Message-ID: <28998asstr$982858205@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: kellis X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Subject: {ASSM} The Innocent Fugitives Ch16 {Varkel} (MF m+g Mg oral anal ped size) Date: Thu, 22 Feb 2001 11:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, Vulpine The Innocent Fugitives a Novel by Varkel Copyright (C) 2001, Varkel Chapter 16: Basement Adventures Bobbie was always willing to pause for men and boys. School had concluded for the day, but she had an appointment with the science teacher to obtain a make-up study list for next week's test. On her way to that teacher's office she crossed an intersecting hall down which the corner of her keen eye spied boys. Six, seven of them, stood in a loose grouping at the far end of the other hall. They were older ones from the higher grades. Something about their stance was too casual, almost furtive. Reflexively she stepped back in concealment. The last students were just departing via the outside door behind her. The hall rang with multiple door slams and shouts of exuberant freedom. When the echoes died away, only the hiss and hum of hidden machinery remained. Carefully she peeked around the corner toward the group of boys -- just in time to see the last two or three pass through an open door, the farthest on that side, and close it silently behind them. Unconsciously she noted the lack of light on their faces, suggesting that this was neither a door to the outside nor even to a room with windows, and shook her head without understanding what troubled her. She had to see Ms. Bragg! She marched quickly along to that lady's office but, when a seat was pointed out, soon realized that she need not have hurried. Ms. Bragg was talking on a telephone, something about round lots with puts and takes, whatever that meant. Bobbie tapped her foot impatiently. The woman was giving someone detailed instructions that obviously contained nothing of interest to Bobbie, though her ears perked up at a few phrases, such as, "The ups and downs are coming too fast, I want to get out from under that one," and "Hold him up for another point. I don't feel like giving it away." After waiting a good ten minutes by the clock on the wall, the woman, still on the telephone, fished around on her desk and handed Bobbie a stapled sheaf of papers. "These are my notes on the Solar System, which is mainly what the test will cover. Take good care of them. I want them back." Bobbie understood this as permission to leave and whirled out of the room. She paused at her locker and left off the books from her last class, as well as the new study papers, before hurrying down the hall where she had seen the boys. At the door, almost uniquely unlabeled -- strange, she now realized, if the purpose was to avoid drawing attention -- she paused and looked back along her path. It was empty of people. She turned the brass knob. It was a heavy steel door but opened without complaining. Beyond were dim metal stairs, leading down into gloom, though not complete darkness. She slipped through the door, stepping down the first two treads, and closed it silently behind her. She listened and heard men talking. But were they men or the boys she had seen? They had looked big enough to have men's voices. A handrail was set into the brick wall. Holding it for balance, she tiptoed down the stairs and around the midpoint landing, carefully drawing near the dim doorway at the bottom. She peeked around the edge. A large box with firelight flickering beneath it squatted at one end of the windowless basement room: a furnace, of course, whose fire provided warmth and the only illumination. What interested her were the boys squatting in a rough circle on two air mattresses laid on the concrete floor. Except for shoes and socks they were stark naked. Clothing was draped over two sawhorses nearby with books stacked beneath them. Three of the boys sat with backs toward her, but of the four whose faces were visible, three leaned back against the wall with eyes drifted shut, each gripping his erect penis in one hand. The fourth one, closest to the fire, likewise secured his manhood while his other hand held an open book up to the light. He was reading it aloud with clarity and precision. "'... Is a real woman in minature. She has the shape, and a swell one, too, and she even uses her body the same way as a woman of twice -- that is, of normal -- size. "'She has wonderful tits. They're so small that when you put your hand over one of them it's hidden, but for her size they're regular showpieces. There's not a chance in the world of taking a fuck between them. Arthur's cock looks like a baseball bat when he tries it later. But it's an entirely new sensation to suck some bitch's boobs by putting the whole works in your mouth.'" One of the listeners exclaimed, "Wow, I bet!" Bobbie's eyes narrowed with a plan. She slipped out of her clothing, aside from shoes, leaving it folded neatly on the last stair step, as the reader continued, "'Arthur's