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Digger by Emerson Laken- Palmer
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Digger
by
Emerson Laken-Palmer
For Amy and this memory.....
It was 1967 and I had just turned 16...
Late that summer my family went on vacation to a cottage in (what
was then) a resort area of Canada on the shores of Lake Erie. We
were there for two weeks. My parents allowed me and my little
sister to each bring a friend with us. I brought Mike and Bess
brought her little girlfriend Laurie.
Me and Mike had a lot of fun swimming and laying on the beach and
playing ball but what we were REALLY looking for was (as always)
PUSSY.
I had specifically brought Mike with me because he had a way with
the girls. He wasn't nervous or shy around them (like I was). He
had gotten laid (many times) and seemed to know how to get what he
wanted from the opposite sex. They all seemed to want him too.
He was seventeen and dark and had a James Dean like quality about
him that made him popular at his High School. I figured he could
get us into the sack with a couple of vacationing cuties and make
this a summer for me to remember forever.
This (as I had it figured) was going to be my opportunity to
finally lose my virginity!
Mike knew what was expected of him and did his best for me.
Whenever we were at the beech, he would walk up to pretty, bikini-
clad gals and try and get us lined up for a night of sexual bliss
but (for some reason) none of his charm or appeal seemed to be
working.
The first week went by disappointingly and then most of the
second.
The day before we went home, me and Mike decided to walk around
down in the little town of Leamington and see if there was any
action there. It was the average, sleepy little town, with it's
main street of grocery stores, hardware emporiums, theatre, bakery,
drug store, city hall and hotels (because there were no bars in
Ontario - you had to have a hotel to serve liquor then).
We were just leaving the drug store when we met a gang of local
teens. There were about ten of them, just wandering around like
we were. They looked like the Canadian equivalent of early punk-
rockers. They all wore leather and tried to seem like tough guys.
They asked us for cigarettes and we gave them some. Guys like
these would have taken all my smokes and kicked my ass but they
seemed to like Mike, as he stood and talked to them. They were
Rolling Stones fans and Mike was too. They talked about how Mick
Jagger and Keith Richards could easily beat the crap out of John
Lennon and Paul McCartney (in a fair fight) and how GET OFF MY
CLOUD was ten times the song that STRAWBERRY FIELDS was and then
we got to walking around the town with them.
There was a girl hanging out with the gang. She called herself
"Digger" and she was about my age and tall and skinny. She had
bleach-blond, black-rooted, over-permed hair and a cute, upturned-
nose kind of face. She had two rows of perfectly aligned, white,
little teeth behind the full lips of her pert mouth. She looked
like the actress Meg Ryan would have appeared at the age of
fifteen. She wore a white t-shirt and a black, leather jacket with
lots of silver zippers and tight, over-worn, black, denim jeans and
black, high-heel shoes with straps at her exposed ankles. She
walked, with her hands in her jacket pockets, in an easy, graceful
gait that made her ass sway slowly and seductively.
I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. She was pretty and brash and
loud, bending and laughing and grabbing the guys and smacking them
as they all walked and talked, in sexual innuendo, about her thin
but curvy body.
"Digger's got the hottest little ass in Canada," one boy laughed
as we slowly passed the bakery on Main Street.
"But not for you, Arnold," she giggled, putting her hands on her
hips and shaking her round behind at him. Her black jeans molded
perfectly to the cheeks of her ass as she wiggled it.
Everyone laughed.
"Do you spit or swallow, Digger?" asked another.
"Yours I'd spit, Ricky. But only after I bit that little fucker
off for you!"
Ricky assumed a painful expression and clutched his crotch and
she growled in mock anger and playfully punched the red-haired boy
in the stomach as everyone laughed again.
"Digger swallows," stated the tall, muscular, older boy, who
seemed to be their leader and he put his hand in her open jacket,
as he walked beside her, and grabbed the bump of her small, left
breast and squeezed it adding, "at least, she always swallows it
when I cum in her mouth."
