Message-ID: <6430eli$9712151628@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "ass.reposter" X-Good-Total-Length: yes Subject: RP: Florida Heat (Best stories from my archive) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: somogy1@hotmail.com Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <3494DFCD.6774@hotmail.com> OPEN MARRIAGE CHRONICLES: "FLORIDA HEAT" By Bill This is the the first of a series of events covering one and one half years of our married life. Each story is essentially true, just as it happened. All names have been changed. CHAPTER 1 We were vacationing on Florida's west coast when I suggested to Ellen that she should date others. After 8 years of marriage, we'd had no serious arguments, but now she was irritated. We were discussing this a half hour before sunset while we were in our swim wear, washing our Porsche on the narrow strip of grass separating the rented house and the beach. She calmed down, then laughed, convinced that his wasn't a ploy to allow me to fool around. She'd been so opposed to the suggestion that I was surprised when she finally caved in, agreeing, "O-kay, Bill. I'll consider it. But it's a dumb idea." I breathed liked I'd just run a mile and said, "All I ask is that you tell me about the dates." She smirked doubtfully, but her eyes were telling me that her anger had been supplanted by an excited imagination. Before we'd married, Ellen had been a beach wear and cosmetics model. A daughter of a Presbyterian minister, she didn't smoke and had never drunk alcohol. Now, thanks to dieting and Bally, her measurements were the same as when I'd met her. She's 5'8", has waist-length black hair, the rare color of brilliant, gray eyes, and a figure that turns men's heads. Here in her white string bikini, she looked even more appealing. The car now shined like new. I was lifting the portable vacuum when we glanced toward a young blond man, his fist gripping a sketch pad as he walked up from the beach. He was wearing a light blue button-down shirt with epaulets and khaki safari slacks. He introduced himself as Greg, an art student at a local college. He asked directions to a nearby diner. With his tall, lithe body and tanned face, he looked more like a surfer than an artist. Bending to pick up the chamois and her white hip-length terry robe, Ellen smiled. She was appraising Greg's handsome features. Her nervous blush looked like an advanced case of sunburn. She tossed me a quizzical nod. I picked up her cue and grinned toward Greg, "We a gorgeous little pussy!" over and over as he tried to lick me dry, a self-defeating exercise at the coldest of times, and that was far from one of them. Louis drained the last of his beer and put the cold bottle on the carpet between Bonnie's legs. I seemed to zoom in on the beads of condensation on the outside of the amber glass and the slowly settling ring of foam on the inside. I wondered, oddly, if that was what jism would look like through amber glass and then Bonnie was rubbing the bottle up and down, up and down, pressing it against the split of her slippery slit. Ed was in conflict. Photograph what Susan and Bill were doing to me, or focus on Bonnie, who just might turn the bottle ninety degrees and stuff it into her (apparently) perpetually hungry cunt? Susan lowered me to the carpet and helped me lay back. Bill never missed a lick as she began sucking my nipples while on all fours facing my feet. I felt the first of the orgasms rising in me and then I felt Bill's hands completely enclose my ass. He lifted my cunny to his mouth and feasted and I started cumming. I didn't care about the artificial lightning flashes of the strobe on the 35 millimeter; all I cared about was cumming more and more and more. Things got unfocused. I remember, at some point, Susan saying -- rather plaintively -- "Hey! What about me?" and Bill obligingly moving behind her. Louis quickly took his place between my legs, but not for long. He was soon laying over me and driving his hard cock into me and it was just exactly what my body craved. And all the time I could hear click--click--click-- Louis came soon (it seemed) and I scooted on my back under the bitch-presenting form of Susan. She lowered her Bill-filled cunt so I could lick at it and at his big balls. He pulled out at one point and let his huge dick flop onto my sweat-slippery tits and belly, then pulled back enough to dangle that plum-size knob over my face. I tried to suck him as Susan dropped her head and began sucking my clit. His glans was simply too big to get in my mouth. I licked as much as I could reach -- which wasn't much -- and then sucked on the slit in the end of his cock, but it wasn't enough for him and he soon loaded himself back into her big pussy and resumed churning. And I resumed licking her clit and his nuts. I liked this better, anyhow. After Bill came and Susan's newly unplugged twat gushed its little explosion of her sauces (and his cum) on my face, we all rested. I didn't know how long I'd been cumming, there; it was timeless. I said something about being thirsty and someone presented me with a cold beer. I'd been thinking of cold water or soda pop, but, I figured, What the hell? I drank the whole bottle almost in one gulp. "We gotta be making tracks, folks." We looked over at Louis. He was dressed and looked a bit weary, but not too bad. Bonnie, however, was a semi-ambulatory disaster. Louis and she had somehow gotten her cutoffs and shirt back on her, but they were little enough consolation compared to her flushed face. The big wet spot on the crotch of the cutoffs didn't lend much to fashion appeal, nor did the bruises beginning to form on those gorgeous legs. And her hair was a mess. Susan insisted that Louis wait while she cleaned Bonnie up a bit. In the meantime, Ed and Bill lit some grass -- a joint, you'd call it now -- and offered me some. I hadn't even smoked tobacco then, let alone grass, and declined somewhat nervously, because I wasn't sure how they'd react. They seemed to think it was fine. But with the drapes pulled and no real air circulation, that room -- already hot and filled with the aromas of sex and sum and lubrication and sweat and lust -- quickly filled with marijuana smoke and it was getting to me fast. I started to feel very silly and impetuous and I actually giggled when I realized I had a man's lips at each of my breasts. It seemed perfectly reasonable for Ed to roll me onto my back and slide sweetly into me and begin gently pumping in and out. It was almost sexless; just friendly, y'know? But not completely. Before long, I was starting to cum again, but this time it was in long, unending waves that washed through and over me an then I felt Ed cumming and it seemed very reasonable for Bill to be rolling on top of me and -- "Are you out of your goddam mind?" Susan's voice was hot, hard, demanding and shrill. It went a long way to shattering the moment for all of us. "Huh?" was my contribution. "Get off her, Bill -- " Much fumbling, foggily remembered, and then Bill was sitting naked beside me on the floor, that monstrous cock sticking up from between his thighs like the sweet end of a baseball bat. "You put that in her and she'll rupture. Forget it!" "Awwwww..." was Bill's educated response. "She may be right," Ed said with the forced sobriety of one who is stoned. "Huh?" I said. "But I wanna be in that nice, tight, hot, slick, hairless, itty little -- " "I'll take care of you, horsey," Susan said and began giving directions as Ed lit another joint and pumped still more mary jane into the air. I started to get really relaxed then, to feel a buzz. Susan crawled over me so we could lick each other and at the same time, Bill slid that big salami of his up into her. She had her knees on either side of my head, right up next to my ears, and she let her legs spread wider and wider till she was almost doing a split. Her mound was mashed right down over my mouth and every time Bill drove up into her, his balls came up and smacked against my forehead. She had her hands under me, holding my butt. My legs were open so she could lick and suck all over my cunt and then she got ahold of my clit in her lips and I started cumming. And cumming. And cumming. I gave as good as I got and it wasn't long before she was screaming and jumping around and her nipples like to gouge into my tummy, they were so hard. Ol' Bill was pounding away and I could see his cock swell up and then he was cumming in her and she was cumming on him and in my mouth and I just got higher and higher with the sex and the smoke. I don't remember many details about what came next. Susan and I rolled over and I sat on her face and licked her and licked at Bill's juices. Her cunt was still stretched open from his big dick and it seemed the most natural thing in the world the clench my fist and work it up into her. I heard Ed clicking away with his camera and then I heard the movie camera whirring and everyone complained the lights were too bright, so he gave up on that in about ten minutes. Susan just lay there and wailed, cumming all the time, and I was really getting into getting into her, if you know what I mean. I must've had half my arm up inside her at one point. Ed got it all on film. Then Ed was kneeling behind me and sliding his nice hard dick into me and that, what with Susan's licking, had me going like to nuts real fast. He didn't last any too long, either. I came so hard I kind of blacked out or something for a while. I came to on my back, with Susan licking one tit and Ed licking the other. Bill had a joint in his mouth. He took a deep breath and then kissed me and blew the smoke right into my mouth -- a "shotgun," it's called. It hit me pretty hard, because I agreed pretty fast to letting Ed take pictures of me licking Bill's limp dick. It didn't stay limp very much longer. At one point I managed to force the head into my mouth and then it was difficult to get it out, cause his cock had gotten so fat. Get it out he did, though, and Susan immediately demanded it. He got up behind her and slid the whole thing in -- bam! it was gone, just like that. I put my hand up to press her belly and I could feel it moving inside. He stuck three fingers in his mouth and then pressed them down between her buttocks and she tensed up for a moment -- and then sighed deeply. "Oh, yeah, lover, that feels so gooood..." she said and her eyes half closed and she pretty much forgot about my nipples. Bill licked his pinky and added it to the crowd in her butt and she again tensed, then sighed, and started moaning. "I wanna pin your sweet, tight ass, baby!" Bill said. "That'd feel so good," she hissed, "but my cunt will get lonesome!" I was pretty stoned by then -- my first time -- so I went along with the suggestion Ed made. I don't recall a helluva lot about what came next; at least, the details are unclear. But I remember quite clearly having my fist inside Susan's big cunt while she sucked my little pussy while the full length of Bill's humongous cock, fat as my arm, pumped in and out of her ass. It was squeezing my hand and arm, which were in her cunt. It was very horny and I remember cumming lots when she remembered to lick and suck and finger me, and I remember lightning in the room. When I woke, it was almost dawn. I was surrounded by naked, sleeping bodies, most covered with sweat and cum. When I sat up and looked, I discovered I was wearing the same uniform. My only thought at that moment was get home before Mom or Dad or Moses (a.k.a., Alexis) awoke and discovered my absence. It wasn't to be until almost twenty-four hours later that I began to worry about all that damn film Ed had shot. I never saw Louis again, anywhere, and but I did hear of him again, years later, once. There is a reason -- a good one -- for that. As for Bonnie -- well, I did see her again, but I never would have guessed the circumstances. When I was "introduced" to her a couple of years later, you could've knocked me over with a feather. I didn't want to see Susan or Bill again. It took me a long time to sort it out, but eventually I did. They'd used me, toyed with me. I felt dirty and -- soiled. Cheapened. I didn't like that. I'd thought that feeling was behind me. I'd felt the same way after the first time -- [No. I don't want to talk about that. Not yet, anyway. Maybe later. Yes. Later] So after some time passed and I got more relaxed about all of Ed's film, I started looking forward to the Fourth of July. Alexis got herself a part-time job working out at the Dairy Queen on Woodville road and Dad had a steady part-time gig working for some contractor -- in addition to his regular job -- [No one can ever accuse the son-of-a-bitch of being lazy.] -- and Jeanne and I were pretty much left to our own devices. That was when we discovered the vibrating massager Mom had gotten from Sears to help ease Dad's tense shoulders. Hah! Jeanne came like nothing I'd ever seen and I passed out from it, I came so hard. It was scary. But we were looking forward to the Fourth. For one thing, there'd be fireworks over in Maumee. For another, my phantom step-brother was coming to visit and I was bound and determined to have him. CHAPTER TEN By the time he arrived, I was in a state. I'd dome everything I could to prepare -- tanned like crazy, read up all I could about his damn ol' Mets, even bought a sexy peignoir -- and laid in plans for It. I was determined to seduce my step-brother. The night before he was arrive at Toledo Express Airport (which he always referred to as "Toledo International Spaceport," just to rub it in) I showered and stood bare-butt naked in from of the mirror on the back of the door to the room I shared with Jeanne. I looked myself over. All of a sudden, in the past three weeks, I'd started developing again -- wildly. My bust was up to a 29C and my waist was still a little bitty 19 and my hips were barely 26 inches. I was as tan as I could be and my hair, which hadn't been more than trimmed in six months, reached straight and sleek halfway down my back. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I knew I was damn sexy and I knew that if I couldn't get to him now, I never would. I also knew I had to be Cool -- not too pushy, very much in control. I had it all planned out, oh yes I did. I went with Dad and Mom to the airport to meet him. He hugged me the way he hugged everyone else and I made damn sure that the sleeveless top I wore was the only thing I wore on top, so he could feel my boobs press into him. I sat next to him in the station wagon as Dad drove us all back from the airport, and I made sure I was scrunched over so my thigh (bare beneath the cutoffs jeans) was against his. And I could not remember a thing about staying cool. Because he was an absolute fox. He was a little under six feet tall and had this light brown hair, except for a -- can you believe it? -- red forelock and had these really light hazel eyes and a cute face and what a damn built he had on him! He'd picked up his suitcases from the conveyor belt as if they'd been empty; when Jeanne and I tried to help we nearly got ruptured. Even Dad couldn't lift one of them that easily! All the way back from the airport we made small talk, and he was always completely in control. When we passed Route 23 and I leaned over (supposedly) to point to the new bowling alleys (and not incidentally press my boobs into his arm) he just gave me a quick glance and a funny little half-smile and I wanted to cross my legs 'cause I was getting so wet down there. By the time we'd reached the house, Mom had already told him I was having some friends over for a slumber party (heh) and since Dad was on midnight shifts and she tired out early, he agreed to watch over us kids (double-heh) that night. All was in readiness. I brushed my teeth twice and showered and then gargled and showered again and generally made myself as clean as possible. Then I doused myself with Windsong and paraded around the house after dinner in my swimsuit bottoms and a tee-shirt and nothing else and told him I hoped he didn't mind watching us, et cetera, and found every excuse I could to lean against him. At seven, my friends started arriving and at eight he had finished calling all the aunts, uncles and cousins he had to touch base with. At nine, my brothers were sent to bed and Jeanne, pleading weariness, sacked it. Alexis was out on a date and Mom was fading fast. At ten, Dad was dressed and ready to leave for work (he always got to work early; Dad was a Depression baby and believed in showing up very early) and Mom was fighting to stay awake. At ten-thirty, it was four of my friends and me and my phantom step-brother, who was sitting at the dining room table, reading a paperback and scarfing down peanut butter sandwiches. At eleven, I sprung my trap. I pulled a chair away from the table and sat facing him. "Yes?" he asked, looking up from his PB&Js and his book. "Antisocial?" He grinned and closed the book. "Meaning?" "Come in and talk to us. Lisa's here, y'know." "Lisa's still five years younger than me," he said, not inaccurately. "And she'd probably prefer not to be reminded of the potato chips." I laughed at that. He hadn't forgotten any more than I -- or Lisa -- had forgotten. "We'd like you tell us about what it's like being in New York." He put that stare of his on me. Held it for about a ten-count. Then smiled oddly and shook his head. "Somehow, I don't imagine a bunch of thirteen-year-old kids really being that interested in life in Brooklyn." "Oh, come in and talk to us." I squirmed in mock-coquettishness, "There's a bunch