found something to bitch about. He wishes he had his Kodak with him. He doesn't want to take dirty pictures, he tells Charlotte. All he wants is just one picture of her on the couch next to him, so you can see the cock he's got and what little she's got to take it with. Charlotte is peeved by that. What kind of a girl does he think she is, anyway? But that doesn't keep her from grabbing his dick as soon as he has his clothes off. Arthur and I lay side by side and Charlotte sits up between us, playing with both dicks. "'It's easy to get a finger into that split under her bush. Charlotte is as juicy as anyone else, and it's no trouble at all when you do it right. And she likes to play that finger game. She lies back and spreads her legs and tells us to go right ahead.'" Another listener declared sagely, "They all like that." Someone snickered. "What do you know about it?" "Here comes the good part," warned the reader. "'Arthur sits sniffing his finger. He looks at Charlotte's fig and then at me --'" "What's a fig?" someone demanded. "I think he means her cunt. 'What Arthur's thinking about is obvious, but he's being fastidious. Finally he has jacked up his nerve. He bends over and takes a good sniff of Charlotte. She closes her legs around his neck and rubs her figlet in his face. Arthur looks up at me and says I can go fuck myself if I don't like it. He runs his tongue into her and begins to suck. I lie beside Charlotte and play with her boobs. "'She's a baby doll that I could play with all day, but --'" Bobbie was able to approach the group closely because those who might see her were watching a different spectacle with the mind's eye. All seven jumped when she interrupted. "Why don't you guys play with a _real_ doll?" "Wh-wh-what?" erupted from several open mouths. To a man they leaned forward over themselves in pitiful concealment. Bobbie smiled serenely. "I mean, you're reading about two guys doing a midget, right? I'm almost one." She slipped easily onto the air mattress next to the reader and took his book from nerveless fingers. "Henry Miller," she read from the spine. "Sounds like a good book." She gave it back and spun around, grinning invitingly. "Who wants to be Arthur?" "But -- but -- you're just a kid!" declared one of the tallest, voice breaking, eyes wide, crouched on skinny haunches. "I know what that thing in your hand is for." She faced him, thrust her hips forward and spread her labia with both sets of fingers. "Do you know what this is for?" The lad blushed over almost his entire body, evident even in the dim firelight. The boy beside him licked his lips. "She wants it, Tim." Holding her gash open, Bobbie sank to her knees, then to her back in the center of their circle. "He's right, Tim. I want it." The skinny lad already possessed a man's hair at pubes, on chest and legs. With a hoarse cry, he rose up to collapse forward between her legs. He hesitated and looked up at Bobbie wonderingly. "What does Arthur do, just lick?" She chuckled. "Let me show you. Stick out your tongue." She rose up enough for her hands to clasp his temples. "Now lean down." She guided his whole head. "That's right. Just there, and all around it. Put some fingers in." She looked up to the boy on her right. "What's your name?" "Mikey." She raised up a little farther. "Kneel down at my shoulder, will you, Mikey? ... That's right. Slip your knee behind me so I can rest my head and I'll show you something you'll like." When the folded leg was in position, she turned and popped Mikey's ruby knob into her mouth. Mikey gasped. So did two or three watchers. "You lucky shit!" declared one of the boys on her left, staring in obvious envy. She released Mikey momentarily and grinned around at all of them. "Take it easy. We're all gonna have fun today, and I do mean _all_!" She took Mikey again. Her hand rose to jack the loose skin beyond her lips with almost immediate result. Mikey groaned. She backed away slightly and, still jacking gently, let a white streak squirt visibly into her open mouth, bringing additional gasps to her watchers and a louder groan to Mikey. The remaining spurts she accepted on cheek and chin before grinning around again. "Who's next?" "Me!" declared the erstwhile reader before anyone else could react. He pushed Mikey aside and substituted his own leg to support her head. She accepted him immediately. His eyes widened and his face contorted. "Oh, god, what a tongue!" Perhaps prompted by the verbal excerpt from _Opus Pistorum_ to which he had listened raptly, the boy who had envied Mikey squatted forward and lowered his mouth to the girl's left nipple. After a moment he raised up and announced, "Just like the book said, you can get the whole thing in your mouth." The farm boy among them grunted. "Not because she's a midget, which she ain't. She's just a kid who ain't growed her tits yet." "You mean she's too young to fuck?" The farm boy leaned down and nudged Tim's head slightly to one side, exposing the three fingers that he was working vigorously back and forth inside