"Ohh!" the gang members sang, in unison, respectfully to their
leader but, at the same time, tauntingly toward Digger.
"Yeah," she said, pulling his hand out of her jacket and walking
backward as she turned to look at the group, "and, I bet, all of
YOU swallow, when he comes in YOUR mouths, too!"
"Ohh!" they all taunted again, but knowing that she had bested
them.
But one of the boys wasn't going to let that insult go
unchallenged. "And YOU don't like to eat pussy, Digger? That's
not what I hear, eh? I hear that you and Sandy Johnson stripped
off your suits and made each other cum, on the beech past Seacliff
Park, the other night. I heard it from her brother! He was
watching you two from the edge of the grass!"
"Yeah, Lee," she replied now, looking back at him, "and Sandy
Johnson won't let you even near her. Does that mean that she knows
that my little tongue is longer than your cock?"
Everyone laughed again. Except Lee.
After a time, I joined in with their raunchy talk, commenting
approvingly about her sexy body but not in an insulting way.
Digger wasn't smacking me for what I was saying (though I wanted
her to touch me). She just smiled at me (and what I was saying)
and she looked at me in a way that other girls, I had known, never
did. It was as if she was appraising me for some unknown purpose.
After we had walked around for a while, we ended up by the lake,
at the edge of the town's residential area. Old, asbestos-sided
houses and side streets took up one side of the road that
overlooked the rise leading down to the beech. The other gang
members had split off and gone home and it was now just Digger,
Mike and me.
I stood next to the dilapidated, wooden fence that was supposed
to keep people from walking down, past the private cottages, to the
beech below and watched Mike and Digger as they stood together in
the middle of the blacktopped road. I was waiting for him to start
talking to her and working his charm on her. Hoping that he could
get her to maybe do something with us. She had her hands in her
jacket pockets again and they were now toe-to-toe in front of a
green house with a screen porch.
"So," Mike said to her, after they had just stood there for some
time, "if I told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold
it against me?"
Digger looked up at the sky and snorted and then she took a step
back, cocked her head at him, bent in amusement and yelled, "Jesus
God! Is that the kind of bullshit line those bad-ass Detroit girls
go for?" She shook her head and laughed at him. "Does that lame
kind of shit really get you into THEIR pants?" she scoffed as she
backed away from him and stood, by the fence, next to me.
Mike seemed uncharacteristically embarrassed and mentioned that
it was getting late and that my mom would have supper about ready.
He turned and went back to the cottage leaving me and Digger alone.
Digger looked out into Lake Erie as I stood close beside her and
listened to the gulls and the wind and the waves coming from down
on the beech. I noticed that her heels and her long, sexy legs
made her stand almost as tall as I was. I could feel her body
shiver next to me and (summoning courage) I took a chance and put
an arm around her soft, thin waist. She turned abruptly to me and,
without warning, wrapped her arms around my neck, softly pushed her
pretty mouth to mine, and kissed me in a sexy, tongue probing
manner that I was unused to but thrilling me to my toes as I closed
my eyes and tasted the sweetness of her warm, agile mouth.
Just then a young, dark haired, bare-footed boy approached from
up the road and hollered, "Amy! You gotta' get home! Mom's
lookin' for you!"
Digger broke off our sweet, wonderful kiss, stamped her high-
heeled foot on the loose gravel and turned to the boy. "Damn you,
Kevin!" she yelled. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Well," he repled, unflustered by her anger, "get UN-busy and get
home!"
The boy turned and slowly walked off and Digger sighed and said,
"That's my little brother. He's a pain in the fuckin' ass!"
She snatched a cigarette from the open pack in my shirt pocket
and lit it with a shiny Zippo from her jacket, blowing the smoke
directly into the strong, warm, August wind that was whipping in
from the great lake.
"I gotta' go," she said and she turned and started to walk away,
leaving me standing there alone.