of nubile young women waiting fro the pleasure of your company." I thought he'd choke, holding back the laughter. Finally: "'Nubile'?" He rose and stood beside my chair. He was wearing faded old jeans and a Mets tee-shirt and I was fully prepared to unzip and gulp him right then and there. "Lead on," he said, fighting a grin. I stood, letting myself get closer than I had to, and drew him by the hand into the family room. "Look what I found," I announced. "This calls for a beer," said Dana Connally. And produced same from her huge overnight bag. Debbie didn't have much in the way of a figure, but what she had, she knew how to use. She was wearing a flannel shorty nightgown and it somehow was sexier on her than my filmy little peignoir could ever be. I grabbed one of her beers and gulped it. Dan merely watched as I let myself fall into the old recliner. He was sitting on the old couch, no more than two feet away. Lisa was next to him and Dana was on the other side of Lisa from her. The other two, Angela and Barb, were on the floor, far, far away and dubious -- and fading fast. The beer hit me fast and hard. I said things I shouldn't have said, even mentioned the potato chips. Dan reached past Dana to put his arm around Lisa and said he would have kept them to that very day if they hadn't gone stale and soft with age. Lisa blushed and scurried away. Debbie squirmed in closer to him and grabbed his hand and held it. I was still in the armchair. I asked him if he had a girlfriend and tried to steer things in that direction. Occasionally, I made some snide remarks to Debbie -- about where she was putting her hand, about how short her nightie was -- and generally got stupid. My plan was dissolving. Somehow, the subject turned to comparing Ohio girls with New York girls, he said New York girls were more sophisticated in some ways, but Ohio girls were a little more direct -- and he liked that. "What do you mean?" "Well, in New York, girls play games, act like they don't want the same things the guys want -- like what they've got is some kind of prize, y'know? Here, the girls don't mind letting it be known what they like and what they don't want. I like the honesty." "You mean girls here are easier." "Not 'bad' easier, but...less hung up. Yeah, easier, if honest means easy." He paused and grinned. "And healthier." "Waddya mean?" "Girls out here seem to grow up physically a lot sooner and more emphatically." He winked at me. "You mean, like bigger tits sooner?" Dana asked. "You betcha." "Like Marie's?" she asked. "Yeah. Too bad she's just a kid." I took offense at that and opened the robe of my peignoir. I wasn't wearing a bra beneath the chemise and it was all lacy and a little too tight on my tits. "Who's a kid?" I demanded. "Marie, you're all growed out real good," he said. "But you're my sister and you're still too young." Blame it on the beer. I ran my hands up and cupped my tits. "'If they're big enough, they're old enough.' Isn't that what they say? And aren't these big enough?" He pulled his gaze from my breasts to my eyes. "Don't fuck with my head," he said quietly. "You know I like you, you know I think you're sexy and you know you're my sister." "And you know were not related by blood, so don;t give me that...or are you just mouthing off about me being attractive?" "Sure, and the first time I touch you, you'll go screaming." "No I won't. Go on -- do it." And there, in that dimly lit room, he leaned forward and put his hand on my bare shoulder. He slid it down and just barely pressed my breasts through the bodice of the chemise. I damn near came right then and there. When his palm was over my right nipple, I said, "I'm not screaming." His fingers closed on my nipple through the satin and he pulled it a bit. And said: "Are you trying to prove something to me, to you -- or to your friends?" For a few minutes, it had just been him and me, but now I remembered the others sitting around and I thought of the stories they would tell... He took his hand away. "I think it's time to call it a night. Enjoy your party, girls." He got up and went into the living room, where his pullout was. There were more beers and then we all sort of crashed, there on the floor, on the couch and on cushions and Angie just sprawled on some blankets and slept. The beer took its toll on me and I was out pretty fast. It took another toll, too. Around dawn I got up to pee and that was when I heard the noises in the living room. I crept silently to the corner, at the place where the stairs went up, and that was when I saw Dana betray me. Dan was sitting on the living room couch, perched on the edge of the cushion, and Dana was straddling him. They were kissing hot and wet and with a lot of tongue. I watched him slide his hands up under her nightgown and then he was lifting it. She didn't have much in the way of tits, but what she had got plenty of attention. Dan licked and kissed and sucked those hard little mounds while she, all long and lean and lanky and sinuous, held his face against them. He moved one hand down to rub around he cunt. She didn't have much hair down there, but she had what he was looking or -- and vice versa. I could hear his finger squish into her and her breathing got faster. I also heard his soft sigh when he pulled his dick out through the opening in his briefs and settled her onto it. Dana was taller than me by a good seven or eight inches, but her hips and butt were almost as small as mine and she had to work her way down onto him. I only got a glimpse, but his cock was about average length and a little thicker than most and hard as a bar of iron. It was a tight fit and all the time she was settling onto it, he kept licking and sucking her nipples. I could have killed her. I was the one who wanted him! Besides -- he was MY brother! He put his hands on her skinny hips and guided her as she worked up and down, back and forth. She was long-legged, Dana was, and had her feet on the floor on either side of his legs. She did the work, but I could hear both of them breathing harder and I could hear her cunt suck and squish on him as she moved up and down. He settled against the back of the couch, his butt still perched at the edge of the cushion, and moved his hands up to hold her forearms as she leaned back. Both of them began moving, faster and faster.I saw her bite her lower lip when she started to cum and then he hunched his hips up at her and held them there and I knew he was cumming in her. Damn her! He pulled her forward against him and I heard his dick slurp out o her as he kissed her lips and cradled her to him, exactly the way and the time I'd always wanted. She slithered out of his arms an knelt between his leg and kissed and sucked his spermy dick until it was clean. Then she rearranged her nightgown and whispered something to him. I scurried back to my cushions on the floor just before she reappeared in the TV room. All I could think of was the fact that she had his cum in her cunt, and I did not. I spent most of the next day sulking. I was not a good hostess to Angela and Barb and I was downright rude to Dana. And she seemed to know I knew what had gone on and worse, to know I was wildly jealous. I determined to make my phantom step-brother spend a lot of time dating the Palm Sisters by showing off my assets for him whenever I could get away with it. The problem was that I didn't get much of a chance. That day he went out to a small town about 45 miles from our house to visit other relatives and the next day he went out there again. Our mutual cousin Shana explained: Dan apparently had developed a terrific crush on Dorothy, a friend of hers with a sweet face, a gentle disposition and a Body by Hefner. Shana was willing to talk about it in some detail. She and Dan had kept up a regular correspondence year-round -- which I'd known about for quite a while -- and they had a lot to talk about. She'd arranged for a bunch of her friends from school -- most of whom were close to her and Dan's age -- to wander over to the Dairy Queen by the quarry-cum-town- swimming-hole and Hang Out. He and Dorothy had taken an immediate shine to each other, which was no surprise in either direction. Shana knew there'd been some smooching and groping, but doubted it had gone very much farther than that. Dorothy had a reputation for politely-but-firmly refusing to Go Too Far. It was enough to put Dorothy on my perpetual hit list, thinking about her acting like a priss and leaving my gorgeous Dan with blue balls. Grrrrrr. The next day he spent helping Mom around the house and with her chores and I spent most of it flashing him. It had an effect, much to my pleasure. I kept thinking, Look what you missed and eat your heart out! What I really wanted, though, was to tell him to eat me. The next day, a Friday, he was going out there again. This time he was to stay over with Aunt Mimi -- Shana's Mom -- and I decided it was time to cultivate Shana's little sister, Irene. She was about my age, but looked a lot more like it, maybe even less. But she was bright and a bit hyperactive and jealous of the girls who, like Annette Funicello, "already got theirs" and determined to prove herself in competition with them, i.e., get the guys. She hadn't seen Dan yet on this visit -- she'd been away at a horse farm for a couple of days -- and was really looking forward to the visit. Eventually, by clever manipulation and downright lying, I lured her into "deciding" it would be nice for me to stay for an overnighter at the same time Dan did. The way I figured it, I would wait until Dan got back from what was sure to be a heated and -- ultimately -- frustrating evening with Dorothy and then I'd have him! Aha! Shana and Dan kissed lightly and sweetly, a non-erotic peck of warmth and greeting and then we all piled into the Blue Bomb -- a seven- year-old Buick she was entitled to drive by virtue of her age and relatively rural location. I would have been pleased and excited at the start of my little adventure, except that Shana had a passenger: Dorothy. She was absolutely lovely and unselfconsciously sexy at the same time, with her dark hair and flawless complexion and full lips and wide eyes and that amazing damn body with those fantastically firm, full tits under a tee-shirt and barely contained by a bra I was sure she wore more for modesty than support. She was sixteen and in full bloom. I think of how she looked through the window of the Blue Bomb and I can understand why it was not unusual for our grandparents and great-grandparents to marry at fifteen and sixteen. Shana made some joke about it, but I didn't laugh when I found myself in the front seat with my cousin...leaving Dorothy and Dan in the back. The held hands tightly through the entire forty-minute drive. I dared sneak only two or three glances back at them all the time. Those Buicks were big. There was plenty of room. Most of it was unused because they were very close together. Still, it was impossible to keep a mad on at Aunt Mimi's. She and Uncle Don got married when she was fifteen and he was seventeen and the love between them pervaded the entire old ramshackle house. She was a big, rawboned, horsy-faced lady of indeterminate years and great big laughing eyes that made you forget the moustache that never seemed to go away (no matter what she did) and the little stubble of a beard s'help me on her chin. She made a fuss over Dan, of course, and over me and kidded me about the way my figure had developed. Somehow, the way she did it, made it seem remarkable that I had such a body, but perfectly Okay and Set Yerself Down Here and Have Some Pop and Tell Yer Old Aunt Mimi What You've Been Up To, Why Doncha? We had dropped Dorothy at her house and Dan was nice and polite and went into the back yard to talk with Shana about her drawings and her first pastels. All of which was fine until we heard car doors slam. Dan went into the living room to greet Irene. She was all lithe and lean and tousled blonde hair and little kiddish with tiny bumps inside her shirt and she greeted Dan by jumping him! Yeah, she literally jumped up on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. She kissed him right on the mouth, hard and maybe deep and Dan went all red in the face and pulled her off him. I could see a bulge in his cutoff jeans. He tried to hide it, but failed. Irene had two of her little friends with her and a few minutes later, cousin Timmy -- Shana's big brother and Aunt Mimi's oldest -- came in. Timmy was Dan's age and a really ruggedly handsome guy even then. Unfortunately, some of the circuits in his head didn't work. Timmy couldn't deal with books and reading or any kind of pressure; he would go into these fits. And he was not particularly gentle, either. Timmy did what he liked and could get away with. I was never really comfortable around him and I could see Dan wasn't, either, but he was polite and tried to be warm, which was more than I could do. See, any time Timmy was alone with me, he was always grabbing my tits -- hard. I had to follow through with my charade and immediately diverted Irene -- who seemed reluctant to leave Dan, which bothered me. She took me to her room an I went through what was probably the bonding ritual of girls our age at that time, discussing boys, the Beatles, clothes, the Beatles, jealousies, the Beatles, free love, the Beatles, the new Rolling Stones poster (clearly showing Mick's bulge) and, of course, the Beatles. [My favorite was George. Okay? Thank you.] We listened to some 45s and then we were going over to the DQ -- [Dairy Queen.] -- to hang out. I was very agreeable to this, as I knew that eventually, Dan and Dorothy would show up there. The adjacent park -- Veteran's -- was about the only place they could go and fool around, since neither had wheels. I hated the idea, yet I wanted to see them together. I dunno why; I just did. Anyhow, going over to the DQ and meeting Irene's friends was about as exciting as I expected -- deadly dull. The boys in the crowd were typical of boys my age, which is to say I had outgrown them a long time ago, but they kept trying to "accidentally" touch my tits or get me alone. After what seemed like years there, Irene and I walked back to her house. She told me she was glad I had spurned -- she used that word -- the boys who were turned on by my tits. She hoped that would help them look for other qualities in a girl. I told her to hold her breath till they were nineteen or so. She asked, How do you know? and I, like an idiot, told her a little bit and hinted at more. [Why "like an idiot"? Listen -- and stop interrupting me -- and I'll tell you.] Well, Irene decided that meant she could tell me stuff. Like, for one, she'd Done It. She wouldn't tell me who, but she had done it and more than once and she liked it. A lot. She also told me that at some point during the day -- probably when she went downstairs to get the disgusting Cherry Kool-Aid for us -- she'd been briefly alone with Dan and kissed him again and touched his hard on. He'd made her stop. He'd told her she was a little young for that and she'd told him she was more than willing to give him a demonstration of her abilities and he'd told her she should wait a little longer for that. By the time she finished the tale -- and we were nearing her house, in the dark small-town Ohio July night -- her nipples were stiff as pencil points inside her sadly flat tee-shirt. "And I really want to -- y'know -- DO IT with him now." That was when we heard the noise from the side of the house. Quietly, we crept to the edge of the hedge and looked. My phantom step-brother was licking Dorothy's nipples. They were clinching in the shadows near a tree -- an elm, I remember distinctly -- and he had her light shirt raised and her bra opened. Her breasts were truly magnificent and he was giving them their due. He cupped them gently in his hand -- they needed hardly any support of any kind, as large and thrusting as they were -- and was running his lips over and around them and then licking and sucking her nipples. Her flush was visible even in the shadows. Her cutoff clad legs were wide and he was rubbing his hand over the tightly-stretched denim over her cunt and she was rubbing up against his fingers. I was horrified and turned on at the same time. "Do you think they're gonna do it?" Irene whispered. I just shook my head, unwilling to trust my voice. I watched him caress those lovely sixteen-year-old tits and the damp jeans taut over her swampy sixteen-year-old cunt and I was sure he was going to fuck her...but when he tried to unsnap the waist of the cutoffs, she stopped him. Again and again, no matter how turned on they got, she stopped him. As I'd expected. They were at that awful point where she was rubbing his dick through his now-very-tight jeans and he was rubbing her pussy hard enough to split the soaked fabric of her jeans and I was ready to stand up and march over and offer to take over for her, since she seemed unwilling to do the right thing herself. At that very point the side door opened and the outside light came on -- one of those yellow things that's not supposed to attract bugs but always does -- and Shana stuck her head out. "Hey, you guys -- getting late." And ducked back in. They stayed there in the shadows for a few minutes more, murmuring and cuddling and then she stood and he stood and they clinched and then she walked off alone down the safe summer streets of that little town. Dan had a huge bulge in the front of his jeans. He stood, watching her until she was out of sight, and then sighed and went