her under his tongue. "Young don't matter," he declared. "She sure as hell ain't no cherry." "I'm next!" cried the breast suckler, already replacing the reader's knee with his own as the other withdrew, groaning, leaving last dribbles on her forehead. But the girl turned her wet face away. "Oh, god!" she moaned, clenching her fists and shuddering. She drew herself suddenly to a sitting position. Her hands forced Tim's face away from her groin. He sat back in concern. "Did I do something wrong?" She smiled reassuringly as she relaxed. "Girls are the same as boys. You have to let up when they come." She turned her well- spotted face around to the others. "Hey, that's a good start!" She seemed to study their penises briefly. Settling on Tim, she leaned further forward and caught his hands in hers. "Come on," she said, pulling him atop her as she threw herself back, "do me right." "I'm about to come," he warned her. "Then you're next," she said, pointing to the breast suckler as her other hand guided Tim unerringly. * * * The question had been, "Which human tissue can expand by a factor of ten in response to an external stimulus?" Dr. Nathaniel Hawker chuckled in amusement as he drew a red line through another girl's answer and wrote above it in his near-print handwriting, "The iris of the eye." Once again he refrained from adding the punch-line of the old joke, "and I fear you shall be sadly disappointed." It was interesting, though perhaps not surprising, that so many more girls answered incorrectly than boys. He gave Peter Scort half credit, as he noted on the paper, for originality. Peter's answer claimed everything _except_ the eye and defined childhood growth as the consequence of one stimulus: eating. He thought to comment further that "What an organism does to itself, such as eating or jacking-off, is not considered a stimulus," but again refrained. The school building was very quiet. With a sigh he leaned back and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a bit early to close up the place, which along with furnace maintenance was one of Dr. Hawker's less pedantic duties in this under-funded institution, but even Miss Glockinvess, the night-owl math teacher, had already wheezed past his door toward the exit. He took a sudden breath and declared aloud, "Enough puerile handwriting and unconsidered responses!" He rose to his feet, donned coat and hat, locked his office and went first to the nearby rear entrance of the old school. He set the extension bolts at top and bottom of both doors, hung the "Closed" sign and reversed his course through the building. At the intersecting corridor he turned toward the basement door, behind which the ancient gas furnace had to be set manually for lowered nighttime output. He grinned as he trudged along. Surely by now the "Fast Fist Literature Appreciation Society" had met and duly analyzed the latest chapter of _Opus Pistorum_, a book from his hoard that he had loaned to it only two weeks earlier. He resolved to order Harvey, its reader, into his office tomorrow for a chat. It was time to make a decision about the two members new this year. Were they suitable candidates for introduction to the deeper mysteries -- in particular for the biology professor's introduction into them? He had stationed himself within the apparently locked tool closet to spy upon a recent meeting. The two neophytes were very young, nearly hairless below their ears. One had shown himself to be a spurter instead of a dribbler, having shot his load across the circle between two startled older boys. Hawker licked his lips. Both doubtlessly had tight anuses. The question was, how tight- lipped were they at the other end of the alimentary canal? He pushed the door open, took one step down the stairs and froze. He heard groans and boys' voices calling encouragement. Someone was panting. My god, were they fucking each other already without his permission? But the building might not be otherwise empty. He stuck his head back into the hall long enough to verify that at least no one was in sight, then allowed the door to close gently behind him. He tiptoed down the stairs and paused at the bottom after stepping over the clothing folded neatly on the last step. Why on the step, he wondered, instead of a sawhorse? Had they inducted a reluctant new member unbeknownst to the biology teacher? The common characteristic of the scene before him was upturned buttocks, though only one pair of them was moving in the expected manner. One boy was sitting back against the wall, slowly pumping his cock. He would have noticed the teacher had he been less intent upon the spectacle. Three boys were kneeling side- by-side, obscuring the body on the bottom before them. From shoulders twitching in the same rhythm, Hawker gathered that two other kneelers were contributing fingers to the point of contact. But wait: counting fucker and wall sitter, that total was seven. Indeed they had inducted an eighth! His first impulse was to charge back up the stairs and proceed without pause to the