|
Marie (m/f, f/f, cons/nc, ins), Part 12
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.
MARIE12
If you read MARIE1 (or MARIE2, etc.) you know what to expect and if
such things offend you for any reason, this is a good time to erase the
file. This is based on interviews with a woman recounting almost a
quarter-century of sexual experiences and she's not an old woman;
you figure it out.
Some names and a few locations have been changed and some
editing has been done for the sake of smoothness. Other than that,
this is what she had to say, based on her recollections and the
extensive and detailed diaries she's been keeping for many years.
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 Lane's." The drug store's area was dark and
empty.
As soon as the microbus was stopped, I stood and untied the knot
I'd made of the shirttails. Then I unbuttoned the last three buttons. I
held my arms wide, so the shirt was open.
Gary and Gerry stared, their mouths literally gaping. "Big enough?"
"Holy shit," Gary said, but he drew it out to about six syllables.
I stepped forward, in between the custom swiveling, reclining
bucket seats installed by these two sons of a gas station-owner. Their
heads were almost level with mine. I cupped a hand under each tit and
said, "Want a taste?"
Gary seemed frozen, but Gerry wasted no time. He leaned forward and
began running his tongue around my nipple. It got hard, fast. Then he
fastened his lips over it and started sucking it while whipping his
tongue back and forth across the nozzle. My knees almost buckled, so
powerful was the sudden surge of desire that washed through me.
Then Gary got into the act. He put one arm around my waist and
nuzzled the other tit. Gerry brought his hand up my leg, then caressed
my thighs higher and higher, until his hand was under the microskirt and
he was lightly rubbing my Tricot-clad cunt with his knuckles.
"Wet already," he mumbled around my nipple.
"Show 'em to me," I said. Both had been rubbing their crotches and
neither needed elucidation. There was some fumbling and shifting and
then two large, extremely hard 19-year-old cocks were pulsing in the dim
illumination. Gary's hand went to the hem of my microskirt and he peeled
it upward. Gerry began pulling my panties off. I did a two-step so he
could get them off my ankles, and then I was virtually naked to the
horny twins. The shirt was no obstacle at all and my microskirt was now
a thin band of fabric hanging about my waist as they fondled my barely
furred cunt and suckled at my tits. I was close to cumming already.
Terry was snoring.
"Now," I said, "Who would like to fuck me?"
"Me!" "Me!" they chorused.
"And who wants me to suck him?"
"Me!" "Me!" they chorused, again.
Gerry stopped nursing at my nipple long enough to look up at me and
say, "Why not both?"
Why not, indeed. I said nothing and unclipped the microskirt. Now
it was just me in my shirt. Gary turned his seat and guided me back till
I was sitting on his lap. I was so wet that he slid in easily, if
slowly. His dick was about eight inches long and a rather thick, and I
was still very tight. But I was wet, determined and unbelievably horny.
"You're so hot inside!" he gasped as I settled down on him. I
couldn't answer right away because I was cumming, hard.
Gerry, meanwhile, stood and offered me his cock at face level. I
put my hands on his waist and pulled him forward and took just the knob
in my mouth and started sucking. Gary reached around to pinch my tits
and play with them and I started cumming again. I ground my butt down
into Gary's lap as I came and sucked Gerry in a little deeper, vacuuming
as hard as I could in my frenzy. I slid my hand over to grip the base of
his cock and squeezed and jerked hard on his shaft. I felt his hands
lightly resting on my head. As I came again and sucked all the harder,
he moaned and swelled and then he was cumming in my mouth.
There was a lot of it. He came and came and came, flooding my
mouth. I swallowed, but there was more and it was starting to bloat my
cheeks. Some of it got out of my mouth and dribbled down my chin and his
cock. I kept sucking.
Then Gary groaned. He slid his hands down to my hips and jammed me
down onto his cock and bucked up at me, swelling inside me and then I
felt his cock lurch and fire. He came as much as his twin, and when
Gerry finally stopped trying to drown me, Gary kept flooding me. My cunt
was filled with his swelling meat, so there was no place for the jism to
go but down and out and it was bathing his thighs.