inside. "Did you see his hard-on?" Irene whispered excitedly. "The way his jeans were all stuck out from it?" She giggled. I glanced at her. Even in the shadows I could see her flush -- and the stiff points of her nipples against her shirt. "Isn't he hot?" I nodded and thought about it. My plan was foolproof. He'd just spent about forty minutes getting turned on by her and needed relief. So far so good. He was going to be staying over in the same house as me. Still good. Aunt Mimi's snoring would pretty much have immunized everyone in the house against waking at small sounds. Right on track. And Dan was going to be mooning over Dorothy and that was bad. He was such a romantic -- not that he'd ever admit it -- that he'd probably not even look at another woman, let alone a girl who happened to be his step- sister. It would be like Dan to think of that as being unfaithful. "We'd better go inside," I said. Irene and I sneaked through the bushes, then walked loudly down the sidewalk and entered the front door. Dan was sitting up with Shana, watching an Outer Limits episode. Everyone else was sleeping. We got some pop and sat with him for a while. Irene excused herself after a while and came back in a shorty nightgown. You could glimpse her lean silhouette through it, but that didn't make any difference; there wasn't much to see. Shana said that looked like a good idea and did the same. With her lustrous, dark curls and dark flashing eyes, she looked so lovely that I began to think about her, for the first time, as a woman and not as my sweet cousin. As the show ended and the news came on WTOL, channel 11 -- which we had to watch to get the scores for his damn ol' Mets -- I excused myself and changed, too. I'd brought just a simple, summer-light shorty nightgown. I didn't bother with a bra. When I came back in the room, Shana -- always forthright -- said, "My goodness, Marie! Where did you ever get those big, uh, bosoms? You make me feel positively flat-chested!" "How do you think she makes me feel?" Irene murmured. "They were on sale at Tiedtke's," I said. "Don't you think Marie has a great figure, Dan?" Shana asked. "Fantastic," he said. "Sometimes I wish she wasn't my sister or a kid." "Some kid," Shana said. "When I grow up, I want to have a bod like that `kid'!" Then sports report came on and Dan made us all shut up while he listened to how his damn ol' Mets had lost to the Dodgers. After the news came the late show -- Forbidden Planet. Shana had to get up at six for her job at the Five & Dime. She gave Dan a peck on the cheek and said good-night and admonished Irene and I not to stay up too late. Then she went upstairs to bed. I heard her washing up and then I heard the door to her room close and lock. I went to the kitchen and got more pop. I made sure to walk in front of the TV and sit up on the floor at an angle. After a few minutes, Irene said, "Marie, you better move. I can see right through that gown in the TV light. And so can Dan." "Oh, don't worry," I said, never taking my eyes off the TV. "He's my step-brother and I'm just a kid. He probably doesn't even notice." "I notice." "I noticed you noticed," Irene chipped in. I looked this time, when Irene started to giggle. Dan was blushing. He had another hard-on. "Irene!" I said. "You, too!" She pointed. I looked down. My nipples were hard and pointed and clearly so for being silhouetted. "Nice view." "I don't care who looks," I said. "It doesn't bother Dan." "Well, actually, it does." I turned and looked right at him. "Does it really?" He nodded. "And you know it." Irene suddenly made a great show of yawning. "Well, I'm going to hit the hay. See ya in the morning!" She gave Dan a big wet kiss right on the lips, holding his face with her hands and making the kiss longer than it should have been, and then she went upstairs, too. I was still staring at Dan. "Want me to move?" He nodded. I was starting to think my plan had a chance, after all. I stood and took my time walking toward him, staying between the TV and him. His eyes were on my tits. "That was some good night kiss." "Yes." "I can top that." I bent at the waist and watched his eyes follow my tits as the nighty drooped and gave him a good view. Then I duplicated Irene's action: I took his face in my hands and kissed him on the lips. And -- maybe -- added a wrinkle of my own by pressing at his lips with my tongue until he finally let it in. By the time I drew my lips away, I was dripping wet and wondered if he could smell my juices. I kissed him again and this time took his hands and led them to me, till he was cupping my tits. He started to fondle my breasts -- and suddenly pulled his hands away and pushed me gently away. "Don't," he said. "This is wrong." "I want -- " "It's still wrong, to me." I stood in front of him. "But you want me, I know you do." He nodded. "A lot. And doubly because -- well, you know." "Know what?" He changed the subject abruptly: "That was you watching Dorothy and me, wasn't it?" "You knew?" He looked at me as if the question was stupid. I countered: "Well, I won't leave you all frustrated." He groaned softly. "Dammit, Marie, don't tempt me like this. I want us to be friends." "And we can't be friends and do that, too?" "You know we can't." I looked down at him. His dick was sticking up like a tent pole inside his jeans. His breathing was shallow and fast. His lips had been sweet and I kept thinking what it would be like to have him mouthing my breasts the way he'd been doing it with Dorothy and I was terribly annoyed, because I knew that when Dan dug in his heels, nothing was going to move him. "Damn you!" I hissed and stalked upstairs. I sat in the bathroom for a long time, trying to calm down, then I took a hot bath and masturbated like crazy. It didn't help enough. Finally, sometime around one, I went and crawled onto the mattress in the middle of the floor in Irene's room. I slept, frustrated and horny. But not soundly. Which was why I woke when Irene got up. I could almost get back to sleep, so I lay there quietly and tried to will sleep. After a while, I realized she hadn't come back to bed and there was no noise in the bathroom. I got up to investigate. All the other doors -- to Shana's room and her brother's room and my aunt and uncle's room -- were closed on the second floor. So I crept quietly down the stairs. The TV was still on, the sound very low. The TV was the only source of light in the room. It was enough. There were plants on a little opening in the stairwell and I peered between the leaves. My tan and dark complexion helped, too. Natural born commando, that was me. Irene was sitting next to Dan on the floor in front of the couch. She had some crackerjacks in one hand. The bowl was on the other side of Dan from her. She was looking at his crotch and he was looking at her face. I could just hear what they were saying as Forbidden Planet was getting close to the end. "Why do you keep touching me there, Irene?" Dan said. "You wouldn't like it if I was always touching you there." She shrugged and munched her Crackerjacks. "I like it. Don't you? Timmy likes it, all the time. I touch him lots of ways." "What ways?" She swallowed the last of her confection. "Promise you won't tell and I'll show you." He hesitated a long time. I could see his cock throbbing inside his jeans. Finally, he nodded. "Promise." She slowly put her hand over his dick-bulge and then and unzipped his jeans. She reached inside and fished out his dick. It stood straight up. She gripped it tightly in her little hand and jerked a little on it. His breathing got shallower. "You can touch me, too, y'know," Irene said, leaning over and staring up intently into his face. Her hair was all disheveled and sun- blonde and her face was cute, but very sensual. Her eyes said she knew exactly what she was doing. "Please?" She turned sideways, kneeling spread-legged next to him. She took his hand and led it between her legs, under her nighty. I knew when he began caressing her, because her eyes half closed and her mouth opened a bit. She bent and licked the head of his cock and he groaned softly. She kept licking and jerking and then she stiffened and I knew he was sliding his finger into her little slit. Her skinny young hips began hunching up and down. She released his cock and unfastened his pants, He lifted his butt as she pulled them down his thighs. He kicked them off the rest of the way, because her hands had gone back to his dick and his balls. She opened her mouth and took the head of his prick inside and I watched him again lift his hips and heard him murmur, "Damn, damn, damn..." She took his other hand and led it to the front of her nightgown. He searched for and found her nipples and rubbed them, then moved his hand to her head and caressed her face. She opened her mouth and spread her lips wide to take more of his thick cock in her mouth. She had soft, full lips, but she was small and her mouth was small for her face and she had it filled with just the head of his cock. She began bobbing her head up and down on him, still jerking with one small hand. She shifted back to get her face lower over him. The girl was young, but she definitely knew how to suck cock and she definitely was enjoying herself. Dan was arching toward her. "I'm gonna -- gonna -- " "Mmm-HMMM!" It was muffled, but definitely affirmative. She reached down with her other hand and began caressing his balls -- of which I had a great view -- and then he started to cum. She sucked and gurgled and swallowed and he came for what seemed a long time. She was utterly intent on sucking and drinking him. I couldn't even feel jealous -- just envious. She was jerking with her hand harder and faster and I watched her little cheeks concave and bloat and saw her throat work as she swallowed. He came a lot and some slipped out around her lips, lubricating her hand on his shaft. Finally, his spasms became irregular and then slowed and then stopped. She sucked his limpening dick in and pushed it partially out of her mouth rapidly, like a little kid playing with a piece of spaghetti. He sank back to the floor and groaned, deep and relieved. She let his prick slide out of her mouth and it flopped between his legs. Her lips were all slick and spermy, and so was his cock. He pulled her up to him and cuddled her close, but she was having none of that. She pulled her nightgown up over her head and jammed one enormously swollen nipple into his mouth. He took it greedily, licking it and maybe even chewing a little on it. Irene sighed and pulled his hand back between her legs. Her ass was so tiny and her body was so lean and smooth! It was all glistening with perspiration and she looked slippery and sinuous as an eel -- a sexy young eel. He reached back and squeezed her cheeks, then slid his fingers back and caressed her little, smooth cunt. Finally, he extended Badfinger and she settled happily onto it and jerked her hips up and down. I could see his cock re-erecting. In no time at all, it was hard again, solid as a brick and looking just as thick compared to her lithe slenderness. She murmured something to him I couldn't hear. His reply was audible: "But I'm afraid of hurting you." She said something that was obviously reassuring and shifted so she was straddling him. "First, I want this," he said. His hands came around and cupped -- and covered -- her ass. He guided her until she was standing over him, with his head resting back against the couch and then he began to eat her. Now I was definitely jealous, because from the way he ate her, I knew she was getting it good. He licked and sucked and nibbled and mouthed and tongued her. I watched her ass clench and her hips hunch and I watched her thighs shake as she came and came again. I could see her juices on his chin. He worked his hands around her farther and slid one finger against the back of her cunt and she shook above him. He worked the finger of another hand between those tightly squeezed, corded masses of hard little ass and she pushed back and against it, taking it into her teeny butt-hole to the first joint. I saw her tense until every muscle in her back was clearly defined and great beads of sweat popped out all over her body and she came again. Finally she couldn't stand and he lowered her against him. She sobbed into his shoulder and shivered again as he caressed her back and kissed her forehead. She said something to soft for me to hear. -- and I heard him say, incredulously, "Never? No one? But you taste so sweet, how can anyone resist?" "The same way you resist Marie." That was clear enough. My eyes widened, and there was no one to see them. He looked troubled for a moment, but then she was sliding down until her little cunt was nestled against the throbbing thickness of his glans. She eased herself up and reached down in her crouch to spread her labia and then she slowly worked her cunt onto the knob. "Damn that feels good, cousin Dan!" She worked her way down onto him, impaling herself on my step- brother's solid dick. It stretched her little cunt a lot, and she really seemed to be enjoying it. She was very wet, and when she'd taken it all and began raising herself up again, his emerging cock was shining brightly in the light of the television. She levered herself up and down, faster and faster, groaning and sighing as he panted: "You're so tight and hot -- Ahhhh!" I watched him move one hand out of sight, on her front to nipple height. She jammed herself down and shook against him, vibrating those narrow, prepubescent hips over him. His balls started to jerk. Then he moved his hand lower and twisted his arm and I guessed: He was moving his thumb over her clitoris. She shook faster and harder and then held herself still against him and quietly shrieked her pleasure. His balls pulled up tight and throbbed and I could see her cunt lips stretch and thin around his fat prick as it swelled with each spurt. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard and long as he came in her and she came with him. They collapsed together and lay like that for a long time. She pulled her little cunt off his cock slowly and then put her nighty back on. "Promise you won't tell?" "No one," he vowed. She giggled. "Can we do it again -- soon?" "I hope so, Irene. That was terrific." He pulled himself upright and slid back into his jeans. "But not tonight." She giggled again. "Y'know, Marie wants to do that with you." He nodded as he sat heavily on the couch and ad on the television began touting the great deal at Bender's Buick on Alexis Road. "I'd like to do it with her, too, but I can't." "Why not? You're not blood relations any more than you and I are." "Because she's special, in a different way. Some day we'll need to be able to talk to each other in a special way and this -- " He nodded toward her and the place where they'd fucked. "-- would get in the way. I'm not sure why, but I don't think it's a good idea." "Well, if you'd rather do it with me than with someone with a bod like hers, that's not a problem for me!" She was positively glowing. She gave him a big kiss and I took that as my cue to go into fake slumber mode where they both figured I should be: On the mattress in Irene's room. I had a lot to think about. For one thing, I'd just watched my little -- in every sense of the word -- cousin do everything but rape my step-brother. And she'd enjoyed it as much as she'd confided she enjoyed fucking. And I'd just heard her put in a pitch on my behalf! And I'd just heard Dan tell her what he'd never told me: Some of the reason why he kept restraining himself and me from getting it on. I didn't mean to, but I dozed off pretty fast and resented waking in the sunlit morning. No matter. I did. Irene never told me of her escapade with Dan and I couldn't very well ask, could I? Dan and Dorothy never got together again -- she kept putting him off, the fool -- and the Fourth came and went and then so was he, back to his city and his girlfriends there. I was left with memories and fantasies and questions. I sort of coasted through the rest of the summer, developing just as fast as I before. It seemed like only a few days before school began. School. My freshman year in high school. I remember it vividly -- because that was the year the stolen pictures and the shots taken by Ed Sautter came back to haunt me and hurt me more than I had been hurt since -- well, since the first time. [Later. I promise.] CHAPTER 11 I spent most of the rest of the summer getting even with Dana and Irene and -- most of all -- Dan...in my mind. I fucked everyone I could and with the figure I had, I could get just about anyone I wanted. And I wanted a lot. Just before Labor Day, I hitched a ride out to Perrysburg with three Mexicans. I was so dark and swarthy that they assumed I was Mexican and were surprised that I didn't understand their Spanish. Only one of them spoke English and he wasn't very good with it. None of them was more than eighteen. I was wearing a bandeau under a tee-shirt and a pair of shorts and this goofy straw hat. It was really hot -- about ninety degrees and there was no breeze. They were riding in an old junker of a Rambler that didn't have a good muffler in it. The one who spoke English asked me how old I was. When I told him I was fourteen -- lying by two years -- and he translated, there was some muttering from the others. "We are unhappy. We believed you to have more years." He seemed genuinely sad. Well, I could understand the mistake. I measured 29-19-26 and would have worn a C cup if there'd been such a thing in a bra that size. I was taut and