Canadian border. He felt the twinge in his left arm and shoulder that the doctor had foretold. He thought briefly of taking a nitro tablet but took a breath instead and reminded himself, as he had before, that these were in fact children blissfully unaware of how speedily the adult world would leap on their complaint. He suppressed his jolt of fear, daring to chuckle at his own precipitous caution, straightened his shoulders and marched forward. He recognized the birthmark on the buttocks cheek of Chad, one of the junction handlers. Leaning down, he clutched the lad's extended arm near the shoulder and exerting himself, raised Chad to his knees. "What's going on --" he began, but stopped with popping eyes, realizing that Chad's body had concealed a folded knee splayed out from the boy on the bottom. But the _inside_ of a thigh was now exposed, meaning that its owner was lying face up! Hawker stooped, verifying that the expected apparatus was indeed absent and that the lips flexing around the fucker's instrument, though hairless, were not the kind ever to be found surrounding an anus. "My god, that's a girl!" he asserted in awe and consternation. "She made us do it!" declared Chad, looking fearfully around at the astonished teacher. "Is your name Adam?" demanded Hawker absently. "Adam? You know I'm Chad!" Others had noticed the exchange. The wall-sitter sprang to his feet, blushing. The two next beside Chad rocked back on their heels, eyes wide on the teacher. But the latter's attention was on the now-exposed head with the shoulder-length blonde hair bouncing on the air mattress. Its mouth was open for panting breaths interspersed with soprano whimpers. The eyes were clenched shut. This was an orgasmic woman's face, he was confident, though in his whole life he had been privileged to see only one err now. When Hawker stood up, so did all the others except the girl and her fucker, now perceived to be Harvey, the reader. "Who is she?" Hawker demanded of Chad, still the closest. The boy shook his head wildly. "We don't know!" "Who brought her here?" "Nobody. She ... just showed up and wanted to fuck." Hawker laughed shortly. "You expect me to believe that?" "It's the truth!" Others joined in, reinforcing Chad's assertion. "How long has this been going on?" Chad looked puzzled. "I don't know. A good while. We've all had two turns." "Harvey's on his third," another contributed. "Sounds like him." Hawker took a deep breath. "Does any of you even begin to imagine what kind of trouble she can cause?" When they only looked at him with wide eyes, he added authoritatively, "Get Harvey off her, get your clothes on and bug out. I'll handle the rest of it." But when two of them grasped Harvey's arms from either side, he screamed, "Get the hell away! I'm coming!" The girl's eyes flew open. She stared up at the naked legs around her and the one pair in trousers. "Oh, shit!" she declared between gasps for breath. But her eyes clenched again. Her arms and legs closed around Harvey's body and pulled him down tight upon her. "Fuck hard!" she urged. The would-be interventionists looked to Hawker for directions. He sniffed. "Give him another half a minute. The rest of you get your clothes on." Apparently that was too much for the girl. Her arms and legs fell away. She pushed the boy to one side. "It's no use, Harvey. They've caught us." "But I'm almost --" "No, Harvey! Get off me." Panting, the boy rolled over to hip and elbow. He stared, recognizing Hawker. "She made us do it." The teacher observed dryly, "Another descendant of Adam's!" He studied the girl, who instinctively if pointlessly covered her pubes with both hands. Streaks of semen, interspersed with the occasional gobbet too sticky to run off, coated her face, neck, chest, belly and thighs. Hawker suppressed the expletive that occurred to him and instead extended his hand. "Come on, young lady. Get up." She allowed him to assist her. Her hand was wet, too. The air mattress was slimed where her groin had lain. "Wait here," he told her, going to the janitorial closet and returned with two handfuls of rags. He caught Chad's arm, giving him one handful. "Take these to the boys' washroom and soak them with warm water." Harvey, zipping his britches, asked, "Do you want us to ... meet you some--" "You come by my office when you get to school tomorrow morning." "Yes, sir." "All of you know to keep your mouths shut about this, I hope," Hawker added warningly, glaring around at the sobered boys. He had to be content with their chorus of acknowledgments. They filed up the stairs, stepping carefully over the girl's clothing. "What are you going to do with me?" she asked, studying the teacher. "That's a good question. You're Bobbie, ah ..." "Smith." "Yeah. The new girl. How old are you?" "Twelve." "Going on 25, right?" Her eyes twinkled. "What you can do is what matters, not how old you are." "Are they right? Did you make them do this?" "I showed them my pussy." He nodded. "Good answer." Chad came down the stairs two at the time and held out the