And I kept cumming.
Finally, even Gerry and Gary were spent. I still shook with
pleasure and would have fallen forward, but Gerry caught me and dropped
to his knees to take me in his arms while I sat, still impaled, on his
twin's softening but still impressive cock.
The sad thing was that, as pleasurable as it was, my enjoyment was
tempered by my desire for revenge on Terry. Oh, sure, I spent a lot of
time fucking like crazy to get even with Dan and prove to myself that he
was the one who'd missed out with his damn holier-than-thou attitude,
but that was different; I never expected Dan to know about it. Besides,
he was in New York fucking City, which might as well have been on the
other side of the damn galaxy; Terry was laying five feet from my
quivering ankles, snoring slightly in his beery splendor, while I let
his brothers use me as a toy for their pleasures.
Use me is just what they did, too -- because I encouraged them.
When Gerry helped me stand -- and his brother's dick came out with a
spermy plop! -- I lurched forward and buried his face in my tits. Well,
not exactly "buried," since they weren't really all that big, except
compared to the rest of me. But he did what he could to make me feel I'd
buried him, slurping and licking and turning his face rapidly from one
side to the other to cover the inner slopes with kisses and licks and
saliva, making me even hornier with his infectious enthusiasm.
After a few minutes of this, my motor was running, so to speak, and
I dropped into a crouch and began licking and otherwise encouraging
Gerry's dick to more quickly regain its stiffness. He didn't need one
hell of a lot of help.
The passenger-side seat they'd installed reclined almost completely
and Gerry moved some lever that caused it to do exactly that -- recline
almost fully. I climbed up and after some clumsy shifting, lowered my
again-aching pussy onto his stiff dick -- with my back to him. I gripped
his legs just above the knees -- for balance -- and slowly eased him
into me. He was as big and thick and hard as his brother had been, but
the way was eased not only by my additional juices, but also by the load
Gary had deposited. I leaned farther forward, reaching down to clasp his
ankles and pressing my nipples -- which were as stiff as could be --
into his lower thighs and let his hands guide my tiny hips up and down.
In that position, it felt like a horse was fucking me. Every time
he pushed me down on him, the head of his cock bottomed out in me and I
gave a little gasp. It hurt, a little, and it felt incredibly good. I
came two or three times, and Gerry was humping up at me, too. His
motions slid his trim, hard ass farther and farther down the reclining
chair till abruptly, I had to sit up, because his feet were flat on the
floor and his knees were bent.
The problem, however, was that by then, I was cumming so much that
I really didn't have the strength to support myself.
That problem was trivial. For there, standing in front of me with
proudly resurrected dick, was Gary -- waiting for his blowjob. He didn't
have to wait long. His cock was gorgeous there in the dim illumination
of Lane's Drugs's night lights in the Great Eastern shopping center.
Gorgeous. Well, it seemed gorgeous then, just challenging me to suck it,
demanding that I take it into my mouth. I gulped it halfway in with one
stroke. His hands went to the sides of my head and he guided my mouth
back and forth as he fucked his cock in and out of my mouth.
Gerry, meantime, was bucking furiously and I was riding him faster
and more energetically. His dick popped loose a couple of times, sliding
up my belly and rubbing my clit in the process. All but once, it quickly
sank into me again.
The once was notable. That time, it lodged between my buttocks --
which were clenched pretty tight from my orgasms -- and snagged on my
butthole.
"No! Don't!"
His hands on my hips, though, pushed me down. His dick was triply
slippery -- from my juices, his brother's load and his own seepage. The
glans stretched me wildly and then was inside and I was shocked: It
didn't really hurt. I sank down slowly, slowly, while he gasped about
how tight and hot it was. The temperature, I couldn't verify; the
tightness I was sure of, because it felt to me like I was sitting on a
ball bat.