smooth and with my hair long and tousled, I could easily pass for older. So I said that was no reason to be sad and he said, Yes, it was, because they had thought I might like to have some fun, but I was too young. Now, I'd always heard stories and bad jokes -- What's a 10-year-old Mexican virgin? A girl who can outrun her brothers -- and politely tried to explain I'd thought 14 was not too young for a girl to have fun, if she was Mexican. They were unhappy at that. Every one of them had brothers and sisters my "age" and younger and they were very proud that their sibs -- [Siblings. Am I going too fast for you? [Yeah, I know. I'm just feeling kind of bitchy and edgy. Ready?] Well, they were proud that their little brothers and sisters were pure and went to church regularly. I turned and looked at the two in the back and then again at the one in the front and said, I like to have fun, I have been having fun for a long time and would they like have some fun with me? We want to an old maintenance shanty near the rail yards. They'd adopted it and fixed it up as best they could with no money and had turned it into a kind of club house. It was clearly bachelor -- covered with pinups from Playboy -- but it was neat and clean and they were polite and solicitous. I didn't get to Perrysburg. I stayed there with them for about five hours. They were young, they were horny and they were incredibly virile. I had each of them three or four times. One of them -- the oldest -- wanted to try me in the ass, but as soon as I told him it was hurting, he stopped, apologized and withdrew. Oddly, though they were fascinated by nearly hairless pussy, none of them would eat me. Which was okay, as it turned out, because they had a good-natured contest of seeing who could make me cum the most often just by fucking. [I forget. No -- wait: I won.] They took turns, and they only time anyone was at all rough was when they touched my tits. Even then, it wasn't that they were mauling me; all three worked as day laborers and had very rough and calloused hands. One of the pinups on the wall was Gwen Wong, this Playmate with huge tits and long nipples and a very young face. One of the guys said that if my eyes were slanted, I could look a lot like her. The other two protested that I was prettier. And we fucked some more. I was sore for three days, but never regretted it. Then school started, my freshman year, and it was inevitable that I'd be invited to try out for cheerleader. I had no interest in that, though, and my refusal caused some resentment. The only extracurriculars -- official extracurriculars, that is -- I wanted anything to do with were gymnastics (which wouldn't have me because my figure was too pronounced for exhibition in a leotard) and the school paper. The school paper was a joke. We couldn't print anything the school didn't like or anything unpleasant. It was more of a pep sheet than anything else. We did personality profiles on the administration's favorites, the good examples -- never on the interesting students or activities. Still, it was fun to have official permission to go up to strangers and ask nosy questions. I wasn't seeing George anymore, of course, as he'd told me about meeting his distant cousin and they were mad for each other and that was that. We remained friends. But I didn't have a steady and satisfying boyfriend, not like George, and I was still trying to work the summer's non-events with Dan out of my head. So I was trolling. The problem was that in such a strictly supervised environment, I had to be very careful with my schoolmates. Since the town was already starting to split over the Vietnam War protests, the cops were enforcing the old curfew laws on kids under sixteen, so I couldn't just go and hang out much, either. Then the campaigns started for class presidents. I did a couple of interviews and heard the usual crap from all the candidates. Even the one who was being drafted. He didn't really want the job or the nonsense that went with it, but time and again he'd been the one to come up with innovative ideas for persistent problems and twice he'd successfully mediated disputes -- once, over an antiwar protest and once over race. But after the interview was over, he said something that really got my interest. "One thing I'd suggest would be giving class credit for volunteer work." I took out my notebook but he stopped me. His name was Tyrell Hamilton, he was six feet tall and handsome and well-spoken and about the shade of Mom's coffee after she added a tablespoon of milk. "Don't bother," he said. "They'll never let you print it. And they'll never go along with it when I suggest it." I kept the notebook out. I was taking Gregg Shorthand and doing real well with it. [Yes. And I brought it. See? And these are verbatim notes.] "Why do you think it's important?" He laughed softly. "Because -- Look around you. Eight hundred students. About three dozen aren't white. Maybe a hundred don't come from middle- or upper-class homes. All Catholic. We are so much alike here that we have no idea how the rest of Toledo lives." "You think we need more integration, is that it?" I was a little suspicious. "Not racial integration," he said. "Social integration. The only reason there aren't more Afro-Americans here is there aren't more Afro- Americans who have the money and the academic qualifications. The nuns and the other students here generally don't give a damn about that." "There're exceptions." "There're always exceptions." We were walking slowly down the first floor corridor toward the parking lot. The place was almost empty. From far, far away I could hear the echoes of cheerleading practice and someone was dribbling a basketball. "But even there, we're too much alike. The real world has poor people and rich people. It has Protestants and Jews and atheists. It has Birchers and antiwar activists. It has bigots. It has thieves and muggers and bums and saints." "We'll meet them soon enough." He held the door for me. "That's my point. We get out of school here and about half go to college and some go into the army and some move away, but we all meet the real world -- and we don't have the faintest idea how to deal with it. We meet people who are fundamentally different and it scares us and we get uptight and we don't react well. And they don't react well to us." "So it feeds on itself." We were in the middle of the nearly empty parking lot. He spun, his eyes bright and his face animated. "Yes! And the hatred and suspicion and fear takes charge -- and all because we're inexperienced: We have no education in people!" "And you think encouraging supervised volunteer work would help us get some experience with different people in different situations." "Within the context of a goal-oriented guidance system and with the benefit -- " " -- of more experienced leaders who can teach us how to evaluate and respond -- " " -- to unfamiliar and sometimes frightening circumstances! Yes!" "And then, when we go into the real world, we understand a little more, because we've already tested ourselves in strange waters -- " " -- and found that we can swim, because we learned to do it -- " " -- in a school?" I groaned at the pun. "Sounds fishy?" he asked innocently. "Holy mackerel." "No, it's 'Holy mackerel dere, Kingfish.'" "I guess I just don't have any soul." "But you're still one smart filly." I frowned. "Filly of soul?" he suggested. I groaned again. We both started laughing. Tyrell offered to drive me home. I didn't think twice. We talked more on the way. We really hit it off, instant chemistry, and it had started from the neck up, for a change. He let me out in front of my house and I waved good-bye. Inside, Jeanne was home, and Mom. Jeanne immediately pulled me into our room. "Marie, did you -- you know?" I stared at her. "What?" "Who was that?" I told her and she said, "Well, does he really have a big one? They say all of them have huge -- " The look on my face stunned her. "Jeanne, I interviewed him for the paper and he gave me a ride home." "You didn't do it with him?" "No -- though now that you mention it, it's not such a bad idea, I mean, he is awful good-looking and ..." "Marie! He's a nigger!" I was the one who was stunned this time. How had we grown up together and been so close -- so very close -- without me knowing this about her? Because we never encountered anyone who was really different. "Jeanne, he's a man who's a little darker than me. A smart, polite, good-looking man. I think he and I might get to be friends. And don't you ever use that word in front of me again." She seemed a little shocked by that and I suppose I was, too. Socially conscious Marie -- as of about forty minutes before. But it was true. Something had happened to me during the time after the interview with Tyrell Hamilton. Something burned inside him and the flames had caught me, too. My main concerns had been getting laid, passing my class, getting laid, wondering when they were going to have a sale at Penney's, getting laid and getting even with Dana and Irene. Suddenly, I was thinking about things that were in the far distant future, beyond the great dividing line of Graduation, beyond 1971, which was a date lost in tomorrow. Suddenly, I was thinking about things like responsibility and understanding and harmony. And I was spending a lot of time thinking about Tyrell. Well, was it true what they say? [Yes, I saw Blazing Saddles. Okay?] I started spending more and more time with the juniors and seniors than I already was -- which was a lot, since I found most of the kids who were my age were kind of backward. I started hanging out with the crowd Tyrell spent time with. And pretty soon, I was fairly regularly sitting next to him at our basketball games -- and thus having him drive me home. After the fifth game -- against Penta; we lost -- I got impatient. "Ty, aren't you ever going to ask me out?" We were at a grade-crossing, waiting for an endless freight to pass, down by East Broadway. He waiting about a three-count and turned his face toward me. "You have to be kidding." "Why?" "You're white and I'm not and you're not even 13 yet!" "So?" "Are you nuts? I'm almost eighteen!" "So? I want you, Ty." "So? That's statutory rape and considering that I'm not white, the police will probably fire five or six warning shots -- into the back of my little burr head!" "Ty! You know me! We're friends, for crying out loud." "And that's fine -- but that's it, girl." He watched me. "What the hell are you doing?" What I was doing, for the benefit of those who weren't there, was pulling my sweater off and unbuttoning my blouse. "Guess." "Marie!" The blouse was off and I was reaching back and under for the hooks on my ill-fitting bra. A moment later and it was gone, too, and not only did it feel good to have the constriction of my tits, it made me feel somehow wild and free to be sitting there with my boobs bare in his car so anyone could look in -- even in the dark -- and see me. "Tyrell Leroy Hamilton, you will not be my first and you probably won't be my last and if you don't promise to make love with me I am going to jump out of this car and yell, `Help! This nigger's trying to rape me!'" "Marie, I want you." His words, so calm and easy and serious, froze me. "But you're trying to take charge of me and I won't have that. Be my friend and we may become lovers, some day -- but I won't have an owner for a friend or a lover." I hadn't thought of it that way. I started pulling my blouse back on. The caboose of the endless freight rumbled slowly by. Behind us, car engines were starting. I felt like a shit. "I'm sorry." He was shaking his head as the crossing gates came up and we started across the tracks. We drove across the tracks in silence. We drove down to East Broadway in silence. As we pulled up onto the road that would take us back to my house, I finally said, "Dammit, Ty, say something?" "You have truly amazing breasts. I didn't know they were so big or lovely." "I'd really like you to get more acquainted with them. And more." "Doesn't sound all bad. By the way ..." "Yes?" "Do you know where we were parked when you threatened to get out and yell for help?" I thought about it -- and then it hit me. "Uh-huh," he said. "Niggerville. Jigaboo Town. You could have precipitated a race riot back there." I was glad for the night, so he wouldn't see me blushing in embarrassment. Then I noticed he'd driven right past the street where I lived. "Where?" "I want to show you something." I started to get my hopes up, but then I remembered what he was like and calmed down, fast. And with cause. Ty drove us down past the Anderson grain elevators and parked. It was dark there. He got out and a moment later I did, too. We were looking across the Maumee River and had a really lovely view of the water and downtown Toledo. "It's awfully pretty," I said. "Until you get there," he said. "Until you get down on Washington and Jefferson. Go by the Valentine or the Blade or to one of the Purple Cows. Then it's just as ugly." We were standing close. I pulled his arm around me. It felt good. "People can be like that, too. Beautiful and impressive till you get up close and then you see them for what they are and see all the ugly things in them." I moved till I stood in front of him and pulled his other arm around me. I covered his hands with mine and held them across my breasts. "I've been close to you, Ty. I am close to you. I don't see ugly." "I -- I've done bad things." I kept my mouth shut. "I hurt someone. Hurt bad. Someone who shouldn't have been hurt." I held his hands tight over my tits. And listened. It had happened when he was fourteen and hanging out with other kids his age. All of them were black, kids he knew in Niggerville. One of them knew this girl who was just asking for it. She was lithe and lean and tight and had a great ass and the way she talked and acted, they knew she was just asking for it and they knew that if someone gave her some wine, she'd do them all. So someone gave her some wine. And she did them all. Many times. Long past the end of the wine. Long past her willingness. "I'd never been with anyone before and even when she was crying and asking us to stop, we kept doing it." Except him. He'd persuaded the others to stop and let her go. "That sounds like good to me, not bad," I said. "It was -- but it wasn't the end." A few months later, she came by his house when he was home alone. She'd been drinking wine. She'd gone into that phase when a girl just suddenly blossoms. She wasn't a skinny kid with a great ass, not any more. She was a young siren, blooming. And she wanted to thank him. "I should've made her go away." But he hadn't. They'd spent the entire afternoon, before his parents or siblings came home, fucking wildly. He figured he must have cum in her four or five times. Whenever he got limp, she did things -- "With her mouth." -- to make him ready again...and at fourteen-almost-fifteen he could get ready a lot. "That's not hurting someone," I told him. "Yes it was. I wanted to do it more with her and when she wanted more wine, I let her have it from Momma's closet so I could do it more." The problem came a couple of months later. "One of the guys said she was dead." I went cold all over when he said that. "Dead?" She'd gotten pregnant and gone to the only abortionist a poor thirteen-year-old girl -- black or white -- in Toledo could find in those moral, enlightened days. That night, she'd begun hemmorhaging. She was DOA at St.Charles. "I killed her." I turned to him. His arms dropped away as soon as I released his hands. "That's not true." He was nodding, tear-stained cheeks glimmering in the night. "Me. I got her pregnant and -- and -- " "And you were the only guy she ever fucked?" He blinked. "Yeah -- fucked." I said it hard. "Well, no, of course not, but -- " "You figure you're the only guy who fucked her that month?" He tried to turn away. I grabbed him, my arms around his waist. "Well?" "I -- I -- " "You know you weren't. Hell, she was probably fucking another guy that day -- the same one who gave her the wine before she got to your house." "But what I did was wrong -- " "She wanted it, didn't she? She went out of her way to ask for it? She wanted to keep doing it? And you figure it's your fault?" "She was just a kid!" "So were you." "So are you." "I'm young, but I haven't been a kid since ... " I almost told him, but couldn't. "Well, I'm no kid." I pulled his arms around me. "Hold me." And that's what he did -- just held me, close and strong and scared and sobbing and trying to fight it all back, trying to be the tough young buck, figuring this so-called white girl -- [Cause it's true. Put my hand down on a piece of paper -- here. See? Do I look "white" now? Right. You do it -- see? Kind of off-beige. What gets called "black" isn't really black. When was the last time you saw someone dark enough to even try to qualify for "black"? [Yeah, I thought so. So you think about this: Those aren't colors or races or hues, they're just the fucking labels we use so we can generalize or categorize and excuse ourself from thinking any farther than the label. [Okay? [Your goddam right I'm hot about it! Want to find out why? Listen.] -- this so-called white girl wouldn't figure him out, but I did, because when you're that close, there's no color, no race, just holding and being held, and I have a news flash for all the racial purity folks: We're all the same. The reason I know is that holding Ty, I could see through him just like anyone else. He was just looking to stop hurting, same as me and you and anyone