dripping cloths. "You need me for anything else?" "No. Not today. And thank you." "Okay." He looked at the girl and shook his head. "You're something special!" he told her fervently. "You, too," she answered with a smile. "You've got the biggest dick." "Yeah!" he agreed with a grin. Hawker opened his mouth to order Chad away, but the lad turned of his own accord and ran back up the stairs. The man shook his head at Bobbie. "You're a come-soaked mess." She craned her head to study herself and leered at him. "They were full of it." "At that age they always are." He began to sponge her off with the warm cloths, drying her with the others. "How did it get on your back?" "Probably from turning my head and spitting it out." "A twelve year old cocksucker? Do you claim to like doing that?" "_They_ like it!" "Very few twelve year old girls -- boys, either -- care what boys like." "_I_ care!" "Yes, obviously. And that's the real question: how did you learn to care about such things?" She sniffed. "Anybody can see they'll do more for me if I do more for them." "Anybody!" he agreed dryly. "I care what men like, too." One of her hands clutched his wrist. The other snatched and threw away the wash cloth presently swabbing her thighs. She guided his fingers between her labia. He stiffened at first but soon relaxed as his fingers probed deeper. They stood silently, her hip pressing his lower belly. He bent over her short figure, fingers working between her legs, passing back and forth between vagina and anus. She endured it until she felt the new pressure at her hip. Her hands found his zipper and shortly captured his almost painful erection. He noted, "Not as big as Chad's, is it!" "It's big enough," she answered stoutly. She stooped slightly and took it into her mouth. He groaned at the feel of her tongue, but clasped her chin and raised her head away from him. "That's not what I want." She studied him. "You want my ass?" "I am no stranger to mouth and anus," he replied, beginning to remove his clothing. "That leaves my pussy." "Exactly: your twelve year old, presumably tight little pussy." She watched him thoughtfully. "You knew about the boys' circle jerks, didn't you?" "Why makes you say that?" "Because you didn't raise hell with them. You've fucked them, haven't you?" "Do you find something wrong with that?" She smiled. "Why are so many grown-ups against fucking?" "It scares them. If I let myself think about it, what I'm about to do to you would scare the hell out of me, too." "Why is that, Mr. Hawker?" "Because you're so young." "Do you think I'd tell on you?" Her voice was incredulous. "Why not?" "Because then you couldn't do it again." He laughed. "I can't believe this! Hell, you know all about it, don't you, Bobbie? Are you sure you're only twelve?" "I'm twelve." "Not a twenty year old midget?" She giggled. "They were reading about fucking a midget woman." "That's what I'm going to do, Bobbie." "What is?" "Make you my midget woman. I'm going to sit down next to the wall, and you're going to sit facing me on my dick, and I'm going to hold your hips and bounce you up and down like a rubber doll that was made for fucking. What do you say to that?" She grinned slowly. "I'm not a rubber doll, but I was sure made for fucking." * * * Tom sat at the cluttered table with a snug bathrobe covering his morning nakedness. He ate quickly to prevent the corn flakes becoming mushy but mainly because he was eager to jack off. He had awakened with the image of a beautiful woman's body in the forefront of consciousness. He didn't know her, but he knew where he'd seen her. A series of her photographs was secluded in a carefully misnamed folder on his computer, a folder he was ashamed to possess. Those images were not grossly pornographic but their effect upon his imagination excited him more than hardcore. He would use Vaseline and make the session last perhaps a half hour. Outside the wind screamed and snow swirled against his window. He wondered why he remained in this wretched basement apartment, plodding through the writing of a dissertation that would be read once by three people and then consigned to a shelf. He questioned not for the first time the choice he had made four years earlier to earn a Ph.D. He was lonely. He wanted a woman to love. The memory of Jenny in his bed a few nights before raised a curious anger in him, anger at himself. He was tempted to give it all up, to move to some place warm and find a woman who would make him happy. But of course he would do none of that, hence the anger. He heard a rapping on his door and feared it was once again Bobbie, that depraved, indecent little girl who deliberately threatened the fundamentals of his moral principles with her overtures of sex. He rose to his feet determined to shoo her away one more time. He would rather masturbate than fuck a sexually deranged child, no matter how eager. "Hi, Tom," Jenny said sweetly, when he opened the door. Tom gaped at the woman who was clad in a nurse's uniform, all white, even her hose, lacking only