"Yeah, I understand." I called out to her.
Digger stopped and turned to me. "Listen," she said and she took
another drag of her cigarette, "see that little white cottage by
the access road over there?" She pointed to it.
"Yeah."
"I'm baby-sitting for the Miller's tonight. They're from Ohio."
"Yeah?"
Digger flicked her cigarette aside and walked back to me, taking
my hands and placing them on her warm sides, at the curves of her
hips. She held them there as she looked right into my face with
her pale-blue eyes and smiled. "Do you like me?" she asked, her
eyebrows raised in query.
I laughed. "Of course I do!"
"Then, do you want me?"
"What do you mean, do I want you?"
She laughed now but then her face became serious as she stared
into my eyes. "I mean, do you want to fuck me?"
I had never been asked a question like this before and the look
on her pretty face and the feel of her thin, feminine body between
my hands and the meaning of her question caused my dick to harden
rigid in my pants.
"Y-yes!" I stammered.
"Alright," she stated flatly. "You come to that cottage at ten
o'clock. Knock on the door and I'll answer. The Miller's have one
kid. She's a baby and she sleeps the whole time I'm there.
They're going to dinner and a movie and they won't be back till
after midnight. We can fuck in their bed or in the livingroom, on
the couch or on the floor. Anywhere you want to fuck me. I don't
care."
I just stared into her pretty features, not believing my
wonderful fortune as she said those words to me. My mind was
reeling with the fact that I was finally going to get laid! That
a girl (an attractive, long legged, curvy girl) was actually going
to willingly give herself to me!
Her eyes squinted at me, searching my face for a reply. "Okay?"
I gulped and nodded and said. "Yeah!"
Digger pushed herself against me now and kissed me again with
even more wet passion than the last time. I felt her put her hand
between us, as we stood together and kissed, and she squeezed my
rigid cock, through my pants, making it throb wildly. She removed
her mouth from mine and put her soft cheek to the side of my face
and her lips to my ear and I could smell a sweet fragrance in her
blond hair as she said, "I want to feel this hard thing fuck inside
me tonight. I want to feel it when it throbs and shoots your cum
into me."
I trembled as she squeezed my cock harder and licked at my ear
with her warm, wet tongue. She took my hand from the curve of her
hip and pushed it up between her legs and then pressed my palm
firmly against the jut of her pubic bone at the wide, smooth crotch
of her denims. I could feel the outline and the heat of her pussy,
through the soft material, as we stood together, wetly kissing and
feeling each others sexual areas, outdoors, on a public street, in
the bright, yellow light of late afternoon.
"Amy!" her brother's irritated call echoed from way up the road
now.
She pushed herself back from me and gasped, "Shit! I gotta' go!"
Breathlessly I replied, "Yeah. I heard."
"Ten o'clock," she stated as she turned and started walking up
the road and she looked back at me as she walked and added, "Don't
forget!"
Forget? I was so excited that I can't even remember walking back
to the cottage or what was for dinner or if I even ate. I do
remember that Mike was quite happy for me, after I told him what
was going to happen.
"This looks like it, Pal," he said. "It sounds like a sure
thing."
"Yeah," I said, as we stood by the side of our rental cottage
where my dad's Ford Galaxy was parked, "but what do I do? What do
I say? How do I act?"
"You fuck her, Man! That's all there is to it. She wants you!
Just go over there and give her what she wants. Fuck her!"
"It can't be that simple."
"Don't make such a big thing out of this. That's why you strike
out so much. It's simple. She wants your dick. Get between her
legs, put it in her pussy and fuck her. That's all you need to
think about."
"But what if, by the time I get there, she's not in the mood
anymore?"
Mike laughed. "Not in the mood? That kind of girl is ALWAYS in
the mood!"
"THAT kind of girl?" I said, with my eyebrows up.