else. Hurting doesn't have a race, unless the race is Human. Well, one thing led to another and before long I was doing more than holding. His was the first uncircumcized cock I'd ever held or sucked or fucked, and when he came, he groaned and he cried, and I understood that. He was crying cause there was nothing left in him that he hadn't shared, so I held him till the sun came up and we never talked about that -- but something had been established, a bond, you know? We never did anything sexual again. I sneaked into the house and -- Miracle of miracles -- no one caught me. I took that as a Sign. I lay awake for a long time, thinking that this was amazing -- knowing even then we weren't going to be lovers again -- that this afro senior and me were that close that we'd used fucking and sucking and loving to seal our bond, and it felt right. Damn, but if felt good and close and tight. But no way that was going to be left alone. No way. The weeks passed and about ten days before the class elections, I went over to room 128, which was the room Ty's backers had drawn from the pool as a campaign headquarters. I went over there pretty much every day and it was more and more crowded, which was a good sign. When I walked in, the place went quiet. Everyone was looking at me. I said Hello to a few people and looked around, but Ty wasn't in sight and when I asked Chuck -- who had sort of fallen into managing the campaign -- where Ty was, he just shrugged and said he had to go. The same thing happened with the next four people I asked. Pretty soon, I was alone in that room. It felt like a mortuary. I called his house and they told me he wasn't home yet, so I left my name and number. When he hadn't called back, I called again at nine- thirty and they told me he'd gone to bed early because he wasn't feeling well. I didn't see him around school the next day, a Thursday, but I did notice that some of his mimeographed campaign posters were missing. I knew he worked after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays and I knew where, so I hitched a ride out to the shopping center to discount store where he was a stock clerk. When I saw his battered old junker in the parking lot, I felt better -- whatever was going on, Ty was not too sick or hurt to go to work. I found him in the back of the store, unloading boxes of toasters from the back of a truck pulled right up to the loading dock. There were two other guys working with him. One of them noticed me and said something and the other turned and muttered something to Ty. The two other guys were staring at my tits -- I was wearing a tank top, but they were still too big to hide. Ty saw me, took a deep breath and told the other guys he was going to take a short break. I followed him off the loading dock and we went back to stand near the trees that lined the truck road behind the store. "What's going on, Ty? I went to 128 to find you and -- " "I'm withdrawing from the election." "What? Why?" "And we can't be together any more." "What the hell -- " "That's all there is to it." He started to walk away but I grabbed his arm and jerked him back toward me. "Like hell it is. You tell me what's going on and you tell me now!" "It doesn't matter -- " "It does to me!" So then he took an envelope from his pocket and from the envelope he took the photographs and held them out to me. I recognized the top two; they'd been missing from George's basement workshop. I didn't recognize the others, because I'd never seen them. But I knew when they were taken. There I was laying on my back, sucking a huge cock with a dripping, open pussy right over my face. I was stunned, but managed to say, "I don't get it." "If I run in the election, I'll win. If I win, these photos -- and some films, I was told -- start making the rounds. You'll be ruined. Your family will be ruined." "Who -- " "I don't know. There was a letter with the pictures. No return address, no signature. It just said quote that if a nigger won the school election, his white cunt was going to be the famous underaged piece of ass in the state of Ohio unquote." "They're bluffing." He snorted. "I don't think so. And I don't know how they found out what we did unless someone -- like you -- told them." "I didn't tell a soul! And who told all the people in 128 it was my fault?" He handed me the envelope. It was addressed to Chuck. I felt my guts go icy and I thought for a minute I was going to be sick. Ty was right. They weren't bluffing. And I knew who they were, too. And he was right about us not being together again. "I'm so sorry, Ty. I'm so -- " I couldn't say anything else, so I just shook my head and ran away from him, crying. I walked all the way home, about six miles, and didn't get there till past dark. Mom was pissed off, but by the time I got home, she wasn't nearly as pissed off as I was and when I told her that this wasn't the time to start with me, she got the message and turned into superMom, wanting to know if I wanted to talk about it. I told her I had to work it out for myself. And that's what I did. I figured it out for myself. Ed Sautter had stolen the photos from George's workshop and he had sent the hate mail and blackmail threat. It didn't seem likely that he'd done it alone, either. That kind of racist is a coward and can never do anything alone. They always have to have a half-dozen or so people helping them, usually hiding their faces. I called Roger the next day and told him what had happened. I asked him if Ed couldn't get in trouble with the law for having that stuff in his house. He explained about search warrants and said he'd ask a buddy on the State Police. When he called me back, he said Sautter could make a stink and drag a lot of stuff out in court, if it got to court. But, he said, his pal had told him there was someone else who'd be interested and if I wanted, Roger would take care of it. He wouldn't tell me anything else. He told me I'd have to trust him. I finally agreed to let him take care of it. I didn't hear anything else for about three days, during which time the Ty-less election came and went. The Toledo Blade story reported that the coroner had ruled it an accident. Sautter had apparently been taking drugs and stumbled into the pool, striking his head on the edge as he fell. His roommate found him floating, in the morning. He hadn't heard Sautter return from his business meeting with three men in a black Lincoln. The roommate thought Sautter had sold much of his photography equipment to the men, because Sautter and two of the men had pretty well cleaned out his darkroom. The police said more than thousand in cash had been found in Sautter's pocket, so they gave the story credence. The roommate and Sautter's girlfriend were so shaken by the tragedy, said the newspaper, that they were going to leave the area and try to start their lives over. Their exact destinations were undecided. Years later, of course, I figured out who Roger had called and why they'd been so persuasive. After all, Ed was cutting into their territory by making porno films. And he was jeopardizing their whole business because citizens tend to get outraged at all porno films when something involving minors get into distribution, even willing minors. At the time, though, the only thing that puzzled me was who had let on to what Ty and me had done that long, weeping night. I was mooning around the house, all morose and sad because of how good I'd imagined we could be together -- a luxury I could indulge because we hadn't been together long enough for all the normal hassles and irritations to mar the dream -- and I'd sort of fixated on figuring out who had spilled the beans. Maybe Ty had told one of his friends and he'd said something? That didn't seem like Ty. Or had we been seen? Who? I found out by an accidental, chance remark. Jeanne was a year behind me and still going to the prison school. Her eighth-grade class had been treated to a one-day photography workshop run by guess which guest teacher? You got it. He noticed the similarity in names, asked her after the class, pumped her for information about me and tried -- and failed -- to talk her into posing for him. "When I told him you were always with Ty, he got all red in the face, but he said he was okay, so I didn't think anything about it." But he had. And it had led to his death, to Ty's not running in a school election he would surely have won -- and all the good things that might have come of that -- and, not incidentally, to breaking my heart. She hadn't had the least idea the damage she was doing. Hell, I would have told him as much, myself. But very innocently and openly, she'd done something that caused me to hurt like I'd only hurt once before. [I promise. I'll tell you...later.] I sort of withdrew from everything after that. I quit the school paper and really buckled down to the books. I didn't have a social life, except for one weekend I stayed out with Charlene (and actually spent most of the time naked, with Roger). My grades soared and I discovered the library and then I discovered Jane Austin and Emily Bronte and, finally, Colette. I turned into a bookworm. Mom was ecstatic. Jeanne was puzzled. Dad was...well, he was Dad. Even Alexis the Pure was impressed. I started writing letters to my phantom step-brother, some of which I even mailed and he wrote back. Then I joined Pen Pal and started writing to kids around the world. It passed the time. The endless Toledo gray winter came and went and then it was spring and I took to reading in the park, when I could. I found myself spending most of what little social time I had with freaks -- so-called, because in those days, you were either a Freak or a Straight -- who were the only ones (besides nerds) who read books for pleasure. In May of '68 I met Terrence Molonari and his twin, older brothers, while I was hitching to Navarre Park for a -- don't laugh -- poetry reading. I never got to the poetry reading. CHAPTER TWELVE Okay. So...Terry. And that's when I began to grow up, no thanks to him or his twin, older brothers. But they were responsible for my becoming responsible, in a way. I was trying to hitch a ride out to the park, where a bunch of Freaks were having a poetry reading. I was wearing one of those, uh, granny dresses, with an empire waist high under my tits -- which were a good 30 inches, which doesn't sound like much except that the rest of me was still kid-small -- and all sorts of billowy fabric around a 19-inch waist and 26-inch hips, hiding it all. My hair was still long, then, almost to the small of my back, and I was wearing a big ol' straw hat and heart-shaped sunglasses. I figured I looked sophisticated and mature, with my book -- Tennyson's poetry -- and my get-up. So when a beat up old '64 'Stang pulled over with Terrence Molinari behind the wheel, I thought I had a lift, and that was that, I mean, Terry was the official mascot. Really. He was too small and skinny to play anything except intramurals, but he loved sports so much that he'd become a cheerleader and usually dressed up as the school mascot, in this really ratty-looking bulldog costume. Terry was nearsighted and wore glasses that looked like coke-bottle bottoms and always wore a Detroit Tigers or Lions hat and had braces and was unbearably polite. His voice cracked a lot, too, which was in keeping with his looks, since at 16, he somehow seemed more like 13 or 14. I went over and bent down to look through the passenger's side window. "Hi, Terry!" He was staring for a moment, then said, "Oh, Marie! I almost didn't recognize you." Then I realized that he'd been staring down the front of the dress when I bent over. "I'm uh, going out to Bargain City. Can I drop you somewhere?" "Navarre Park?" "Sure!" It was a really sunny day and what I was wearing turned transparent for a moment when I was standing on the sunny side of the car. It was a manual shift and he handled it well. He was more lean than skinny, I realized as I watched the way the muscles on his arm corded when he rather easily shifted the notoriously cranky Ford transmission. "Uh, nice dress," he said. Terry was not known for reticence and it was unlike him to seem tongue-tied. I wondered and sneaked a glance. Little Terry had a not-so-little hard-on showing through his jeans. "Thanks. What do you like best about it?" He chewed his lower lip for a moment and then blurted, "What I saw inside it oh-jeez-I-can't-believe-I-said-that." I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. He started to blush and I felt bad for laughing. "Oh, Terry, you can be so sweet sometimes." I pushed my hat back, then scooched over and kissed him on the cheek, pressing my boobs into his arm. The blush faded, but the hard-on visibly throbbed. I stayed that way next to him, enjoying the effect I was having on him. I also liked the way he smelled -- a little sweaty, but somehow fresh and clean and sweet. My nipples were tightening when we stopped for a light near the edge of the park and another car pulled alongside. The horn beeped. "Hey, Terry -- hi, Marie!" It was a couple of the guys from the basketball team. "So, Terry, finally got a girlfriend?" They all laughed and his Terry's returned. And all at once I realized that Terry had probably been the opposite of me: a late bloomer and innocent. And that had certainly gotten him a good deal of teasing. Yet he'd stayed loyal to the oafs who'd teased him and treated him like a pet. So I decided to strike a blow for the little guy, so to speak. "I hope so," I said and caressed his face, then ran my hand down over his chest and lower, out of sight from them. "Trust me," I whispered. I put my hand on his thigh, but from their vantage -- Right. They went silent for a moment. I knew the way they saw me: a sex-bomb flower child. And the runt had gotten me, when none of them ever would. Eat your hearts out, fellas. "The light's green," I whispered. "So are they," he answered without moving his lips. I grinned and kissed his neck, just behind the jawbone. He tasted of Clearasil. "Be seein' ya, guys," he said and sedately shifted and pulled away. The road through the park was pretty empty. "Thanks," he said quietly. I was impressed that he knew what I'd been doing. I hadn't thought of Terry as a very perceptive guy. Or sexy. But I was cuddling against him and enjoying it and he'd been perceptive, so I was changing some attitudes on the fly, so to speak. "Uh, where do you want me to drop you?" I glanced down at the furiously throbbing bar within his jeans and simply could not resist. "I was going over by the pond, for a poetry reading, but I could be talked out of it." He swallowed, twice, before croaking. "Uh, how?" "By an invitation to spend some time alone with you somewhere. It wasn't all for show, you know." "Oh, sure, you've been fantasizing about me in the shower, huh?" "Never." I sniffed his neck. "But -- I don't know, Terry. Right now, something about watching you driving, feeling you all lean and hard next to me, the way you smell -- I don't know. But I'd like us to be alone someplace." He took a deep breath. "I want to ... do things with you. Every guy in school does." He swallowed again. "My house should be empty." "Should be?" "Dad's working -- " His father owned a Texaco station. " -- and Mom is out in Clay Center, visiting, and my brothers are out on the boat, fishing. That's where they said they'd be." We reached the other side of the park. He stopped at the light and looked me right in the eye. "If you'd still like to ..." He let it trail off. "It's no problem to drop you at the poetry reading." I slid my hand from his thigh to his bulge and squeezed. His eyes closed and he exhaled softly. His cock was bigger than I'd have expected on such a little guy, and it was hard as a piece of steel. I leaned up and kissed the point of his chin -- no Clearasil there, thank heavens -- and said, "Will you show me your room?" "If you insist." I liked that. We drove in silence for a few minutes, taking the service road paralleling Route 280, then switched off onto old State Route 2. We were out in Curtice, now -- farm country. It was pretty and smelled clean. For some reason, I was very sensitive to odors that day. Lucky for me. For about three miles, we didn't say a word, but I finally had to ask: "You've never made it with a girl, have you?" He puffed up and started to try bullshitting me, but then he kind of half-grinned and said, "No. Never even got close." He laughed sharply, briefly, almost snorting. "Never even copped a feel." Terry downshifted and pulled off into a side road through some evergreens, then turned into an almost-hidden driveway. Abruptly, we were in front of a large garage. An old split-level ranch was connected to it by a shingle-roofed walkway. When he turned off the engine, I raised his right hand to my lips and kissed the palm for a moment, then brought his hand down to rest on my left breast. He sighed as if he'd been holding his breath. "Now you have," I said, and pressed his hand into my breast. "I always imagined they'd be softer, not nearly so firm," he said. "It feels -- like coming back to a home I've never been to." He blurted it out. And that did it for me. I ran my arm around the back of his neck and pulled myself up to kiss him on the lips, hard. I wanted him so badly that I ached -- literally. It was a long time before he calmed the frantic spearing of his tongue into my mouth and learned to be less demanding and urgent, and then the kiss became sweet, as well as passionate. His hand slid off my tit and around my back and he held me close and