the cap. "Aren't you late for work?" he asked stupidly. "I called in sick," she smiled. "Are you ill? Can I help you somehow?" "No, no, Tommy. I'm just faking it today. Haven't you ever done that?" He just stared at her, at the bulge of her blouse. He had never seen her titties in the light. "But you can certainly help me," she added with some amusement. "Won't you let me in?" "Yes, of c-course, I'm sorry," he stammered and jerked aside for her to enter. "I'd rather you came in more than ... well, more than anything." She chuckled as he closed the door behind her and turned to her with the air of a puppy expecting a bone. She raised a cool palm gently to his cheek. "Tommy," she asked softly, "do you think you could take a day off to comfort me?" Suddenly he was elated. She wanted him a second time! He had never had the same girl twice, except for Fat Betty. He stared dumbly at her, his tongue momentarily paralyzed. "You're such a shy boy, Tommy, so much like my brother," Jenny whispered as she undid his robe, pushing it off his shoulders. He squeaked and pulled the attractive woman to his naked body. "I love you," he gasped. "I'm so glad, Tommy." She stroked his head. "We'll love each other this morning and into the afternoon. I need a young love today." He tried to help her shed the uniform but of course only succeeded in interfering. His eagerness and obvious pleasure in the intimate touch prompted her to indulge him. "We have all day, darling," she cooed into his ear, feeling his hard cock poke at her belly. "It's chilly," he remarked with a shiver. "Let's get under the covers." They pushed their bodies warmly together beneath the thick quilt. Jenny purposely enfolded Tom's erection and slowly masturbated him. "You're too excited, darling," she noted. "I want you to last when you get atop me." Her expert hand pumped him closer and closer to release as she kissed his lips. Their tongues touched when his body jolted and he spewed in great pleasure. "I think we're going to make a real mess of this bed today, sweetheart," she giggled. "I wish you weren't married," Tom complained wistfully, his hand full of tit. "Why is that, Tommy? Do you have moral scruples about fucking a married woman.?" "No," he responded quietly. "I'd like to marry you." "Tommy! You're talking like a horny graduate student. Let's just enjoy today. It has many hours left in it." "I suppose," he sighed, knowing the truth of her words. He ducked his head under the quilt to suckle a soft tit. "Ah, baby," Jenny groaned and held his head to her breast. She enjoyed his mouth on her while waiting impatiently for him to become hard again. "Do you need me to suck on you, darling? I want you so much." "I hope you will suck me later," Tom replied, moving atop the woman, between her spread legs. "But just now I want you in my arms more than anything." After a false start he found the hole and sank himself into her completely. "Oh, glory!" Jenny exclaimed and raised her knees high to push back at her lover. They kissed passionately as they fucked, Jenny almost out of control, Tom with an icy determination. He pounded his cock into the gasping woman, measuring her response, wanting to bring her to utter wildness, knowing that thanks to her foresight, he could last. "Oh, god!" she wailed and scratched his shoulders. Her body quivered beneath him and she uttered a screech. There was more to come, he knew and pumped her relentlessly. "Oh, Tommy, oh god, Tommy," she yelled loudly, and her body went absolutely rigid, her thighs squeezing his body. She was not yet done, he knew instinctively. He continued to fuck her violently. She screamed into his mouth for long seconds, then suddenly became limp beneath him. He felt a great satisfaction at his accomplishment and slowed his thrusting to relish the feel of her warm tightness around his cock. With small kisses to her sweaty, dazed face he brought himself to a momentous, shuddering pleasure. He remained atop her for a few moments, supported by his elbows, his cock wilting within her. He felt proud at that moment. He had done a good job. * * * "Paul's so moody lately," Jenny complained as she played with Tom's right nipple. They snuggled together, enjoying the warmth of each other's body. Womanlike, Jenny needed to tell someone about the incredible turn her life had taken, about the old men she serviced almost every day. She didn't dare to mention them, which left only Paul. "I can't imagine being moody with you," he responded, affectionately placing his lips over her nose. "How could any healthy man not want you?" "You're still young, Tommy. You haven't been worn away," Jenny said, holding his flaccid cock in her hand. "If I'm to experience wear and tear, I'd rather you do it," he said with a kiss to her cheek. "It's a lovely thought, darling, but I'm too old for you, except for today. I'm being selfish, you know, robbing the cradle like this." "Robbing the cradle!" he exploded with amusement. "I was a soldier in a war." "You're just a young boy, you know, despite your