"Oh man! Don't you know ANYTHING? Didn't you see her with those
guys? Weren't you paying attention to anything that was said?"
I shrugged.
"She's the town pump! She's a.. a.. groupie! A tramp. A slut!"
My eyes flashed angrily at him.
"Emerson, you hopeless putz! Why do you like to make angels out
of every girl who smiles at you? Wake up! She's a little whore!
But don't get me wrong... I mean it in the nicest way. And she's
going to give that sweet little pussy of her's to YOU! Get with
it! Don't make such a big deal out of it. You're gonna' fuck this
girl, not marry her!"
"God, Mike! That's not what I saw. She's a nice girl. I could
tell. She just wants friends.... people to like her. She just
wants love and attention..."
"Love?" Mike laughed loudly now. "You asshole! It's no wonder
you never get laid! You know what your problem is? You think with
your dick when you're supposed to think with your head and THEN you
turn around and think with your HEAD when you're supposed to think
with your DICK!"
"That's ridiculous!"
"Yeah?" he challenged. "You THINK yourself out of more pussy
than any guy I've ever known! Shit! My little brother is going
to get laid before you do!"
I was listening to him but I wasn't listening to him. I was too
edgy and nervous to listen or think.
The next two hours were the slowest of my teenage life.
My parents and my little sister and her friend went to the drive-
in to see GOOD NEIGHBOR SAM with Jack Lemmon. That left Mike to
sit (and me to pace) until quarter to ten.
"Alright," Mike said, calling a halt to my aimless walking around
the little kitchen, "this is it. Zero hour of D-Day! American
cock versus Canadian pussy. Go get her!"
I had chain-smoked all of my cigarettes so I took one of Mike's
and lit it.
"Here," he said, handing me the pack, "you'll need one for
after."
I was a bundle of nerves as I thrust the pack of Players into my
shirt pocket and walked to the door, hesitating as I grabbed the
latch.
"Go on!"
"But how do I..."
"Remember," he coached, "it's the wet, soft, hairy place between
her legs. There's a hole there and it smells like tuna. You can't
miss it!"
I opened the door and stepped out into the night, listening to
the sounds of the crickets and the waves from the lake as I walked,
in the warm night air, down the road that led to the rise above the
Miller's cottage.
It was precisely ten o'clock when I knocked on the wooden, screen
door. I could hear the sound of the television playing the theme
from THE AVENGERS as I stood and waited for her to come.
THE AVENGERS theme ended, as I waited on the back porch, and then
a commercial jingle for Winston cigarettes came merrily through the
screen window.
I knocked again as I listened to the happy tune:
"...it's what's up front that counts
and up front, ahead of the filter,
only Winston has the smooth, fresh taste
that comes from filter blend..."
When I knocked the third time, the TV went silent and, after a
moment, I could hear footsteps in the kitchen and then the door
slowly opened and there she stood, smiling.
"Hi," she said, in a happy but odd sounding voice.
She was every bit as sexy and pretty as she was this afternoon.
She was still wearing the t-shirt and the skin-tight, black jeans
but not the jacket and she was bare footed now as she opened the
screen door to let me in.
"You're right on time," she said as she took my hand and led me
through the little kitchen area to the livingroom and sat down on
the couch, smiling up at me and patting the space beside her.
It was a cottage exactly like the one my family had rented. A
kitchenette and livingroom with a sofa, one old upholstered chair
and a low coffee table. There was a black and white TV on a stand,
across from the couch, and a counter shelf with a glowing lamp and
an old radio on it. Two doors led to a dark bedroom and a tiny
bathroom. It was all done in varnished pine.
I sat down next to her and she leaned to the coffee table and
picked up a half-empty bottle of Bombay dry gin and took a long
swig.
She looked at me, with her cheeks full of liquor, and then
swallowed, wiping her pretty mouth with her wrist and holding the
bottle in front of me. "Want some?"
"No thanks." I said.