Then I felt his pubic hair against my ass, and I knew I had the
full length of him sheathed in my rectum. I felt like was taking the
world's biggest shit. It felt strange and it felt wonderful and it
scared me. Then he twitched inside me and I moaned. His hands stayed on
my hips as I splayed my legs carefully outside his and draped them down
while I settled back and reclined upon the nineteen-year-old sodomizing
me. His hands slid up to my tits and he began playing with my breasts --
especially my nipples. I moaned again and then shuddered.
My pussy was empty and my ass burned slightly from the stretching,
but I had cum. A little one, to be sure, but an orgasm no less. I slid
one hand down to grip the edge of the reclining seat for stability and
the other down to play with my clit and pussy.
This all had left Gary standing there with my saliva cooling on his
rampant dick. He wasted little time, though. Gary bent at the knees,
found his alignment, and before I could cover my cunt he drove his prick
into me.
All three of us groaned at that. Each of them moaned about feeling
the other pressed against him in the adjoining channel; I moaned
incoherently.
[Yes! It does turn me on to remember it! So they're hard? So what?]
I'd been sandwiched before, and I'd been younger at the time, but
I'd never been filled like this before. This was sheer, hedonistic,
sensual pleasure. I gave myself over to it. I would have wrapped one or
both legs around Gary's waist to keep him close, but I had no strength
anywhere but where they filled me. Gary did most of the work; in his
position, Gerry could do little but occasionally buck up to keep his
cock lock in my ass. But Gary was energetic as hell.
Gary rocked me, again and again, with short thrusts that made up in
urgency what they lacked in length. I was sure they were going to
rupture me with their hard, nineteen-year-old pricks, and I didn't care.
I was cumming and cumming, and not sure if it was starting in my cunt,
my ass or my clit or my nipples. I couldn't stop cumming. I didn't want
to stop cumming.
But then both cocks were swelling in me and both were groaning
rather loudly and then I felt both of them twitch as they ground
themselves in me and poured all their juices and excitement and
horniness into me.
My horny, amoral body drank it all up and clutched for more --
milked for more.
Terry still snored in the back.
We disengaged, moving as quickly as possible to prevent soiling
their precious Microbus with our drippings...though I thought of it more
as anointing the van with our juices. Whatever. And then it got ugly.
I'd just finished pulling my clothing together when Gerry reached
past me and slid back the side door. "Out."
"What?"
"Get out."
"Yeah," Gary added, poetically.
"But aren't you going to give me a ride home?"
"Doesn't look like it."
"No," Gary said, literately.
"But -- "
"You think we'll give a slut a ride?" Gerry demanded.
I started to get mad. "What did you call me?"
"A slut," Gerry said.
"Yeah," Gary added. "Fuck both a guy's brothers while he's passed
out at her feet."
"We gotta watch out for our kid brother."
"I didn't see either of you protesting," I said, dancing down out
of the Microbus to the dirty asphalt. I reached in an snatched my tote
bad with my Mom-approved clothes in it. "Let me ask you something, if
you've got the guts to answer."
Gerry spit theatrically on the asphalt. "Yeah?"
"If a slut is a woman who'd fuck a guy's brothers while he's passed
out at her feet, what would you call his brothers -- men of honor?"
I slammed the door shut myself. They laid about two thousand miles
worth of rubber -- intending to impress me, I suppose -- as they popped
the clutch and left. One of them yelled back in the night, "You're
nothin' but a hoo-er!"
"Whore," I said aloud to myself in the emptiness of the shopping
center parking lot. "The word is `whore.'" And I wondered if maybe he
wasn't right. I done them to get even with Terry for betraying my trust
and lying about his solemn vow. What was a whore but a woman who fucks
for personal gain. On the other hand, I knew of a few -- more than a few
-- women who'd chosen to fuck only one man, the best breadwinner they
could get, for a piece of gold...in the form of a wedding band and
promise of security.
At the time, I found it all too confusing to deal with; I had to
get home and home was a hell of a distance yet. I started walking.
