just inches from my asshole. He was ready to plunge it in.

And Ooh I was so ready! I’m not going to tell you that it was anything like a good pussy fucking, because it’s not. It’s incredibly different. There’s a whole layer of skin blocking that dick from my cunt, but all the wires are still there. And having everything clean and a little wine in my system....ooooh, I could take it all night! My Baby stuck it in and Yes, it felt uncomfortable for maybe ten seconds, but he just held it there stiff as a pole and let my body adjust to the size. Then when I started rocking against it–the lightening started sizzling and rockets went off. If it started to feel a little intense, I just did what I did in the tub, I diddled my clit, letting the fireworks there distract me momentarily from his sheer size.

For a little while, I just felt slammed. Yes, it felt good, but I was at his mercy, you know what I mean? I couldn’t move much, I couldn’t react. I just crouched there on the edge of the bed, my ass over the side, his dick slamming into my asshole. It felt like almost too much. Then oh shit, it started to feel glorious. He reached around me and started jamming on my clit with his hand. I arched my back and I felt like the girl in the movie, "Deeper, Baby, deeper!"

He grabbed onto my hips and started slamming harder and faster. He pushed my lower back down, and I think he could feel the tip of his penis pushing to bust out, he could feel the motion through my flesh. The idea of that big ole dick of his just ramming my asshole, well it was such a turn-on. I looked at him through my legs, my ass high, trying to see what it looked like, his pink shaft disappearing inside of me, over and over. I couldn’t see him directly, not from that position, but I could see the reflection of him in the mirror on the inside of the door. He stood directly behind me, his hard dick lined up, pistoning in and out. Oh my god, it felt so good!

I couldn’t get enough! I clenched my sphincter around his dick and heard him catch his breath. Oooh that must have felt so tight! I clenched and clenched, gripping his dick with my tight, pink ass... "Give it to me!"

Oh sweet mother of god. The orgasm was so fucking insane! I felt it build and build, the clenching was starting to set it off. I could feel his dick hitting my G-spot, but it was coming at it from the wrong angle, and a layer of skin blocked it off. It felt exotic, like fucking my pussy through a layer of cloth. And from all the prepping I’d done with the enema a few hours before, my body was ready to explode! I felt the sensations build, higher and higher, and then there wasn’t much I could do. I clung to the layers of blanket on the bedspread, my man fucking and fucking from behind, the mattress slipping off the side from perpetual motion. I was completely absorbed by the intensity of having his dick in my ass.

The orgasm started washing through me, and I was its victim. It came over me like a wave, overpowering all my senses. There was a slight trickle of sweat rolling down my face. I closed my eyes, flooded with sensations. All I could feel was pushing and resisting, my body caught in a tug of war. I was about to bust! I was overwhelmed by the slam of his hard dick and my muscles clenching as hard as they could. I had no control. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" My fingers balled into fists. I started spasming against the soft cotton of my quilt. I wanted to push, push, push against him and he resisted by gripping the flesh of my ass like a pillow and jamming away. Phenomenal. I was crying out, yelling from the intensity, not wanting him to stop. I was pushing so hard, pushing, pushing, pushing. Cum started flying out, like jets of clear piss. My man saw the fluids flying. I could feel his dick tighten. "Shit Baby, shit! I’m gonna cum!" He gripped my hips, thrust his rod as deep as it would go and blew his load. I was still writhing and pulsing from my own orgasm and he more or less fell over me. We collapsed in a tussle of panting and heaving breasts. I couldn’t move. Muscles in my legs started twitching involuntarily. The flutter in my tummy didn’t quit for almost an hour.

and doing hand jobs on my willing cock was her current lesson.  “I want to learn to do it nice.”

“You do, Vonnie, you do.” 

But I was more than willing to give it another shot, to let her practice her skills again. 

Darla came into the dining room.  Vonnie had noticed my erection while I was eating dinner, and she had just dropped to her knees on the floor under the table.  “Good girl, Baby,” Darla said to her daughter, studying how she’d encircled my shaft with her small hand.  “That’s the way a man likes it.”

These two were a trip!  I couldn’t even start to get hard, and they were on it, one of them or the other of them, making sure I “got taken care of.”  Vonnie was wetting her hands with her mouth.