"Aw," she responded, loudly. "This is a party! Don't you want
to party with me?"
"Yeah... sure. It's just that... drinking makes my dick
shrivel."
She groaned loudly and took another long drink and set the bottle
back on the table. "Shit!" she slurred, sitting upright and then
leaning against me so that her face was pushed to my neck and her
hand was on my chest. "We can't have THAT happening! I want that
thing!"
She lifted her head and looked up into my eyes and laughed and
then she put her arm around my neck and pulled me and pressed her
parted, wet lips to mine, thrusting her tongue into my mouth and
sucking my tongue into her's.
I could taste the gin and smell it strongly on her breath as I
positioned myself more facing her and clutched her thin body to
mine, returning her kiss with as much energy as she was expending
toward me.
She took my hand and ran it up under her t-shirt and pressed it
against her smallish, naked breast. I felt her large, hard nipple
against my palm as I squeezed her breast and held her body and
kissed her harder.
I could feel her hand pulling down the zipper of my pants and
then struggling with the double buckle of my belt.
Damn, I thought as my tongue spared with hers. I should have
taken the belt off before I left our cottage!
I had to pull my mouth from her's as I lifted my ass to unfasten
my belt for her.
As I worked at the double clasp, Digger got up from the couch and
snatched the gin bottle from the low table, taking a long swig from
it as she stumbled over to the radio and turned it on. A jingle
for "Radio 8" CKLW played and then ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE began to
flow melodically from the speaker.
Digger closed her eyes and began to sway her thin, curvy body to
the music of the Beatles as she held the gin bottle against her
chest and began to sing along in a surprisingly sweet and angelic
voice...
"Love, love, love
love, love, love..."
"Shouldn't you sit back down?" I asked, watching her lanky body
start to sway a little too far, causing her to stumble but right
herself.
"No," she said to me, with her eyes still closed. "I'm buzzin'!"
"... there's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.
All you need is love..."
Digger's eyes opened wide and she looked over at the radio for
a moment. "You're God damn right!" she suddenly shouted at it.
"That's all I fuckin' NEED!" And she abruptly stooped, putting her
hand over her open mouth as a look of extreme, pitiful anguish
crossed her face. Her eyes got wide and wet and dripped a stream
of huge, shiny tears down both of her cheeks as she bent lower and
grimaced and began to sob loudly and wretchedly, dropping to her
knees and covering her face with her hands as her body shook and
she noisily cried.
I jumped up and ran to her, my pants now loose and falling to my
thighs as I went.
As I reached her, she was sitting on the floor with her face
hidden between her drawn up knees and her arms folded over her
blond head. Her body was shaking as I bent down and soothingly
touched her shoulder.
Digger's head snapped up and she looked at me with a wide grin
on her pretty, wet face. She was laughing now. Laughing hard and
rolling onto her back, holding her flat stomach as she cackled
loudly and rocked back and forth on the faded, linoleum floor.
"...Nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown..."
I reached over and snapped off the radio. Then I picked up the
gin bottle that was laying on it's side by Digger's rounded hip and
set it on the counter.
There was a box of tissues on the coffee table and I took one and
handed it to her, watching as she sat up and then noisily blew her
nose.
"Come on," I coaxed as I took her hands. "Let's get up off of
the dirty floor."
Digger smiled at me, her face still wet and streaked with her
tears. "Okay," she said brightly as I pulled her to a standing
position and then led her back to the couch.
I went to set her down but she suddenly turned to me and grabbed
my shoulders and pulled me around and pushed me back so that I fell
to the couch and was sitting by the armrest. Then she quickly sat
on my lap and wrapped her arm around my neck, smiling happily at
me. She gripped my chin with her free hand and pulled my face to
hers.
We kissed strongly again and then she pulled her lips away and
said, "You're so nice! You're so nice to me! That's all I want."
Tears began to gush down her cheeks again and her lower lip
quivered as she looked into my face and, with her voice halting and
trembling in sorrow, said, "All I ever wanted... is a nice boy...
who treats me like a decent girl."