I was beginning to think I was snakebitten. The three most
important men I'd known had all ended up hurting or rejecting me, and
usually with good cause. My phantom step-brother had rejected me in
favor of an underdeveloped twelve-year-old and my (formerly) best
friend. I had caused Ty grief and he'd had to reject me. And now, Terry.
I checked my change purse and when I got to the Esso station, I
called a car service and yes, I had enough to get from there to my the
corner of the block where my family lived. The service car showed up --
a battered '62 Chevy wagon -- and the driver looked me up and down.
"You?" He was a middle-aged African-American. I nodded. "You okay?"
I nodded again. He shrugged. "Okay, let's get you home, child." Then he
shook his head. "Well-growed child."
When I let myself in the house and got to my room, my baby sister
was waiting for me in my bed. "You okay?" After I reassured her, she
told me Mom had waited for me till almost one -- it was a little after
three -- and was really pissed. She suspected it was at least halfway
because Dad was really pissed. He'd gotten a letter from my phantom
step-brother, who'd just graduated from high school. Dan wasn't coming
to visit this summer. He had a good summer job that he had to start
right away. He was sorry, but he had to have the money, because he
started college in the autumn and the two scholarships combined wouldn't
cover the costs. Dad had really been looking forward to the visit. And,
though I hadn't known it till that moment, so had I.
But in a way, it was just as well. I had no distractions that
summer, nothing to take my mind off my own interests, and I learned a
lot about myself. When anyone asked me about Terry, I told them it was a
rumor. I told a few that he and I had enjoyed a one-night stand and a
bad date and That Was That. If anyone asked about the other rumor --
about me doing both his older brothers at once -- I got all hot under
the collar and pissed and bitchy, and if they persisted, I told them I
could sure have my step-brother dispel their illusions. Enough had
leaked out about that incident on the front porch that nobody wanted Dan
coming around and asking them anything. No way.
But the truth was that I suspected I was poison to any kind of
serious relationship.
[I know, but, hey -- I was thirteen! Give me a break!]
And I suspected that I was always going to be Doormat side of the
male view of the world: All women are either Goddesses or Doormats.
By the end of that summer, I had withdrawn almost completely into
myself. I'd had plenty of practice at that, intensive practice after my
first time --
[Okay; I promise -- but later, okay?]
When school started, a few newcomers made attempts to be friendly
with me, but I was essentially asexual. I became a creature of the mind,
of intellect, reveling in the literature I read, the poems I
encountered, even betraying a talent for the rigorous disciplines --
which I always regarded as a game -- of Geometry. I was blessed with
three teachers who loved the idea of opening a mind to the possibilities
inherent in a particular curriculum: Geometry, English and History. I
actually won honors for my mind.
But as the spring of my sophomore year crawled toward summer,
things were happening. I suddenly realized that I had gone more than
five months without being touched -- aside from playing Yellow Pages
with my sister, more for her relief than my own -- and I was winning
recognition for what I could do with my brain, rather than the shape of
my body.
And I realized I had suddenly begun developing, with a vengeance,
in a way that made all previous spurts seem picayune by comparison.
But that early summer, in '69, a couple of things came together.
One of them was discovering that my phantom step-brother could screw up.
Another was that I became a cheesecake photo in the city newspaper.
That was the summer that I realized how I had grown. Make that
Grown, with a capital G. I was surprised -- I, who had always tracked
and recorded my measurements to the eighth of an inch -- to find that I
needed a 34 d-cup bra, that my hips were finally flaring in balance
(relatively) to 27 inches and my waist had ballooned to a whopping 20
inches. Tubb-o, I thought! But I was also all the way up to four-foot-
ten-inches, and looked more like a petite young woman than a little kid
with outrageous tits. Yes, that was a summer of major changes.
And that was the summer I was scouted by a men's magazine.
[more]
[Want more? Post a message on the board where you read this and ask
to see MARIE13.ZIP. No messages, no MARIE13.ZIP; that's not so much
to ask, is it?]
|
|