then, suddenly, kissed my ear. I ran my hand down over his chest and then to his crotch. After about a minute of clutching, he said, "Want to go see my room?" We both laughed -- but breathily. I could only nod. He got out and came around to my side of the car and held the door for me. Polite, like I said. I took his hand and he led me into the house. I remember absolutely nothing about the furnishings; all I remember was watching his cute buns through his jeans as he led me down a hall to a closed door with a PRIVATE sign on it and ushered me inside...after opening the padlock and removing it from the hasp. The boy took privacy seriously. Terry's room matched his personality perfectly. He was nuts for sports and his room showed it. Hockey sticks and gloves over a dresser neatly framed the various certificates he'd earned as assistant manager and sometimes mascot for the various school teams -- and the stick and glove, like baseball mitt and football on a nearby shelf -- showed signs of hard use. The wallpaper was interrupted by posters of Al Kaline and Henry Aaron and Joe Namath and Gordie Howe and Wilt Chamberlin and the like. There were sports magazines neatly stacked on a night table and a couple of shelves of paperbacks mounted on the wall between the two windows. There was a little study desk with a Tensor lamp and on the desk, face down to hold a place, was a paperback. I looked at the title: "Dune." He tried to apologize, as if afraid I wouldn't think reading fantasy or science fiction was sufficiently macho. When I told him I'd read it and really liked -- [You did? How often? [I've read it six or seven times. Something about it is very calming to me. Okay?] -- and really liked it, something in his face changed. The eagerness was still there, but I think he was starting to see me as a person, too, and not just this sex-bomb who was apparently going to let him Do It With Her. He started jabbering about the book, and what he thought was going on. He was pacing and moving around a lot and I knew it was just nerves, so I decided to remind him of why I was there. I stepped into his path, leaving my sandals behind, threw my hat on the floor and grabbed him around the waist. "Terrence Molinari, if you don't stop talking and start kissing, I'm going to -- to -- hold my breath and turn blue!" He stared at me for a moment. I took his hand and put them on my shoulders and stretched up on tiptoes to kiss his lips lightly. "You like?" He nodded. "You try it." He did -- a brief, lovely kiss. "Longer." He nodded and this time, as he kissed me, his hands slid back over my shoulders and I grabbed him around the waist again. I could feel that iron-hard bar of his young cock throbbing against me. I pressed closer and the kiss got deeper. Tongues got into the action and I felt my juices running hot and thick. Within a few minutes, we were running our hands all over each other and I had his leg trapped between my thighs. I was rubbing my cunny up and down on his hard muscles. I broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "Can you get my buttons?" He blinked his eyes open at me. "Huh?" "On the back of my dress. There're six buttons. Can you open them?" He fumbled and as he did, I kissed his throat and what I could reach of his chest, breathing deeply to savor his scent. Eventually, he managed all six buttons, and also took time to kiss my ear and just under it and give me a little lick on the side of my neck and the top of my shoulder. There was something just slightly clumsy about it that convinced me it was impulse and not artifice and that made it all the more exciting. "Now put you hands on my shoulders," I whispered and then: "Now push the dress down over my arms." He did it. The low cut of the loose dress, now even looser did the rest, with the help of Gravity. The dress began to settle and I put my arms at my sides and it slide right off me and lay in a soft circle around my feet. His hands had stopped at my elbows, and now he held my arms lightly. He was staring down at my tits. His mouth was open slightly and his breathing was short and soft and shallow. His lips had dried. I felt my crinkly-hard nipples tighten even more and I could smell my own sex juices. "Put your hands on them," I said quietly. He complied with trembling fingers, just letting his fingertips rest on them. After a few seconds, he began moving his palms over them, learning their curves and contours. Finally, he pressed them slightly, then cupped them and lifted just a bit. It was incredibly sensual. I felt a heat in my belly and moisture on the insides of my thighs. "What did you imagine it would be like?" I coaxed. "What did you imagine doing with a girl the last time you jerked off?" Before he could answer, I said, "That's what I want you to do -- indulge yourself." He shook his head sharply, still caressing my boobs. "I d-don't know what would hurt you and what might feel good -- " "Don't worry; I'll tell you if something is uncomfortable. Why don't you start like this -- " I took his hand and led his fingers to my nipple. I pushed his fingertips closed around the spiky nozzle and compressed them just a bit. He didn't need much coaching after that. He grasped the other nipple and began gingerly pinching and pulling and gently turning them. Each touch and movement sent a lurching spasm through my belly and straight to my cunt. My eyes half-closed and my knees started trembling. When he bent and started sucking one nipple, I came. I'd never gotten off just like that before, so it caught me by surprise. He bent, fastened his lips, sucked -- too hard, actually -- and ran his tongue over the tip of my nipple and bam! just like that, I came! I shook slightly and my knees buckled. Terry got scared by that and immediately stopped and caught me in his arms. "The bed," I told him, regaining my stance. I stepped out of the circle of my discarded dress and stepped back twice. The edge of his bed hit the back of my legs and I started to sit, then caught myself. I was so wet, my cunt juice would have saturated his bedspread, which had a baseball-motif, drawings of Major Leaguers in various action scenes. I'd almost decorated a sliding Maury Wills. I told Terry to get a big, thick towel. He looked confused for a moment, but I just stared at him until he disappeared through a side door. He returned a moment later with a big beach towel. I spread it on the bed and sat, facing him. "C'mere." I held my arms out to him. There was a little dark stain at the end of the lump that was madly throbbing in his crotch. I reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, pausing to kiss his chest and then his abdomen as more and more flesh was exposed. I pushed the shirt back and he got the idea, shrugging out of it as I unfastened his belt and the waist of his jeans. "Out of those sneakers." He worked them off without using his hands or untying them. I leaned forward again, inhaling deeply of his scent and feeling the juice just running out of my tight, swollen cunt. I unsnapped his waistband and then pulled the zipper down. I squeezed his cock through the jeans and briefs and was surprised: It seemed even bigger and harder. I worked his jeans down over his knees, to his ankles and the movement caused the head of his cock to pop out of the leg opening of his Jockeys. It really was fat, his dick, and seemed to swell by the moment -- not longer, but thicker. I told him to stand at the foot of the bed. As he did it, I turned and stretched out, with my hands over my head, pushing at the head board, and my legs crossed at the knees. "Now take those briefs off for me," I said, surprising myself with the rasp in my voice. "And tell me what you want to do with me in your bed, Terry." He started working the white cotton off his skinny hips. "I want to suck your nipples some more and touch you all over and then I want to touch your -- between your legs." Then the briefs were down and his cock was standing straight out, throbbing upward in time with his heart bead and bobbing stiffly as he shifted from one foot to the other, stepping out of his underwear. His balls looked tight and firm and full. "Do it," I demanded. "Just what you said." He crawled over me and began madly kissing and licking all over my breasts, pausing only to take one nipple or the other between his lips and suck crazily, sometimes pulling his head up so he was tugging my whole tit by the nipple. His tongue never stopped batting at the nozzle and I had a couple of mini-orgasms. I took one of his hands in mine and led it down over my belly to my cunt and guided him in his first explorations. I taught his fingers to find my clit and once he found it, he was fascinated by the effect his combined tit-licking and clit- fingering had on me, which is to say, making me cum over and over. His finger found the opening and slid into my cunt and he gasped, "It's so wet and hot!" I felt his cockhead throbbing against my thigh. It was leaving little precum smears all over. I hatched a plan. "C'mere," I told him. I took his hips in my hands and urged him to crawl up over me while I wriggled down lower. His throbbing meat caught momentarily against the underside of my tit and then sprung free. My ankles were at the foot of the bed and he was again on all fours above me, but this time with his cock right at mouth level. I gripped his thick, hard young cock and pulled him down till the glans was in my mouth. It was a mouthful, too! I closed my lips on his shaft and put my hands on his hips as I began sucking. I didn't want him fucking that thick dick too deeply into my mouth. I needn't have worried, though. I'd known he was close to cumming; I just hadn't realized how close. As soon as my tongue moved against the little ridge on the underside of his glans, he groaned a warning that he was going to cum. And almost instantly did -- a long, thick powerful flood that would have overflowed a tablespoon and easily filled my mouth. I swallowed and sucked a little more and he did it again, moaning. I kept swallowing and sucking as he shot five more of those geysers before they lessened in quantity and force, and I kept sucking, milking him of the last drops stored in those firm, virgin nuts. I moved my mouth up and down a few times on his slightly shrinking shaft and he sighed piteously as I licked and sucked him dry. His cum tasted thick and strong and somehow very clean. I drank him dry and wished for more. My hands were still on his hips, so I urged him to roll to the bed beside me. He leaned over to kiss me, hesitated, and then went ahead and kissed me anyhow, right on my spermy, slippery mouth. I don't think he cared for the taste, because he didn't try to tongue me, but he went on kissing me till I broke it off. I smiled at him. "Oh, Marie, that was like nothing I ever imagined! I mean, I tried to imagine what it would be like to be inside a woman when I was jerking off and I imagined what it would be like to put it inside you, where I had my finger. But I never dreamed anything could feel so good as -- " His eyes widened. "What's the matter?" "Nothing. I just -- " He closed his mouth and looked confused. I thought I had it figured out. "I sucked your cock, so that makes me a cocksucker, which is a bad thing, right?" He looked sheepish. "Sorta." "I liked sucking your prick. I wanted it. You liked me doing it and when I started, you wanted it. If that's bad, I don't give a damn. No one hurt, and two horny people made each other feel good." He nodded slowly. "I guess so." "Besides, I knew you were going to cum fast the first time and I wanted to have you cum in my mouth because I have another new idea for down there." I led his hand "down there" for illustration and put his finger in me. I brought his hand to my mouth and licked the finger. I tasted like what I was: a horny young woman who bathed before leaving the house douched regularly, which is to say, I tasted good. I smiled at him and the look on his face was first amazement and then wonder. I didn't have to do Part Two. He put his hand back between my legs, soaked his finger in my cunt and then licked it off himself. "What do you think?" "Different, a little sharp. Maybe I better try again." He did and this time he arched one eyebrow and affected a British accent. "An amusing little wine which shows great promise, Moneypenney." "Is it Bond -- James Bond?" He laughed. "I'm not Sean Connery." "And I'm not Ursula Andress." He ran his hand over me, cupping it over my breasts and splaying his fingers over my belly and then my thighs. "Ursula Andress would eat her heart out." "I'd rather have her eat me out," I blurted and his eyes widened. "You mean -- there?" he whispered. "I didn't know women did stuff like that." "Not all, but some. Some of us do. And like it a lot!" "But -- how?" "Want to learn? I was going to ask you anyhow..." He brought my hand to his cock, which had -- bless teenagers! -- resumed its previous, formidable state. "I don't want to seem like a stiff, but -- " "Believe me, I have plans for that. But first -- ?" "You'd really like that?" "Believe me, Terry, what I'm going to teach you is going to make a lot of women very happy -- and make you very, very popular with them. Trust me?" He nodded. "Start by licking my tits again -- " I got no farther because he had the idea. A quick study, my young Terry was. And he not only mouthed my quivering boobs, he couldn't stop running his hand over me, enjoying the feel of my smooth, barely teenage body under its light, slippery sheen of perspiration. I came a couple of more times, little orgasms, before his lips worked their way down over my belly and abdomen. He diverted to my thighs, probably stalling before the Big Moment, but I didn't mind. His tongue was wonderfully energetic and wet and never tired of thrilling my flesh. But finally he was kneeling with his legs to one side of me and I pulled my knees up and apart as he started kissing his way down into the vee offered to him. His breath was like fire on my exposed cunt lips and throbbing clit. And then he stopped. "You'll have to help me find the right spots." "I will, but you're doing fine in the search," I said throatily. And indeed he was. His tongue went into the hollows between my thighs and my swollen cunt lips. When he shifted from one side to the other, his breath and sometimes the tip of his tongue just... barely... grazed my labia and that tantalizing touch made me groan and buck. And the juices just flooded out of me. I was so close to having a really big cum, I thought I was going to shatter with the tension. I was almost writhing -- almost, because I was trying not to twitch away from his tongue! He slid his hands under my butt and held me tightly, and then lifted my ass and pulled my cunt up to his waiting lips. He kissed my cunt and then stuck his tongue inside, licking as much as he could. It felt great, but it wasn't quite the thing I needed for the big blast. I finally took my hands away from my tits, where my fingers had been pulling and playing with my nipples, and grabbed the back of his head. "Higher!" I growled, guiding him up toward the top of my cunt. "Lick there -- ahhh!" As soon as his tongue hit my clit, he knew that was the target. He even closed his lips around it and sucked on it as he lapped at it. I sucked in a long breath, noisily, and then I clamped my thighs on his ears and arched and came, screaming. I came in one long, continuous orgasm. I had never cum like that -- not when I was being double-fucked at the party-cum-orgy on Kelly's Island, not even with my sister or even with that bitch Susan, who was the best cunt-lapper I knew. Maybe it was anticipation or the unplanned teasing or -- I still don't know. All I know is that with Terry, I thought I was going to die from the pleasure and intensity of my orgasm. When I finally fell back and pulled his face away from my over- sensitized clit, I continued to shudder with pleasure. I pulled him up to me and grabbed him and kissed him. Again, he hesitated for a split- second before kissing fully, and he hesitated before opening his lips to my tongue -- and then he plunged in and we kissed frantically, passionately, tasting myself and his cum on my tongue and him tasting himself and my juices on his. And more -- I felt what was nearly pain inside me. I wanted his hard young cock in my cunt, wanted it desperately. I rolled him on top of me, savoring his lean, young weight and the promise of his prick pulsing against the insides of my widespread thighs. "I want you inside me!" I reached between us and gripped his rigid stave. It felt so hot! I guide him up over me and -- I don't know why; I'd never done this instinctively before -- I raised my legs high and wide as I guided him to the opening. As soon as his knob was in my labia, he pushed down and in, one long stroke that hid his cock inside me completely. I groaned loudly and he murmured incoherently as he pressed, as if to get in still deeper. His cock was a perfect fit: stretching my cunt wide, just barely reaching the end of my canal. His pubic hair ground into my barely furred pubis and the bony ring at the base of his cock ground against my clit. I wrapped my arms around his back and clawed at him as he began humping me -- because that's what he did: hump me. He just banged away in these short, desperate thrusts that were driving me farther and farther up the bed, till we were both struggling with the logistics of the headboard while frantically staying linked. I knew he wasn't going to last long, sucked off or not, but it seemed to go on for a long time -- and