"Yeah," I told her, trying to stem her impending grief, "sure.
I'm the guy. I'll be nice to you. Don't cry."
Digger seemed to casually toss away her misery with a shake of
her head and a wave of her hand. She smiled now and looked into
my face as if she were just noticing, for the first time, that I
was even there. "I want to fuck!" she announced to me in loud,
slurred, thick syllables. "I want you to fuck me hard!" she said
and then she fell backwards so that she was laying on the couch
with her ass still on my lap and her legs over the armrest.
I watched her as she unsnapped the catch at the waistband of her
jeans and then pulled her zipper down to her smooth crotch and
spread the front of her denims open. I could see, through the
parted V, that she was wearing pink, bikini panties underneath.
Digger grabbed my arm and pulled herself back up and pushed her
mouth to mine again, kissing me gently and sweetly now, moving her
pretty face at mine and maneuvering her sweet tongue around, in my
mouth, in a yearning manner that made my cock harden stiffly under
her ass.
I put my hand up her shirt and groped the flesh of her warm
breasts again for a few moments, as we kissed, and then I pushed
my hand down into her open jeans, feeling first the softness of her
smooth, flat, lower belly and then the delicate fur of her pubic
area and then the abundant wetness as my fingers passed the jut of
her pelvic bone and found the indention of her feminine slit.
"Mmmmm," she moaned into my face as she passionately kissed me
and I felt her part her legs a little so that my hand had room to
work its way down into her pants.
The silky crotch of her panties was hot and moist, on the back
of my hand, as my finger pushed into the slippery groove between
her hair-covered mons and ran over her slick, swollen clitoris.
She tilted her head back and moaned loudly and I kissed her
offered neck as my middle finger found the wet entrance of her hot
vagina and probed its way inside of her.
"Oh God!" she gasped. "Yes! Push it into me!"
I shoved my longest finger into her body, folding my other
fingers into a fist and pushing in until I felt her warm, puffy
butt cheeks and her soft, damp pussy lips on my knuckles. I
marveled at how slick and wet and textured and hot and tight it was
inside of her. That was as far as I had ever put a finger into a
girl before and, as I probed around and held her sexy body and
sucked on her neck, I could actually feel the structure of her
cervix (or something) deep inside of the hot confines of her belly.
Digger rocked her ass on my lap. "Fuck with it! Fuck it into
me!"
I began to thrust in and out with my finger now. Feeling my cock
becoming hard as iron, in my pants, as her ass moved around on it.
Digger gripped my neck with both of her arms and pushed her mouth
to mine again, licking my tongue in abandon, and then she groaned
and placed her face at my neck and began to lick and suck and bite
and hug me tightly as I finger fucked her.
I could feel her soft, inner thighs against my hand as my finger
twisted and probed and pushed into her wet sex with the urgency of
my building lust. I could distinctly smell the spicy fragrance of
her pussy in the air now and that wondrous odor drove me to further
sexual fury.
This was it, I told myself. I was finally going to do it! Now
was my time. I was going to get it. I was going to actually fuck
this pretty, sensual girl. I was going to go all the way and I was
going to do it without any more delay.
My idea was to lay her down now. Lay her down and remove her
jeans and panties and fuck her right here on the couch. She was
wet. She was hot. She was ready and so was I.
That's when I noticed that Digger wasn't sucking at my neck
anymore. And that her arms seemed to have gone limp and her head
was just resting heavily on my shoulder. In fact, she suddenly
seemed like dead weight on my lap.
"Digger?"
I heard no response as I sat there with her sexy body draped over
me and my finger still deep up in her hot vagina.
"Digger?" I shook her with my upper body.
Still no response.
Now I maneuvered her shoulders back from me and watched her as
she fell backward, with a soft thud, to the couch. The whites of
her eyes showed behind the long lashes of her closed eyelids and
her mouth lolled open. Her one arm had landed limply over her
stomach and her other arm dangled lifelessly in the air, off the
side of the couch.
Digger was out cold.
Shit!
I couldn't believe it, as I looked down to where my wrist
disappeared into the open flap of her tight, black jeans. I fucked
my finger into her a few more times, watching the material at her
crotch revealing my hand's probing movements inside.
I looked up at her soft-looking, flat stomach, where it was
exposed between the bottom of her white t-shirt and the open waist
of her black denims. I could see her belly button rise and fall
with her steady breathing. (It was an innie.)
What do I do now? I asked myself. My wonderful first fuck of my
life is unconscious. Dead to the world. Lifeless and vulnerable.
Unable to say yes or no. Go or stop.
What was I supposed to do? I was no animal. I was no rapist.
I knew what was expected of a gentleman in this situation. I knew
that a boy should never compromise a girl who is incapacitated.
I pulled my finger from Digger's hot pussy, extracting it from
her pants and putting it to my nose, sniffing the alluring odor of
the pussy liquor that coated it. The sharp, girl smell made my
hard cock throb and my head reel with lust.
I reached over, with both hands, and pulled her shirt up, as she
lay there, exposing the untanned, white mounds of both her pert
little breasts to me. Her areolas were dark and small, surrounding
large, erect, thimble-shaped nipples. I placed my hands over them,
capturing their heated, delicate feel and fondling them as I
thought about what I should do.
I was a gentleman, I told myself. I knew what was right and what
was wrong. I knew what was expected of me and what a gentleman had
to do in a case like this.
I eased myself out from under her limp body and stood by the
couch, looking down on her reclining, unconscious, curvaceous,
lovely, feminine form.
Then I leaned down, grabbed the waistband of her soft, black
denims and started to pull them off of her.
I had decided to fuck her anyway.
As I clutched and pulled and tugged at her pants, I realized that
getting tight jeans off of an unconscious female was no easy task.
She must have taken five minutes to pull these things on! And that
was when she was awake and knew how to do it. Even though I was
pulling and tugging for all I was worth, Digger's ass seemed to be
wider than the waistband of the jeans and her thighs were thicker
than the pant legs. Her ass was also just dead weight between the
well-worn, tightly fitting material and the couch. After a minute
of pulling, her denims were just going inside out and I had only
managed to get them down to just above the patch of her pussy.
I let go and rubbed my hands together. Thinking of just how I
was going to do this.
I rolled her limp body to her side, facing the back of the couch,
staring at her sexy, rounded ass as I tried to pull the back of her
jeans down over it. I tugged until I could see the twin dimples,
at the base of her spine, above the contour of her thin, lower back
and then the crack of her rounded, soft-looking butt. Then I
rolled her, towards me, to her other side and pulled down a little
more, trying to get the stretched material over the deep curve of
her hip. I could see the white of her bikini tan line as I pushed
her warm, languid body to her back again and, grabbing the soft
denim at her hips, pulled down still further. The fur of Digger's
pussy appeared now and I pulled harder as it slowly came fully into
view. It was a cute, perfect little triangle of jet-black, soft
looking hair.
The breath caught in my throat as I stared down at it and pulled
some more. Now the narrow space between her closed thighs appeared
as her jeans rolled inside out but they were starting to give way
and come down. I could see her pink panties, tangled inside-out
with the material of her black jeans. The crotch looked shiny and
soaked with her female secretions. I tugged down a little more,
watching her thighs slowly appear as she lay lifeless on the couch.
I was out of breath from the effort. Who knew it would be this
much work? My back ached now and I dropped to my knees beside her
limp body.
I stared at the alluring black mound of her pussy for a few
moments as I sat on the floor and regained myself.
I got to my knees again and reached over with the fingers of both
hands and carefully spread the soft, furry lips apart. I could see
the protrusion of her pink clitoris as I held open the notch of her
sexual furrow and closely examined it. It was shiny-wet with her
viscous, excited juices.
I leaned over and put my nose to her pussy, sniffing it and
thrilling to the stimulating fragrance of the feminine sex. Then
I pushed my tongue into the space between her pillow-like mons,
licking slowly up and down in her slippery notch and over the warm,
textured sheath of her swollen clitoris. I couldn't lick down as
far as her vagina though because her jeans still shackled her
thighs together.
I sat back and swallowed the thick pussy nectar that my tongue
had collected, savoring her flavor. Digger's pussy tasted tart and
sweet, like lemons and Canadian maple syrup.
I could feel my cock bucking in my pants now. Throbbing and
stiff and ready to be enveloped by her hot, slick, inner feminine
socket. Aching to spew its potent load of sperm into this sexy,
soft, curvy body.
I jumped up and grabbed the top of her jeans again. Determined
now to wrangle them off of her, spread her legs wide apart and sink
my hard, raging cock deep into her open, tight, heavenly sex-hole.
In one hard tug, her jeans pulled down to mid thigh. Another tug
and I had her legs up at my chest and her pants pulled down to her
knees.
That's when I heard the sound of a car engine coming close and
then pulling up to the front of the cottage. Its headlights
suddenly illuminated the curtains of the front windows and bathed
the room in bright, white light.
Shit! No!
I heard voices now, as the motor shut off and the lights went
out, and the sound of a car door opening out front.
I dropped her long, sexy, lifeless legs and pulled my drooping
pants up around my waist, clutching the snap at my belly and
running toward the back door of the cottage now as I heard the car
doors slam and the voices draw closer.
I opened the back door, losing the grip of my pants which began
to fall down my legs as I stepped out and turned, stumbling over
the back step and falling, ass first, off the side of the porch.
I landed, with a hard thud, on the grass below.
I could hear a key in a lock and then the front door of the
cottage open as I lay in the wet dew, below the open back window,
trying to catch my breath.
It suddenly dawned on me how much trouble Digger was going to be
in when the Millers found her laying there, drunk and unconscious,
on the couch with her jeans down around her knees and her pussy
exposed. If only I'd had time to...
"Amy?" I heard a woman's voice from inside the cottage. "Amy,
we're back."
Now I heard Digger's voice. It was calm and cheerful and clear
sounding as she said, "I didn't expect you guys until after
midnight."
"Yeah, honey. I know. The second feature was a bore so we left
early. Was Kim any trouble?"
"She slept like a baby."
"She IS a baby," I heard Mrs. Miller say and then there was
laughter.
"Is five dollars okay with you?"
"Fine. Thanks!"
"Roger will drive you home, unless you'd rather walk in the
dark?"
"No. He can drive me."
I rolled on my side and quickly fastened my pants. Then I
crawled away from the view of any windows or doors and carefully
stood up, brushing the grass from my clothes as I started to walk
back toward my parents' cottage. I saw the light-blue Plymouth,
carrying Mr. Miller and Digger, drive past me on the lower access
road.
When I got back to the cottage, Mike was waiting for me. My
folks hadn't yet returned from the drive-in.
"Well?" he said as I walked in.
I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a Coke and then I went
to the drawer, looking for an opener.
"Well?" he repeated. "Did you do it? Did you fuck her? Are you
still a virgin?"
I looked over at him, sitting at the kitchen table and anxiously
awaiting my reply.
What was I to say to him; No, I'm still a sniveling cherry?
I couldn't say anything. I couldn't lie to my buddy and I didn't
want to tell him the embarrassing truth.
"What happened? Did you get some pussy or not?"
I didn't say a word. I set the bottle down and walked over to
him, taking my middle finger and placing it under his nose. "What
do YOU think?" I asked him.
Mike sniffed and smiled and then stood up and slapped me on the
back.
"Hell, yes!" he said.
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