“Try using some butter,” I suggested.  There was a softened cube on a plate for the dinner rolls.

“Yes, Mr. Johnson,” Vonnie said. 

I scooted back from the table a little to give the girl more room.  She was a slight little thin thing.  She stood and got a pat of butter.  “Is this about right?”  She held the sample out to me.

“That’s good, Vonnie.  Spread it down over the shaft.  Wonderful.”

Darla came over to supervise.  She was making sure her daughter learned the ropes.  Darla knelt between my legs.  She unfastened my belt, and opened my pants so she could take them off completely. “He’ll be more comfortable if he gets his pants off.”  She explained.

“You ready to learn something new, Honey Child?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Okay, Baby Girl, then I want you to learn to use your mouth.  That’s called a blow job.  But you don’t really blow.  Watch Mama.”

“Yes, Mama.”  Vonnie took my pants, folded them and draped them on the back of a chair.  She knelt beside her mother.  I opened my legs, my erection boinging between the two eager women.  Vonnie hadn’t been very enthusiastic about the lessons when they first began, but as she got more skilled and could jack me with practiced strokes, she was definitely pleased with herself.  She still didn’t like the taste of the cum, but her mother had coached her that a man would expect her to swallow, so she was trying.  I got a little bit of a kick at watching her make the funny faces.  Sometimes her mama made her stick her tongue out to show it was all gone, that she wasn’t trying to spit it out into a napkin. 

“What now, Mama?”

“First, you take it into your mouth.  You want to hold your teeth open really really wide, to make sure they don’t brush against his penis, ‘cause that will hurt.  If you keep practicing, you’ll get it.”  Darla went on to demonstrate.  “You want to rock your head up and down, making sure you keep your mouth as wet as you can.”  She wiped her face.  “There’s a little butter on it, so it’s pretty greasy,” she said, “You try it.”

Vonnie opened her mouth wide, and slid it down over the fat head of my cock.  “Now, Vonnie,” Darla said, “hold your lips close around it, so that you’re stroking it with your lips.  Get a little suction going, but not too much at first.  You can increase it as you go.”

Vonnie was doing her damnedest to follow her mother’s instructions.  “Not too fast. Go about the same speed that he showed that he liked you to use your hand.  Again, every man has his own style, but once you learn it on one man, you can pick up what the next man likes by listening to how he breathes.”

It was fascinating to listen as Darla told her daughter how to give me head.  It was amazing to see how hard she was trying.  I’d never thought before about how a woman might gauge her performance on the different grunts and sighs a man might make.  I didn’t know that she might use her tongue to feel for the pulse quicken as the dick got really full of blood and ready to blast the cum down her throat.  Darla showed her daughter how to hold her hand at the base of the shaft if it started to go too deep down her throat.  She showed her how to cradle the balls.  Darla held them like they were a cup of dice and jiggled them around.  “Never be too rough with a man’s balls.  He’ll tell you if you get too rough.”  Darla looked up at me, eyes sparkling, her hand a little tight around the boys, and giggled, like she was threatening to get too rough.

I cleared my throat nervously.  Darla definitely had a teasing streak. 

I still had yet to have sex only with Darla.  That first time, I came over, and it got to be a homeschool lesson on how to jack me off, and Vonnie was persistent about making sure I didn’t get hard (without getting soft with her help) for the rest of the night.  We’d ended up in bed, all three of us.  I couldn’t even get a boner in my sleep without Vonnie’s little fingers stroking the shaft until I came.  I left in the morning, quite exhausted.  I called in sick, went home and crashed for the rest of the day.

Thereafter, every time I came over, since Vonnie was homeschooled, she was around.  Whenever her mother started to get me aroused, Vonnie would come and at least watch, as her mother “took care of” my hard-on.  Vonnie sat in a chair and diddled her clit sweetly, as she watched me do her mommy doggy-style on the bed one afternoon.  When I was about to come, Vonnie told her daughter to come to the bedside and put her thumb against my asshole.  Vonnie didn’t stick it in, but she stroked circles around my anus until I blew my load.  Afterwards, both women licked Darla’s juices mixed with my cum off my dripping cock. 