then he got ready to cum. I can still remember feeling his balls lurch against my butt and his cock swelling inside me, literally swelling, and then he jammed himself so hard into me and against me that it almost hurt and then he was cumming in me. I could feel the lurch-lurch-lurch as the stuff shot through his cock, and then, eventually, as he kept cumming in me, I felt the heat of his juice beginning to suffuse my cunt. And he kept cumming, more and longer than I'd dreamed possible. His lovely young balls kept manufacturing loads of hot cum to flood me and even when it was filling my cunt and draining back out, he kept cumming. Just the idea of it was making me cum, so my cunt kept contracting around him and making his flow hesitate and that made him half-sob with pleasure and cum some more. Finally, even he had to stop cumming. His cock stayed half-hard inside me and he started to collapse on top of me. I tried to keep us connected as I rolled him to the side, but it didn't work and his prick slid out of me. Followed immediately by enough sperm to father several counties, if not countries. I was just starting to get enough pubic hair for it to be visible; now it was matted. His cum and my juices made my thighs glisten. I got up on my knees with my legs spread and put my hands between my thighs and started scooping and rubbing the runoff over my belly. It made me feel so wonderfully depraved and slippery! He reached over and his hand joined mine, only his roamed higher, slicking my tits, too. My nipples were very, very hard and he tried to pinch them, but his fingertips slid off and that felt good, too. About five minutes of that and I was ready to cum again and he had the equipment to handle the job, too -- his cock was fully hardened again. I climbed over him and lowered my cunt onto his dick. I settled down easily, right to the hair and sat back till my arms were on his thighs, behind me, and then I started moving my hips up and down, slowly, savoring the feeling from that angle and the different way it rubbed inside me. It was too bad we couldn't keep doing it that way, but my arms were getting tired and when I came down, sometimes my butt was mashing on his balls. The last thing I wanted to do was mash those lovely balls! I pulled off him and we both groaned involuntarily. "I've got this great idea," I told him. "Stand beside the bed." He was young, fit and limber -- but at the moment, his movements were jerky and almost uncoordinated. But he did what I wanted as I took his pillow and doubled it over and slid it under the beach towel. Then I lay with my hips on the pillow and my tits squashed into the bed and my feet dangling over the edge of the bed. "Now step up and put it in," I said softly. "In your -- your butt?" He sounded shocked. I was shocked. "No! Where did you ever get that idea?" His rigid prick was at exactly the right height. He nuzzled the knob against my cunny and pushed down and in. Somehow, it felt tighter inside me and that made it feel all that much better. "My brothers say that's the best, tightest thing in the world, that it makes girls scream with pleasure -- but you feel so good in the right place!" His hips had begun moving even as he spoke and his hard abdomen was pounding faster and faster against my upturned butt. His cock seemed to be going even farther inside me, now, and I felt a strong cum building. Every time he pushed into me, his balls swung forward to brush my clit and that felt wonderful and gave me an idea. "Hold still," I said. I managed to work my hand under me and back to my cunt and got my fingertips over my clit. Then I closed my legs and said, "Fuck hell out of me, baby!" "Damn, it feels so gooood!" he moaned and then started pounding away, long, hard strokes that plunged his fat glans far inside me. I was rubbing and twiddling and started cumming like gangbusters. My vaginal muscles were spasming almost constantly on him. "Feels so damn good!" he wailed, his strokes getting shorter and faster. I felt his balls against the backs of my fingers and they were hard and full. His cock was swelling inside me and I was cumming and cumming and screaming into the bed when he finally jammed himself all the way into me and held fast, pouring his hot, copious teenage cum into my clutching little cunt. He really let it go this time, amazing me with his prolific load. I mean, it was his third time in about an hour, and it seemed like there was more than first two times. The load finally stopped -- the hose ran dry, so to speak -- and his knees buckled. He was panting on the floor behind me and then he kissed my butt -- two sweet little kisses, one to each cheek -- and then he pushed his face between my legs and began licking my overflowing pussy and my fingers. It felt really good, but the sheer sweetness of the impulse just plain melted me. "How much longer are we alone here?" I felt him turning his face toward the nightstand, with the clock. "About two hours." "Get up here and hold me in your arms for a while and let's see what happens." He rolled me onto my back and turned me on the bed. I was as limp as wet dough and let him move me around. Then he fell on the bed beside me, catching his breath and pulled me into his arms. I guess the fun had taken a toll on both of us, because he jerked awake, startling me out of a light doze. "Jeez, I thought for a minute there -- what time is it?" He looked. "Marie, we gotta get moving! My brothers will be back soon!" Suddenly, we were scrambling. I jammed toilet tissue into the crotch of my panties to absorb more of the continuing runoff. We dressed faster than I would have believed possible and were back out on Route Two, westbound, in less than ten minutes. "Whooo-eee!" Terry said, looking up in his rearview. "They just turned into the drive!" Then he laughed. "Well, if they'd caught us they would have stopped teasing me about not having done it yet!" I made him promise me that he wouldn't tell them he'd made it with me. He could tell them we were going out, he could tell them he'd made it with someone else. But I did not want a pair of older guys -- who advised their kid brother that fucking a girl's ass was the best because it made her scream -- knowing I was willing. No way. I didn't explain that to him, of course, but I made him promise. And we decided to take in a movie at the Woodville Drive-In the following Friday. Wouldn't that be nice? Making out in a car after making passionate love in a bed. Yecchh. But I liked Terry and I did want to see him and the movie looked promising, whatever it was. When I got home, Mom and St. Alexis were out and Dad had already left for his shift. Jeanne was in our room, just sitting in the corner on her bed, looking through the Sears Big Book. She didn't even look up when I came in. I knew the signs. I washed my face and hands and went to her and pulled her head against my breasts and held her while she cried. After she calmed down and relaxed a little, I took a shower and got out my secret kit to douche and then we played a couple of games of Michigan rummy until she seemed more relaxed. This was not, I decided, the right time to tell he of my adventure with Terry. The next couple of days were pretty ordinary. Terry called daily and we chatted about books, of all things, and on Thursday he told me we had a choice of plans for Friday night. We could go to the movie or, if I wanted, we could go to a birthday party for one his friends. "You don't want to miss your friend's party," I said. "That would be fun!" I was thinking what fun it would be to attend a party in someone's basement, surrounded by 16-year-olds swilling beer they weren't used to drinking. On the other hand, I knew it would be important to Terry to let his friends see him with a date who didn't look like a poodle, and it would be educational to see Terry socializing with his peers. "Are you sure? I mean, most of the folks there are going to be sort of jock-types, straight, and I know most of your friends are more freak- types, into reading and stuff." "Yes, you're right. Most of my friends read books like `Dune' or call me up and talk to me about Kurt Vonnegut novels. Not like your crowd at all." He laughed. "Okay, okay. We'll leave before it gets totally strange." He assured me it was strictly casual-slob attire and we agreed on a time. I decided to make sure his friends knew that Terry's date was decidedly of the female persuasion. When he showed up at the driveway, I went out to the car wearing a white dress shirt tailored for an adult man and a pair of new jeans that hadn't been washed and shrunk to politically correct fit or hue. I was carrying a beach bag. He looked at me kind of oddly, but made no faces or negative comments. "By the way, where are we going?" "Oh, Bob lives out near Casper's Corners, but we're having the party at his friend's house on Woodville Road. The parents are away for a few days." "Convenient." "Yeah. I used to have a thing for the guy's sister -- she's really gorgeous -- but I found out she's also a real slut and maybe a little crazy." "Mmmm." I was half-listening. We were just turning onto Woodville Road and I was looking for a good place -- "Hey, can you pull into the shopping center for a minute?" "Sure." He signaled and turned into the big parking lot. "Where?" "Over by the furniture store." "But it's closed." "That's the idea." He complied. When he turned off the engine, I kicked off my shoes and slithered out of my jeans. Underneath I was wearing a micro-skirt. Then I reached inside my shirt and unsnapped the ludicrous bra and shrugged and wriggled till I had worked one arm out of it. A few seconds later, the bra was history. Then I rolled up the sleeves of the shirt to my elbows, tied the tails high around my midriff, leaving my belly bare, and unbuttoned the top five buttons on the shirt. He stared at me for a moment. "The hell with the party. I'll be spending the evening fighting guys off." "That's the idea. Let them drool and envy you." "I don't want envy; I want you!" "Really?" I batted my eyelashes at him and caressed the steel bar in his jeans. "Marieeeee..." "Later -- I promise. But let's go to the party for a little while, first, okay?" He growled not very convincingly, which got us both laughing and trying to come up with ever-more-outrageous predictions of the madness I would inspire. I still wasn't paying much attention to where we were going. When he pulled into the driveway of my cousins' house I asked why we were stopping there. "This is where the party is. Tod's folks are away for a few days and is something wrong?" "You had a crush on Darlene?" "Yes -- hey, do you know her?" "She's my cousin." "No shit?" He was genuinely amazed. "No shit." I looked at the house next door. It was dark and the driveway was empty. Tod's was not. Four cars were already parked there and two more were parked along the berm in front of the house. We got out of the car and I asked him if he was friends with Tod. "Not really. I try to stay away from him for the most part. He's always starting up with people and he's not real bright." "Promise me right now, Terrence Molinari -- if I tell you to get me out of there, you'll do it." "Well, sure, but what -- " "Let's just say that I do not want Tod or anyone like him being too close to me." "Are you sure you're only thirteen? You're awfully smart. y'know." When we opened the front door, we understood why no one had answered the bell; they couldn't hear it. We were greeted by a wall of noise, cigarette smoke (some of it almost certainly tobacco) and beer aroma. Yes, it was going to be quite some party. Somehow, the four cars accounted for about 16 teenaged partyers. The decor -- Hefner as interpreted by Carlo Ponti -- was exactly right for this get-together, as it was rapidly deteriorating into a modern version of the Roman orgy. Within five minutes of our arrival, the resemblance to ancient Rome cranked up a notch: One of the guys who'd been guzzling Black Label on the couch suddenly lurched past us, desperately heading for the toilet where he could offer prayers to Ralph. [C'mon. You know -- you kneel in front of the commode and fervently groan, "Raaaaallllph!"] The birthday boy was in Darlene's bedroom, we learned. Getting his birthday present. "Wish it was your birthday?" I whispered to Terry, elbowing him in the side. Before he could answer, someone bellowed, "Whoaaaa -- Marie is here! Looking good! Man, I'd know that cute ass anywhere!" And I'd know that asinine braying anywhere: Tod. Terry and I turned slowly. Tod, true to porcine form, was standing there with one arm around a girl trying her best to look like the bimbo she was born to be. His hand was hanging down over her absurdly filled halter. His other hand was wrapped around a quart bottle of Ballantine ale. The bottle was two-thirds empty; Tod was two-thirds full. "Hey, Terry, been getting some from little ol' Marie?" Terry started to lean forward, but I turned and slung a restraining arm around his waist, crushing myself into his side. I looked back at Tod. "What do you think?" I asked, and ran my hand down Terry's leg about halfway to his knee, then squeezed the inside of his trouser leg as if enjoying something there. "Best of all," I purred, "he's got a brain and a sense of honor. Have you heard of those?" All the conviviality faded from Tom's piggish face and he looked like he was considering something other than a friendly reply. But then the birthday boy made an appearance -- conspicuously tucking his shirt in, once he was sure he'd been noticed by enough people -- and that took the edge off the moment. I led Terry away, toward the kitchen, while the bimbette whispered something to Tod -- probably that there was a bedroom available; she looked like the type who'd crave someone like Tod. A couple of the other guys came up to say Hi to Terry and someone put a beer in his hand. He drank it absently. The music changed to something more dance-able -- it might have been the Rascals or Joplin -- and Terry and I danced. I took a break and had a beer and then danced with someone else while Terry talked sports, then he danced with me again. We both had another beer and we danced with each other and various people. Tod still hadn't reappeared. And suddenly, it was almost eleven and Terry was weaving just ever so slightly and I was feeling only a bit of pain myself. Someone shushed the rest of us and beckoned and we followed him down the hallway... ...to Darlene's bedroom, it turned out, where she was riding her brother. I'd been told no tall tales. Tod was hung like the proverbial horse. And Darlene -- quite obviously stoned on beer and sex and who knew what else -- was digging every abundant square inch of her brother's oversized dick. The bed was a mess and the insides of her thighs, when visible, were well-painted with a copious overflow of many loads of semen. Even so, she was gloriously sexy. All that long blonde hair, curly and jostling with her eager riding, hung down her slim back to her tiny waist and slim hips and taut little ass. Her legs were as long and curvy as they could be and when she sat up straight, I could see her tits had grown to be really lovely half-melons, barely jiggling in their stiff- nippled glory despite her violent humping. I say "when visible" because her thighs weren't visible for long. Maybe a dozen of us watched this wild, drunken incest for a full three minutes before one of the guys groaned, shucked his shorts and climbed over them -- and immediately began working his dick up her ass. Darlene screamed when he put it in and screwed again when he sank down on her and screamed with each thrust. But her screams subsided into whimpering sobs and moans and then she got into it and kept groaning, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Both males complied. I expected the guy in her ass to cum first, but Tod couldn't hang on. He lurched upward and groaned. He had small balls, I noticed, and didn't cum for very long. Darlene bucked all the harder against the guy in her ass and expelled Tod's dick. Even limp, it was impressive. I wondered at how she could have withstood it when she was only 10 or 11. If it had been attached to anyone else, I might have been turned on by the sight of it. As it was, I was repulsed. The guy in her ass rolled onto his back, his cock still secured inside her anus. He locked his hands over her marvelous tits and pulled her back against him. She splayed her legs wide and demanded that someone else fuck her. One of the guys finally complied, pushing his cock up her slimy slit. "Want to go?" I asked Terry quietly. "Or do you want a turn at her?" His eyes said he was drunk, but his voice was sure: "Uh-uh. She's a slut. Doesn't care. I want someone who cares." He hugged my waist to him. "Let's get out of this place." But walking the corridor from the scene of the scene, I knew Terry had drunk too much beer to drive. And he began to suspect it when he caromed off a door jamb. "Can you drive?" he asked me. "You've got to be kidding." He puffed out his breath. "Shit. We can do one of three things. Hang around here till I sober up. Hang around here and get totally wrecked. Or call one of my brothers to come get us." "What about the car?" It took him a moment to figure out what I was talking about. He shrugged. "We'll lock it up. I've seen head-ons on Woodville Road; I'd rather chance someone stealing the car." I squeezed him to me. "Call 'em." He nodded over-enthusiastically and almost did a one-and-a-half gainer into the red shag rug. "Good ideeee-a." Totally wrecked. But we found