soldiering. I bet you never went with a whore." Tom remained silent. It was the truth. "You're just a baby to me, Tommy, a delightful baby." "And yet we fuck. Do you prefer to fuck babies, Jenny? Bobbie is a little baby to me. Should I let her have her way?" "Stop it!" Jenny shouted and leaned up on an elbow, her face screwed up in anger. "Don't you ever touch that sick little girl!" "I would never do that, you know," he said softly, seeking to calm the woman. "But don't refer to me as a baby. I'm a grown man, although younger than you." "I'm sorry, darling," she murmured and kissed his left eye. "It was just an endearment... Speaking of Bobbie, she's beginning to worry me even more." "What's she done now?" "You're here just about all the time, aren't you? Have you noticed when she gets home from school?" He hesitated, then admitted that he had noticed. "About three thirty, usually." "That's what I thought. But I got home early yesterday, about five, and she came in with her book bag at six thirty. She said she'd been at school, studying, but she reeked of sex. And I know the school locks up at five. I'm afraid she'll get seriously hurt." He grunted. "Maybe so, but I doubt it'll be a sexual hurt." Again Jenny couldn't tell him what she really feared: that the heedless child would come to the attention of city authorities, with direct consequences for Paul and herself. She said only, "I suppose not, if men would stick only their dicks into girls." They cuddled, his hands roaming over her body, lingering in the usual places, where male touch had become so common to her as to be noticeable only when she concentrated. Except in one spot, into which a roaming finger probed briefly. "Tommy?" she asked. "Yes?" "Do you have, you know, some lubrication?" "For what? You're juicy enough." Jenny hesitated and finally whispered, "I want you to do me in the behind. I want to give you my only virgin part." "But that would hurt you!" "I want to feel it at least once, Tommy. I want to be very special with you." She was lying, of course. She had already let Paul fuck her in the ass, which she had managed to enjoy overall because of his concurrent attention to her clitoris, and several cocks had penetrated her the next day before the porno cameras. But now she wanted this young man, so like her dead brother, to feel special about her -- despite the likely discomfort. "It would be selfish of me," he protested. "I would get pleasure while you were getting hurt." "Tommy!" she scowled in exasperation, "you should be more forceful. Take what I'm offering you." He hesitated but finally leaned across the bed to retrieve a well-used jar of Vaseline from the drawer of the night stand. Jenny turned onto her stomach and spread her legs slightly in invitation. "You're a beautiful sight from behind, Jenny," he murmured as he smeared his cock with the grease. He fondled a soft thigh for a moment and then pushed her legs further apart. He climbed between them and searched for her hole with the tip of his cock. Finding it, he pushed into her ever so gently, but her twitch signaled her pain. "Are you all right?" he asked, ready to pull out. "Put it in, darling," she choked in response, "all the way." He did so very slowly. At last he pressed his lower belly against her buttocks, thighs touching hers, chest upon her back. All of her was soft against his body and his cock was encased in a warm snugness. "It feels exquisite, Jenny, but I won't come soon." "Leave it in a while longer, dearest." She sighed. "It doesn't hurt any more." He pumped a few slow, short strokes as he nuzzled his face to her fragrant hair. Then, after two long thrusts, he withdrew and rolled off her body. "I thank you, honey," he murmured, hand on her shoulder, "but I could tell it was hurting you." Jenny turned over and smiled at him. "You're too considerate, Tommy. You'd probably get laid more often if you weren't so sweet." "With you I can only be sweet," he said and pulled her to him for a lingering kiss. "Let's take a shower together, darling. I want to wash you and then swallow the seed of such a sweet man." As she caressed him in the shower, he asked, "Are you mad with me for pulling out?" "It _is_ a form of rejection," she admitted though smiling into his eyes, "especially when a man pulls out of his woman for her own good." "Oh, Jenny, I'm so sorry! I would do anything to --" "Hush!" she admonished, a finger on his lips. "You'll put back into me in a moment, and I guarantee it won't hurt either of us." * * * Jenny left Tom's apartment at four in the afternoon. Their numerous couplings had been interspersed with naps in each other's arms. His love for her was profound, but, indeed, hopeless, because he knew he could never have her for his own. She felt somewhat guilty at using the lovely boy, but she went upstairs feeling a sense of pureness about herself that had too long been absent from her life. NEXT: Chapter 17: New Friendships Varangian: ludmax11@hotmail.com Kellis: kellis@dhp.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+