Darla was still coaching Vonnie on the right way to give me a proper blow job.  “You want to lap it with your tongue while you’re stroking it in and out,” Darla said.  “And you want to lick across the head if you take it all the way out.  You can always catch your breath a minute and stroke it with your hands.  Make sure you keep it good and wet.”

Having all four hands on it was a thrill in and of itself.  Darla cupped my balls, Vonnie lowered her face over my thick cock, both hands encircling the base.  Darla stroked my anus with her forefinger of her other hand.  I was about to blow! 

“Watch his face,” Darla instructed.  “See how red he’s getting?  That’s when he really likes it.  Now you have a choice....you can either increase the intensity and get him to cum, or you can back it off and let him chill a little, then build the intensity again.”

“What do you mean?”

Darla took over, steering the tip of my cock to the back of her throat.  She pulled off, gasping, “Watch his face, Baby!”  She slid it back into the depths of her mouth.  She maneuvered it, using her lips and fingertips, until I was about to lose it.  I started breathing heavy.  She pulled off.  I twitched, almost doubling over with the suddenness with which she had pulled away. 

She started stroking it, not too gently, but not enough for me to cum.  “You want to get him right there,” she explained, “then you back off.  Yep, he’ll get annoyed, and sometimes, he might even cum, but try to give him a chance for the momentum to die down, then you can go at it again.”  Darla spat on her hand and kept working it, like a lemon against a juicer.  “Always keep it good and wet.  Nice and juicy.”   Darla looked up at my face.  “See, now he’s caught his breath a little bit, his eyes aren’t so crinkled.  You can go again.”

She put Vonnie’s face down on my cock and pressed it down with the flat of her palm.  “Take it Baby Girl.  Learn to take that dick.  Try to exhale when your head’s up and swallow in as much as you can while you stroke it back down.  You might even get to the point when you can swallow it down your throat...depending on how big the guy is.”

Vonnie gulped, sinking back down on my cock.  Darla went back to stroking my balls, tracing little circles on them.  She reached behind them and rubbed the ridge of my perinium, and followed that strip back and forth between my anus and my scrotum.  Vonnie rubbed her tongue side to side on the base of my penis as she bobbed her face up and down on my manhood.  I was about to blow again. 

“Let him cum, now Baby Doll,” Darla told her daughter.  “He’s ready.  Just keep working it.”  Darla put her hand back up on Vonnie’s head, guiding her face down.  She traced her fingers over Vonnie’s lips, “A little firmer.  Hold your mouth a little firmer around him.”

Vonnie was hitting it just right.  I was plenty wet, she held her mouth open plenty wide, I wasn’t hitting her teeth, the lips were just right, and lest I forget, Darla had her own thing going while she rubbed my balls.  Right when I didn’t think it could get any better, Darla put her mouth down under me and started lapping and licking at them, at one point taking them completely  into her mouth! 

I was growing harder and harder and Vonnie was having a little trouble keeping it all in her mouth.  She was a trooper though, and she kept up the momentum, using her hand like her mother told her to, when she couldn’t take me all the way down.  I felt the load blast up from where Darla was lapping at my balls and shoot out into Vonnie’s sweet mouth.  The gush must have surprised her, because she gasped a little bit, pulling off me for a split second, then the good girl that she is, she went right back down on it, determined to swallow it all.  I gripped the sides of the chair, holding it under me as I thrust my hard dick as deep into Vonnie’s mouth as she could take it.  My cock spasmed, then I felt the buzzing as the load of cum eeked its way down.

“Now you have to be gentle.”  Darla instructed.  “You want the man to come down nice, like you like to come down after you cum.  Sometimes the head of his dick is real sensitive. You keep your mouth there, so it’s nice and warm.  Let him pulse inside your face.  That’s a nice, nice feeling.  Then you want to lap up the cum, swallow everything you see.  Every drop that came out.  That’s his essence and you take it all.  Don’t back away from it.  But after he cums, you don’t want to suck too hard, you don’t want to make any sudden moves.”  Darla was studying my face again.  “After he comes, you want to always be nice and gentle.”

Darla started licking the bottom of my shaft, right above my balls.  She used a fat, wide tongue, and exhaled warm breath against my dick.  “Keep it nice and warm,” she told Vonnie.  “Nothing too sudden.  Lick everything off afterward.” 

Vonnie obediently followed her mom’s directions.

“That’s really nice, Baby Girl.  Mr. Johnson really likes it.”

My hands gradually relaxed and I leaned down to pull my pants back up.  Shit!  What a pair these two were!

And Darla liked Vonnie to practice, practice, practice.  I could hardly wait for the next session.    

Author’s Note: If you enjoyed this story, please watch for the next installment.  You might also like my other stories, like Games We Play or Keep it in the Family.  Any comments are welcome and appreciated.  Thanks for reading!

nversation, but the kid only poked at her food, mostly just moved it around on the plate, then excused herself, said she had to go study. Darla and I finished eating--Darla all giggles and winks--then like I said, we moved to the couch out in the front room. I was shocked to see that Darla wasn’t wearing any skivvies at all, that seemed a little weird for a mother of a teenager, and her skirt was so damn short. Wasn’t she trying to set an example? But then I’d learn later exactly what kind of an example that Darla wanted to set.

Darla told me over dinner that she was really concerned about her daughter. The girl’s name was LaVonne, but she went by Vonnie. After her dad just up and left, LaVonne didn’t seem to really have much enthusiasm for anything any more. She was definitely a "daddy’s girl" and her father had left without much notice. Darla said she was trying to make things a little easier on her. Von wasn’t too social and the other kids seemed to tease her, so Darla took her out of school, and started teaching her at home.

We had the television on for some background noise, but neither Darla nor I were paying very much attention to what was on. Darla was just 29, a young woman herself. I could hardly believe it when she told me she had a daughter as old as thirteen. She was just a baby herself when she’d had her. Darla had sultry eyes, shoulder length black hair, and was wearing that short skirt. I had my hand working against her wet slit, her legs were sprawled open, her eyes closed, when Vonnie walked into the living room and plunked into a chair.

I froze.

Darla opened her eyes, looked across the room, not trying to cover anything up at all and said calmly, "You get your algebra done, Baby?"

"Yes, Mama." Vonnie looked over at us, a curious look on her face, but said nothing more.

Darla whispered in my ear, "Larry, just keep doing what you were doing. I want the girl to know this is a natural part of being an adult." Darla kept her legs open wide. She trimmed her bush into a narrow black runway. It was all very visible to the girl. If I’d have walked in on my own mother all open and on display like that, I would have completely freaked, but the girl seemed to think nothing of it.

I, on the other hand, had gone from bone hard to flat in less than a moment, totally losing it when the girl walked in. This was completely weird for me. I sat there on the couch next to Darla, unable to make the next move. Completely unable to resume feeling her up, if that’s what she expected.

Vonnie wasn’t really looking at us. She picked up the remote and flicked to a different channel. She seemed to be in her own little world.

"Do you want us to take it somewhere else?" I asked Darla quietly.

"The girl’s got to learn sometime. Ever since her daddy’s gone, she doesn’t react much to anything. I just want you to act natural."

I couldn’t help it. It was not natural to me to keep feeling up a mother in front of her own daughter. I looked over at Vonnie again. She was watching The OC on Fox. I wasn’t much interested in that. I was torn. I’d come over to get some pussy, I’d gotten all stirred up, and I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel.

Darla put her hand against my back and started massaging my shoulders lightly. She kissed me passionately on my neck. "Larry, I’m soaking wet. Why don’t you get back to work on what you were working on?"

I looked over at Vonnie. She was curled up in the chair, wearing a tight t-shirt and plaid flannel pajama pants. She was hugging a pillow, looking at the tv, looking bored. Darla shifted her pelvis up at me, her legs still thrown open, the flair of her short denim skirt not about to cover up her pretty saturated pussy.

"Vonnie, Baby," Darla said, "Larry here doesn’t seem to quite know what to do here. Will you go get me my silver bullet?"

"Yes, Mama." Vonnie got up and walked across to her mother’s bedroom.

A silver bullet? I panicked. I felt like I was in some kind of weird episode of Strange Encounters, that reality show that put people into incredibly odd situations then filmed their reactions as they squirmed to get themselves comfortable.

Darla looked coyly at me. She started stroking her fingers slowly up and down her pussy, trailing them along the surface, tugging lightly at her pussy lips. Vonnie came back into the room and passed her mother something. It was certainly a vibrating bullet, connected to a wire. With a control at the other end of the line. Darla rotated a dial on the remote, the bullet started humming. She deliciously perched it at the upper edge of her vulva, so it was just brushing against the upper edge of her clit.

Vonnie didn’t seem to think much of her mother’s being about to masturbate right in front of her. "We sleep in the same room," Darla mouthed. "She knows all about masturbation."

I still didn’t know what to make of the situation, but with Darla sitting next to me, all spread open, and a vibrating egg humming against her clit, I was gradually getting hard again. She was so fucking hot! The girl was now laying on her stomach on the floor, looking at the tv, her head on a pillow.

"Vonnie, Baby," Darla said to the girl, "I don’t think Larry’s convinced that you’re comfortable. You want to show him how you can rub your cunny?"

"Yes, Mama."

The girl rolled so that she was on the floor between my feet. Without showing any obvious emotion, she pulled her pajama pants off, and then took down her white cotton panties. Like I’d noticed before, she looked thin, and young for her age. Her frame was small, and her tits small and undeveloped. Vonnie opened her legs. She had a pretty bubblegum pink pussy with just a few faint hairs. Unabashedly, she spread it open before me. She looked at her mama, and she started rubbing herself.

"Put some spit on it, Baby. I want you to have a good time."

Obediently, Vonnie wet her finger on her tongue, and elegantly slid her fingertips up and down her slit. On the couch beside me, Darla was working her own clit, running the bullet up against her swollen bulb. Darla’s voice was growing thick and musky with lust, watching her daughter masturbating on the floor.

"Open it up, Baby. Show it to Larry. Show him how pretty your little pink pussy is, Baby Girl."

"Yes, Mama."

This obviously wasn’t the first time Darla had encouraged the girl to masturbate. "Go on, Honey, rub it, Girl. Get it going Baby."

Vonnie put her knees up. I could see her puckered asshole and her parted vagina right before my eyes. She was gradually getting wetter but she wasn’t slippery wet just yet. Watching her, my dick was rock hard, almost in spite of myself. This was just fucking wrong.

Darla kept up the commentary, rubbing her own puss, making encouraging comments to her daughter between us on the floor.

"Watch Mama, Honey. Watch Mama make it really, really wet."

"Yes, Mama."

Vonnie sat up more, and scooted between her Mama’s thighs. Darla was rubbing her clit right in front of the girl’s eyes. The girl had her hand between her thighs, stroking her own clit. Darla’s eyes were rolling back a little, she had that glazed look a woman get’s on her face when she’s trying to hit that spot.

I shifted around on the couch. My penis was straining to get out of my pants. Darla was starting to sigh and moan softly. "Vonnie, Baby, you put your fingers in Mama’s pussy, wontcha baby?"

"Yes, Mama."

The girl licked the fingers on her left hand and slipped them into her Mama’s wet vagina. She started stroking four fingers in and out, a slurping sound filling the room. Vonnie kept rubbing on her clit. I so wanted to take my dick out of my pants and start stroking it along with them. But I didn’t know if I should. Had the girl seen a man’s dick before?

Darla read my mind. "Larry, go ahead and take off your pants."

I stood up and took my pants off. My penis swelled and curved upwards inside my drawers. Vonnie was curious. She was looking at my dick. I have to admit it was twitching particularly hard, wondering where this was going to go.

"Vonnie, Baby, you see Mr. Johnson’s penis, Honey?"

Vonnie nodded.

"Baby Girl, you be a good girl and help him take his underwear off."

"Yes, Mama."

While her mother continued to masturbate, Vonnie stood. She was only up to my mid-chest. Her chin was about at my belly button. She tentatively put her hands on the band of elastic. Awkwardly, she pulled my drawers down to the floor. I stepped out over them. She was staring at my erection, fascinated.

"That’s her first time seeing a dick." Darla said. "My little girl’s growing up. She needs to learn about these things. Larry, you be a good man and show her how that thing of yours works."

I wasn’t sure how to interpret that. Did she want me to take her daughter’s virginity?

"Mama’s gonna cum." Vonnie said, pointing. She quickly crouched between her mother’s legs, the thick smell of pussy emanating from her crotch. Vonnie cupped her fingers closely together and pushed them into her mama’s vagina. "Come on, Mama!" She begged, "Cum for me!"

Vonnie worked her four fingers in and out of Darla’s cunt like a piston. "Come on, Mama." Vonnie was biting her lip in concentration. I could tell that she was trying to stroke Darla’s vaginal walls in a certain way, trying to hit that G-spot, trying to get that cum. Vonnie was such a sight to see, encouraging her Mama, stroking that woman’s pussy, even rubbing her own bubble of a clit. "Watch her, Mr. Johnson."

Oh I was watching! I’d never imagined such a thing in my life. The young girl had her whole fist inside her mother now, and the woman’s moist lips were up around her wrist. "Watch, Mr. Johnson."

Vonnie knew the exact moment her Mama was going to erupt. She took her left hand and started diddling Darla’s clit with quick darting movements. Darla arched her pelvis up so that the only thing still on the couch was the top of her shoulder blades. "Do me, Baby Girl. Do your Mama’s clit!" Darla yelled, the climax erupting from her loins in a shuddering clench. Vonnie even braced herself for the change in intensity. Darla’s vaginal muscles fluttered visibly, pulsing over the girl’s hand, still entombed inside. "Watch my Mama, Mr. Johnson."

I was standing. My hand was firmly stroking my dick. I wasn’t quite about to cum, but I was sure getting off watching Darla. She was a pistol! Darla shifted and lurched around on the couch, wrapped inside the secret place of her orgasm, twisting about until the waistband of her skirt was up under her breasts.

"Now eat me, Baby Girl."

"Yes, Mama."

"Eat me the way I love it, Baby."

The girl obediently knelt between her mother’s thighs and started sucking and licking at her folds. Darla arched up and down on the couch and grabbed her daughter’s head, forcing the girl’s nose against her puss. "That’s a good Girl, Vonnie. A good girl."

Vonnie stayed put, deliciously lapping at the purge of juices seeping from her mama’s hot cunt. I sat on the floor behind her, so I could watch her small mouth working it, stroking it. I was rubbing real hard. I hadn’t been so worked up in awhile. I started breathing heavy.

Before us on the couch, Darla started shouting out, lost in the throes of the moment. "Oh, oh oh, yeah Baby Girl, that’s the way, that’s the way..." She collapsed against the soft back of the couch, then sat up. "Good girl, Honey. That was real good." She was laughing softly, enthralled with herself for coming so hard.

"Oh Vonnie, Baby Girl, Look at Mr. Johnson." Darla sat up and pointed at me.

Vonnie pulled away from her mother’s crevice to look at my twitching dick. "Look, Vonnie." Darla urged. "I want you to notice how he’s stroking it." Darla’s voice was slipping into teaching mode. She was using me to homeschool her daughter! I felt like I was about to burst. I slowed down, trying to stave off my orgasm.

Darla continued to talk to Vonnie about what I was doing. "Every man’s got his own way of stroking his dick, Baby. He’ll put a certain amount of pressure on the shaft...he’ll rub the edge of the head in a certain way. You watch carefully."

Vonnie nodded, studying my movements, studying the shape of my dick arching against my belly. I was average-sized, but I could tell she thought I was huge. I was sure she’d never seen anything like this before. I know I hadn’t.

"Can I touch it, Mama?"

Darla looked at me. Oh my God, I could go to jail for this! But somehow I nodded. I was too lost in the moment. And I have to admit, I wanted the girl’s tender fingers on me in a bad way.

"Go ahead, Baby."

Vonnie knelt between my feet put her hands tentatively on the shaft. Her fingers felt so small, a little cold. "Spit on it Baby. It’s like you-- it feels better when it’s wetter." Darla laughed at her little rhyme.

Vonnie put her fingertips in her mouth. I knew she could taste her mother’s sweet n’ sour taste as she wet them again. I spit on my own fingers, to add it into the mix.

"This is her first time touching a man," Darla said to me, although it was obvious. My dick loved that she said it. The slut in me wanted her to keep talking, to keep hearing all these dirty details. My dick throbbed under her awkward touch. I moved her hand, cupping the fingers around my shaft.

"Put a little pressure on it, not too much..." I directed.

Darla winked at me. "That’s it, Larry, tell her how you like it."

"Make a circle with your forefinger touching your thumb...that’s nice, Vonnie. That’s good."

Vonnie looked back at her mother’s face for assurance. "Am I doing it right?"

Darla smiled at her daughter. "You’re doing good, Baby."

Vonnie leaned toward her hand rubbing up and down on my pulsing dick. She moved her mouth around, collecting spit in the front. She got up on her knees, opening her lips, and letting the trickle of spit dribble down on my cock. I felt so fat and throbbing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so turned on by a hand job.

Behind her, Darla continued the lesson. "Honey, when a man gets an erection, it’s up to you to do something about it. Otherwise you’ll be what they call a PT, or a prick teaser. Can’t have men thinking that about you. If you get it hard, then you work it until it goes soft again."

"How do I do that, Mama?" Vonnie asked, her eyes wide, as she watched, fascinated by my bulging hard-on. "You like this, Mr. Johnson?"

Yes, Baby, I love it

Darla giggled, "Oh you’ll see how it gets soft in a minute. You’ll get it. But the important thing is that I want you to be a good girl and make sure you take care of a man that you get hard. There’s lots of ways to rub it, with your hand, with your mouth, with your pussy even...I’ll show you how."

I looked over at Darla. She was watching her daughter, and stroking her own pussy again. "That’s looking really good, Baby Girl," she said. "Really nice." Darla winked at me. Thank you, she mouthed.

I grinned. No problem! I was about to cum. The little girl’s hands were working in awkward circles up and down my dick. She wasn’t holding it quite right, the pressure wasn’t really the way I liked it, but it was so hot to have a little thirteen year old circle jerking me, calling me "Mr. Johnson," I could hardly stand it.

I closed my eyes, not able to respond at the moment. This was her first time, the first time, and she was so young! Darla really did believe in teaching her everything. I felt the building intensity, and the jolt as the sperm shot from my balls up and out. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" I shouted, cupping my nuts and thrusting the tip into Vonnie’s face. The jizz erupted, shooting her all over the face, hitting her nose, spattering her lips.

"Oh my God!" Vonnie shouted, surprised. She pulled away, her hands over her mouth, wiping my cum off her face.

"No, No, Baby Girl," Darla said. "A man’s going to want you to eat it. Here." Darla bent over Vonnie’s cream-shot face and started licking away the white spurts. Her rough tongue washed off her daughter’s face. She put her finger out and wiped off a thick dribble. "Vonnie, you try it." Darla put her fingertip to her daughter’s lips.

"I don’t like it Mama." Vonnie said, wrinkling her nose.

Darla stifled a laugh. "You’ll get used to it, Baby Girl. It’s not so bad." Darla opened her mouth and smeared the rest of my jizz across her thick tongue.

I put my hand on my dick and milked out the last few drops. Darla tapped Vonnie. "There you go, Honey. Drink up those last few drops."

"Yes, Mama." Vonnie obediently put her mouth over the throbbing head of my dick, and lapped at the last few drops. She made a funny face as she swallowed.

"That’s a good, Girl. Isn’t she a good girl, Mr. Johnson?"

"Yes, Vonnie," I said, "That was very, very nice."

"Thank you for the lesson, Mr. Johnson."

Anytime, Baby Girl. Anytime.

 

Author’s Note: Watch for further episodes of this tale. If you enjoyed this one, you might also like my story Keep it in the Family, or the series Games We Play. Thank you in advance for any comments.

, I thought. But the words wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t speak. My mouth was totally dry. I was lost in that place inside my head, caught up in the thrill, simply loving the pulse of my blood as it charged into my stiff, hot fuck pole. I smiled, hoping that would show her that she was hitting it right, doing a good job.