the phone and I dialed for him -- his coordination was shot -- and after thirty seconds of slurred conversation, he hung up and grinned. "The calvary is on the way." [What? "Cavalry? So what? You knew what I meant! Besides, John Wayne always said it that way, and who are you to argue with the Duke -- pilgrim?] A couple of the guys left, accompanied by Tod's bimbette. She'd been completely grossed out seeing him fuck his sister while another guy fucked his sister's ass. She was also about three sheets to the wind. I had the distinct feeling that the three guys with her were going to enjoy the way she got even with Tod. We went out and sat against the hood of the 'Stang for a little while. Terry didn't say much beyond an occasional apology and expression of surprise at having gotten so thoroughly drunk so easily. The night was clear and there weren't more than zillion or so stars and I found myself thinking of the way my phantom step-brother could point out stars and constellations as if they were old friends or streets that he knew well and, for the first time, I was asking myself what Dan would think of the guy I'd chosen to be with. In this case, I figured he'd like him and that meant a lot to me, for no good reason whatever. His brothers rolled up in a VW Microbus -- a van, for those who don't remember -- and Terry introduced me to Gary and Gerry. Not only were they twins, they were identical and about 19 or 20 years old. There was some resemblance to Terry, but it was mostly in the face, and even there it wasn't a lot. They were dark-complected, and they were big, strong guys. We got the back door open and Terry sprawled inside. I think he was unconscious before he hit the completely surprising blue shag rug. Yes, friends, Gary and Gerry had turned the back of the VW Microbus into a bachelor pad. Oh, joy. Gary was driving and Gerry turned in the passenger-side seat to give me a good eyeing. "Marie -- yeah, I heard about you. Jeez, I thought they were making up stories." "Who are `they'?" I asked, looking him over. The resemblance was strong and I thought that if Terry grew up to look like his brothers, I'd be one happy girl. They were cute! "And what were the stories?" Both laughed quietly -- chuckled, I guess -- and Gerry said, "Ahhh, you know how it is. Guys talk about girls and when you see a really pretty or sexy girl, you tell someone and word gets around. Usually it's pretty far off the mark, y'know? Exaggeration and all." "Except they weren't exaggerating by much about you," Gary added. "So how were they wrong?" Gerry shrugged. "They had your figure wrong, a little. They said you were bigger through the, uh, top, y'know?" "Well, for your size, they are pretty big," Gary said. "What do you measure, anyhow?" "Don't you think that's getting a little personal?" "Hey, it's all in the family," Gerry said, grinning and winking. "Meaning?" "Listen, we're just curious about what our little brother's been getting himself into," he said, adding, "Oooof! What the hell was that for?" The "that" was his brother's elbow in his ribs. And Gerry realized its meaning immediately. "Oh, shit!" So Terry had told them what and with who. Great. At least no one had suggested I get butt-fucked so I could scream. But there was no pretending I wasn't hurt by Terry's betrayal and disappointed in his revelation. And I was mad as hell at him for it. Plus, I was terribly horny and had been looking forward to being with Terry later -- except that "later" found Terry passed out. Add to all of that the fact that I'd had a couple of beers and they were making me feel a bit wild... "Can we pull over here for a minute?" I pointed left. We were approaching the Great Eastern shopping center. The miniature golf course was brightly lit and there was a big tractor-trailer rig unloading in front of the Kroger's, but otherwise, it was dark. "Yeah, no problem," Gary said. He signaled and turned. He moved toward the miniature golf. "No -- over by the LaneVanRyser's residence." Jack's lips had enveloped a firm, reddened nipple. It was Bill. "I'm in a bind, Ellen. I need some records from a downtown law office, and the lawyers don't have a messenger. No one else is here. I was wondering if you could do it for me?" My voice quaking, I responded, "Just tell me where and how." I started to say playfully that he could sure pick some great times to call me, but I didn't want Bill to think I was complaining about the favor he was requesting. Anyway I doubted that Jack would have believed me, had I told him I had my husband's approval. Hanging up, I suggested to Jack, "Are you free tonight?" He was stunned, a bit nervous, so I lied, "Bill's leaving for Florida early this afternoon. I'm alone for the evening." He smiled. His wife was in Toronto for a club convention, he told me, adding, "What time?" When I arrived at the developer's office, I told Bill what had happened. Nodding his approval, he grinned, "I'll be home an hour before Jack arrives." At 7:30 that night, Bill was relaxing in a patio folding chair in the master bedroom's walk-in closet. I was sitting on the couch, attired in a white satin dress, slit to the thigh, pretending to read an Architect's Digest while I awaited Jack's arrival. I was too nervous to read. A feeling like fear grips my stomach when I feel aroused. My breath was huffing like a smokestack on a toy train. The doorbell clanged. A 15-mile-an-hour wind was blowing through the foyer as I held the door open for Jack. At 5'8", I was only 4 inches shorter than Jack, but the red western boots beneath his dress gray jeans added 2 inches to his tall figure. He stepped in from the darkness, kissing me as he pushed the door closed behind him. Handing me a bottle of champagne, he breathed, "You're beautiful." Smiling, I took his sheep-collared waist jacket, hung it in the entryway's closet, then turned on trembling knees to retrieve a couple of wine glasses. His blue western-style shirt was tailored like a glove. Handing him the frosted glass, I remarked, "You changed clothes." He nodded affirmatively. "Uh huh. Showered, shaved, et cetera. Had to do something to calm my nerves tonight." I'd clicked on the stereo and turned off all but the decorative red- bulbed dining room chandelier, bathing the room in a soft crimson glow. A slow melody was drifting from the room's four speakers. He beckoned me to dance. My legs were shaking, my breasts heaving in desire. My slender body seemed particularly small and vulnerable as I leaned my head against his chest. Jack's fingers stroked my shoulder length black hair, his lips tracing a senuous path down my neck as he fondled the soft fullness of my breasts. His manhood was growing in the tight slacks, throbbing against my groin and thigh, as his hips pressed mine. My tremoring body was now as pliant as putty, my heart pounding so hard I couldn't breathe. The song ended. I trembled as he swept me up to carry me down the long hallway to the master bedroom. Joyous tears pooled in my eyes. I'd forgotten Bill who was watching from the closet, only a dozen feet from the bed where I lay in the dimness. I moaned beneath the tall form standing above me. Jack removed my shoes, then my red satin belt, unwrapping the dress to find I wore nothing beneath. He was staring at my breasts, my stomach, my shaved mound, as he popped loose the snaps of his western shirt. His slacks slid down his hips. I gasped! His engorged manhood burst free, curving up more than a foot from a patch of thick dark hair. "Oh, my GOD!" I muttered, fearfully, my eyes wide. Although I was having second thoughts, I pulled his hips near. He knelt alongside the bed. My quivering lips parted. My mouth enwrapped his cock, gliding along the frightening length. My eyes rolled up to look at him. His eyes were glazed with lust as he disengaged and lay alongside me. I glanced to the closet door Bill had left ajar. Unable to see my husband, I knew he would now be feeling my own mad desire, pumping - as he always did while watching - his hardened cock in the closet's darkness. I closed my eyes, relishing Jack's gentle hands exploring the soft curves of my body. My nipples tingled as his lips closed around a hard, reddened spike. Impassioned fear churned within my stomach. I pursed my lips, hissing in desire, as his tongue twisted a winding path to my shaved mound. I thrust my hips to his face, grinding my cunt against his mouth, my heart pounding a wanton drumbeat as his tongue twirled over my clitoris. I wailed at the thrills rippling through me like an electric current coursing across a thunder-laden sky. Clasping my thighs around his ears, I dug my heels into his back as fiery explosions blossomed within my pussy. Tears of joy streaked along my cheeks like rivulets of rain on a jetliner's windows. I pulled him above me until his knees were straddling my breasts. He braced his arms against the headboard above me. My lips stretched widely as I took his rubbery monster in my mouth. My head bobbed as my tongue slurped along its length. Now, beyond lust, I was WORSHIPING this broad, purplish cock thrusting down the moistness of my throat. His instrument hammered into my mouth until my passion was unbearable. My voice muffled by his wide cock, I pleaded, "Mphhh! Please, Jack, I WANT you! I can't WAIT any longer!" My hips gyrated expectantly. My long legs now opened eagerly to accept his huge curving cock floating toward the lips of my vagina. I shivered. Realizing that his manhood was much longer and broader than any I'd ever encountered, I whimpered with fright as he pushed past my cuntal folds. He was splitting me apart! I screamed softly. Shocks rippled through my groin as he pressed on, my vaginal walls expanding incredibly for this giant tool. Yet I'd rather have died than have him stop now. Red coals of passion smoldered in my vagina. I loved every inch of this massive freight train slowly puffing into my smoking tunnel. Jack was clearly aware of the difficulty, although I was crying as much in pleasure as in pain. Finally, he was as far into my gushing depths as he could push. My pain disappeared, replaced by blinding rapture. He rode me with a fury, my cunt now burning in our forbidden fires. My legs enveloped his hardened torso, my shaved mound quivering up to match every steaming thrust. In the stunning thrills of fucking Jack, I'd forgotten Bill; but as I thrashed my head side to side, I glimpsed my husband's nude form step from the closet to watch Jack's magnificent weapon invading my quivering cunt. Logic and will abandoned me. I was far too lost in this hurricane of passion to acknowledge my husband by smiling at him as I normally would while he pumped his engorged cock. The emblazoned yolks of Jack's eyes rolled as he plunged into me. I opened my mouth widely as if this would somehow expand my cunt further to accept Jack's final inches. Bill jaw was sagging as he pumped his full length in a fury. Jack's body and mine pulsated with a radiance. Our explosion was imminent. Bill's intense stare told me that his mind and Jack's were now one. I cried out as Jack's flames united with mine into a blazing inferno. We shuddered with each thrust, our eyes glazing, craving the ultimate gratification - release from this overwhelming passion. I mewed, "Oh, FUCK me, Jack! FUCK ME-E-E-E-E!" Raging tides of passion coursed through my body. Delerious, I screamed,"Oh! God help me, Jack! I LOVE you, Jack! I LO-O-O-O-VE YOU!" I loved him, loved in adultery, uniting in flesh that which was already in our minds and souls. And then! OH GOD! It happened in a blinding flash! We were coming in thunderous waves. Our orgasms burst in a super-nova of pleasure, raging through my creaming cuntal walls. My mind was exploding with fiery fragments that spider-legged like a billion falling stars across the evening skies. Jack's lips grazed my breasts in the blissful after-glow of our adultery, our arms entertwined for an eternity of a half minute. As I fluttered to earth, I remembered Bill. I looked over Jack's shoulder. My husband had returned to the closet and closed the door. I smiled. Now, because of my unquenchable desire for the largest male member I'd ever known, my husband would have to remain there until morning. Jack would be mine for the night! Our journey into passion has just begun. Jack forced me to turn. My knees sunk into the red satin sheets like coconuts into quicksand, my hands braced against the wall above our headboard. His large hands grasped my hips. The yolks of my eyes rolled madly as his massive member was entering my vagina from the rear. I moaned. My husband was now in the closet, hearing all but unable to see us. I turned to look back, awed by Jack's huge cock. My pursed lips formed an "oh" as I watched the instrument pushing deeply into my excitedly-lubricated cunt. I spread my knees ever wider as the length and breadth filled me. Sobbing in desire, I reached to caress his member behind me, my hand tremoring. He slowly thrust into me until I was whimpering with pleasure, "I LOVE you, Jack! I LOVE YOU!" I sucked in my breath at the stunning sensations. I stared as he fucked into my depths, my lips parted in wonder. We shared a sigh. I couldn't tear my eyes from his cock, which was now bulging at its base, in an impending explosion, as he groaned, his hips rolling and shuddering. I gasped! Jack's firm manhood was expanding to an incredible size with the onrushing tidal wave of a massive orgasm. My clitoris fluttered unbearably as if to tell me we were to be coming together in a mind boggling finale! My back arched expectantly, my fingers digging into his hips behind me. I wailed, a long, modulated shreik of passion. And then, we were exploding in rapture! Crying with wild abandon, I tremored like a tree in an earthquake. His warm semen burst through my channel, the creamy fluid splattering my inner walls, washing over his cock, which was now erupting with a volcanic flow of steaming lava. I was sobbing, spinning, in a thrilling roller coaster ride down pleasure's glowing corridor. We fluttered back to earth, collapsing in gratification. His fingers stroked the small of my back as he whispered, "You're beautiful, you know." "Thank you," I responded softly, turning to him. "So are you." I stroked his cock, now soft and pliable, glistening beneath the moonlight that filtered through the transparent drapes. We showered in the orange glow of the bathroom's dim lighting. I was on my knees, pleasuring him with my lips until his magnificent manhood was curving up like a Turkish sceptre. Pulling me to my feet, he forced my back to the red-tiled wall, pushing my legs apart. I struggled half-heartedly, even now afraid of his length and breadth, as the water pounded my face. Turning my head away from the shower's storm as he entered me, I shut my eyes, whimpering. My hands pressed against the shower walls in helpless abandon. Steam was rolling around the warm air of the shower like ocean spray in a Florida hurricane. As I thrashed beneath him, I banged my head against the shower door, causing its glass to shudder. My cuntal muscles were in spasm from his godawful size! I loved him but feared him. "GOD!" I screamed as Jack's weapon slithered mercilessly through my depths, "Drive it INTO me, Jack! Your cock is KILLING me! FUCK me, Jack! Oh, GOD! You're splitting me APART!" I wrapped my legs around his hips, fucking back against him. He pressed my back to the floor as I cried out in passion. In the steam, his face was now unrecognizable, as if I were being fucked by an unknown lover in a warm fog. Our desire went into overdrive. I was a galactic surfer, riding the highest pleasure wave, washing across a cosmic sea to a splendored shore. Logic and will had now abandoned me amid a firestorm on a planet in a timeless universe. My clitoris shuddered. The planet's core was about to erupt. And then! The glowing stars exploded in supernova. I was slipping through a long, shuddering tunnel in pleasurable darkness as I came, then came again, and again, and OH GOD, AGAIN, my mind shattering into gratified fragments. Finally, at 4 a.m., I lay sleeping, a leg over his, an arm over his chest, until a movement stirred me. He slumbered. I stared down at his awesome cock. I worshiped it with my lips and tongue, then slept again, awakening with the morning sun rippling through the windows. Jack was gone. But Bill lay alongside me. Grinning. Jack visited three times a week until Bill's project was completed. I gave myself eagerly. Finally, two nights before we were to return to Florida, I told Jack about my husband's penchant for "watching." On our last night, the day before Thanksgiving, Jack, Bill, and I drank white wine as we watched a video in the family room. Jack sat alongside me on the floor, our backs against the couch, while Bill sat in a chair across the room. Jack pulled me to him. We removed the other's clothing. I straddled him, lowering my hips as his long cock submarined through my molten channel. Moaning, I was impaled on his staff. Electric thrills throbbed through my legs. Jack's smooth skin brushed the insides of my thighs as he fucked me. Bill hovered above me, his arms braced on the couch. I unzipped his fly, pulling out his manhood. My tremoring lips glistened along Bill's length as Jack thrust his splendid tool through my steaming walls. I was thankful as the two men fucked me. Thankful, because I love Bill. I also love adultery. Thankful, because I don't have to choose between the two. Thankful that my depths had never been so filled. THE END se -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |