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WARNING ... This story contains graphic descriptions of sex among
adults, pre-teens, & children, between adults, pre-teens, & children.  If you
find this offensive stop reading now.
 
This story is entirely fictional and any similarity between persons
and events depicted in it and actual persons and events is purely
coincidental.  The story is pure fantasy and none of the events
described herein are practiced, advocated or condoned by the author.

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Archive-name: Young/marie.txt
Archive-author: Friar Dave
Archive-title: Marie


CHAPTER ONE 
     I was living in Toledo, on the East Side. There was Dad, Mom,  my two 
sisters and my two younger brothers. It was a big old house,  with brown 
shingle siding and a little yard. I was -- let's see...  ten, by a couple of 
months. It was late May. My birthday is in  August.
     I was always sensual -- and I don't mean "sexual." I enjoyed  sensual 
pleasures: the taste of ice cold pop, the smell of fresh- cut rhubarb, the 
shock of fresh snow rubbed on my face, the heat of  the good sun baking into 
me. I could lay for hours simply rubbing  the satin edging on a blanket or 
close my eyes and nearly faint  from the ripe smell of popping corn.
     Anyhow, I was ten-and-a-half and finishing the sixth grade at  St. 
Cornelius school. We didn't have much money, but Mom clipped  coupons and Dad 
worked an extra night job so all of us could go to  Catholic school. 
     I was a fair student -- I hated to study -- and did alright.  But in the 
spring of my sixth-grade year, two things happened.
     For one, I discovered I could write. It was an accident --  serendipity 
is what my phantom stepbrother would have called it --  because I wrote a 
composition on assignment. It was about  springtime. And I had a teacher, 
Sister Jannera, who talked to me  about it. She recognized that I had a talent
for words and she took  it upon herself to encourage this. I can't completely 
convey what a  remarkable thing it was. For one thing, I was only 
ten-and-change;  for another, I was a girl. This was 1965 in a blue collar 
section  of a so-called city not known for its sophistication and she was  
teaching in a Catholic school -- a bastion of conservatism. For her  to 
recognize my talent and then encourage it was amazing; no other  word is 
really appropriate.
     [My phantom stepbrother? Oh, okay. Mom was Dad's second wife.  His first 
had left him -- I think he drove her away -- about six  years before. My 
stepbrother, Dan, was -- is, really -- five years  older than me. He's not 
just smart; he's scary smart. He -- Oh,  never mind. He's also very sweet and 
sexy. And inhibited,  unfortunately. Anyhow, he used to visit about once a 
year, from New  York, where he lived with his mom.]
     The second thing that happened was -- Well, you may have  noticed I have 
these tits, hahaha! I started, shall we say,  "developing," when I was ten -- 
Anyhow, I wasn't much past ten. By  May of that year, I had noticeable tits, 
noticeable even dressed in  my white starched St. Cornelius blouse and plaid 
skirt. As a  shorter than average sixth grader with a "cute" -- I hated that  
word even then -- round little face, they seemed bigger than they  were.
     Oh, sure, I'd asked about a bra -- at the dinner table, like a  dope. Dad
laughed and said that with a bra, I'd look like I'd been  bitten by two 
mosquitoes. Sweet, eh? But by May, I had gen-u-wine  little tits, not just 
mounds of baby fat. I remember using the  Sears catalog as a guide to take my 
measurements. Sears decreed  that I needed a 25-A cup at ten-and-change. Of 
course, there was no  such thing as a 25-A bra, just those stupid -- and too 
small --  training bras. The rest of me hadn't developed yet, which made my  
boobs more noticeable, since I had a nineteen-inch waist and  twenty-four-inch
hips.
     So, anyhow, every summer, the church held this carnival --  lots of games
of chance and, of course, bingo -- as a fundraiser  and there was -- 
     [What? Oh, yeah, that's significant because that's when I  started 
keeping a diary. A journal, as my phantom stepbrother would  put it.]
     Segue to summer. All during the last weeks of school and the  first weeks
of summer, the more 'advanced' boys had been trying to  get close to me -- or,
more precisely, my tits. So here it was,  late July and the preteen training 
bra -- the only thing I could  get that was small enough for my bust 
measurement -- was just a  little tight in the elastic for me, especially in 
casual garb. If  you recall, cutoff tee-shirts had become popular in the 
summer of  '65. That's significant.
     The carnival was only four streets away, but Dad and Mom spent  a lot of 
time there. Dad was an electrician and Mom was a great  little organizer and 
the two of them were always over at the  church. Everyone said they were 
terrific. Of course, no one thought  to ask them about the kids -- 
     [Yeah, it is kind of a cheap shot. There's a reason.]
     Anyhow, it was the Thursday before Memorial Day. Back then, we  didn't 
have these arranged three-day weekends, Memorial Day fell on  Saturday, so 
everyone got beat on the holiday. I couldn't get too  annoyed, though. We were
in final exams and when you finished your  exam, you were cut loose for the 
day. I finished my last exam at a  quarter past eleven on Thursday morning, 
and after that, I was free  to enjoy the sudden, midsummer-like heat wave that
had hit Toledo. 
     As soon as I got home, I changed into my two-piece suit and a  cutoff 
tee-shirt. I pulled on a pair of loose white shorts and  slipped into my 
sandals, grabbed my Coppertone, then went down the  block to Lisa's house. We 
were best friends, even though she went  to Rossford Public. She was already 
finished with school for the  summer.  Lisa had a big ol' Coleco above-ground 
pool in the back  yard, out behind and to one side of the garage. 
 
     [The tee-shirt? I couldn't wear the halter for my suit in  public; it was
too small. It was this little bit of stretch fabric  and I would have looked 
like an advertisement for baby sex.  Besides, it cut into me and hurt. It's 
not like I had really big  tits or anything -- not like later -- but on top of
my little-girl  waist and little-girl hips, even the little boobies I had were
 really noticeable. They seemed bigger than they really were.
     [Look, these days it's not that unusual for a girl to start  budding when
she's ten years old. In 1965, it was pretty rare and  no bathing suit company 
provided for it, because people wouldn't  buy them -- they couldn't admit that
their little honey-pies might  be growing full-size tits that young. And think
about this: If they  wouldn't admit to themselves what they could see with 
their own  eyes, how well do you think they dealt with explaining the facts of
 life to a ten-year-old, let alone talking about love, commitment,  birth 
control or venereal disease? So in '65, when you grew tits at  ten, you 
learned the unpleasant way -- usually, from grubby- fingered assholes who just
wanted to squeeze a boob. Okay?]
     When I got to Lisa's house, Brenda -- her older sister -- was  just on 
her way out. Brenda was sixteen and had this terrific  figure and was real 
pretty and boys were always after her. She was  going to the marina where 
someone was taking her out on a boat for  a ride on the Maumee.
     Anyhow, Brenda told me Lisa had gone with her mom to the new  mall, over 
on Woodville Road, but I was welcome to hang out and  swim. She left and I 
took her up on the offer. I figured the place  was empty, since Jerry -- he 
was thirteen then -- had a route  delivering the Toledo Blade in the 
afternoons.
     I raided their fridge for a beer. Yeah, a beer at the age of  ten. I'd 
had sips and even a half a small glass at cookouts at  home, but I was feeling
a bit flaky and adventurous, so I took the  churchkey and popped a can of 
Blatz. Then I changed and went out  back. I was going to get wet and then lay 
on the picnic table near  the bushes and start my tan. I'm a lot darker than 
any of my  brothers or sisters and I tan well. Besides, I liked just laying  
there and letting the sun soak into me.
     But the bathing suit top was still tight on me and just before  I went 
out, I took it off. There was a girl in the seventh grade  who already had 
real big boobs and her life was miserable. The  girls didn't trust her, the 
boys her own age always giggled and  older boys were always grabbing her. I 
remember hoping mine weren't  going to grow like that.
     Wearing just the cutoff tee-shirt and the bottoms, I went out.  I slipped
into the pool. I knew the tee-shirt would be plastered to  me, but with the 
tall bushes all around the yard, I figured there  was no one to stare. I 
bobbed around in the pool for a few minutes,  then got out and lay on a towel 
on the picnic table. I rolled up  the bottom of the tee-shirt till my tits 
were almost showing and  then just lay there, enjoying the sun's weight. Every
now and then  I took a draw on the beer and eventually emptied it.
     After a while, I rolled onto my belly. The towel bunched up a  bit 
between my thighs, but I was feeling too lethargic to do  anything about it. 
Besides, one of the folds was right under my  little pussy and the pressure on
my clit felt nice and tingly. 
     Anyhow, I looked around: No one in sight. I pulled off my tee- shirt and 
lay flat. The sun was so heavy on me that I dozed off. I  don't know how long 
I slept.
     Suddenly, my eyes were open. What had awakened me? I figure it  was the 
sound of Jerry putting his bike in the garage, because he  was striding toward
the back steps. He was wearing sneakers, cutoff  jean shorts and nothing else,
if you don't count the newspaper bag  and the rubber pad for his shoulder, 
where the strap rested.
     I don't know what possessed me. Probably it was a 12-ounce can  of beer 
in a sixty-two-pound body that had been baking in the sun  for too long.
     "Hi, Jerry."
     He froze in midstep, turned and spotted me. 
     Jerry was 13 and really had a nice build, all lean and with  his belly 
like a washboard and he was cute. He had lots of curly  dark hair -- all 
plastered down by sweat, at that moment -- and his  jeans were real tight. I 
mean, you could practically see his ...  stuff through them.
     He looked at me, blinked and stared -- and his jeans got  snugger.
     I liked the way they got tighter. "Would you do me a favor?"
     "Sure, Marie."
     "C'mere."
     He shifted the carrier bag around so it hid the good stuff. I  was 
already feeling a definite urge, though, and hiding his crotch  only left more
to the imagination.
     He stopped about three steps from me, standing slightly behind  me. 
Didn't matter; I knew what he was looking at.
     "Would you mind putting some lotion on my back?" I folded my  arms and 
rested my face on my forearms. I knew that folding my arms  revealed the sides
of my little tits to him and I knew he was  staring at them.
     I heard the carrier bag hit the grass and then I heard the cap  coming 
off the Coppertone. The bottle had been in the hot sun and  the oil was warm 
and sensuous. He poured some right in the middle  of my back, between my 
shoulder blades. He rubbed it around in  about a two-inch circle. Shy.
     ""More? PLease?"
     "...sure."
     Slowly, the circle widened. I raised myself slightly to rest  on my 
elbows, momentarily revealing most of my tits to anyone who  was paying 
attention. And he was paying attention, because the  spreading of lotion 
hesitated, then became erratic. I let myself  back down flat on the towel.
     "Lower please?"
     By now, his hands were wandering closer to my sides. He froze  for a 
moment, then more oil hit my back and he started working it  lower, into the 
small of my back and down to the beginning swells  of my little butt. I 
reached back with both hands and rolled the  top of my suit bottom down about 
half-way, maybe less.
     I could hear his breathing as he lightly rubbed the oil on the  upper 
slopes of my ass. I flexed my butt a little and his breathing  got heavier.
     "That feels so good and I feel so lazy ...." I parted my legs  slightly. 
"Would you mind doing my legs. I can reach them, but your  hands feel so good 
-- "
     " ... sure."
     He started at my ankles and worked his way up my legs. I have  good legs 
and always have. He was enjoying kneading the taut  muscles and I was enjoying
the manipulation. I let my legs part  more when he reached my knees and the 
higher his hands went on the  insides of my thighs, the better I liked it and 
the more my legs  opened. Part of what I let me like what was happening was 
that he  was a little intimidated by it, I was the leader and the agressor,  
so I was in control. This was new and I liked it.
     And then he was massaging the lotion into the smooth flesh  adjacent to 
the crotch of my suit ... and his fingers began to  brush my now-soaked slit 
through the material. I hummed tunelessly  and pushed up and back a little. He
took the encouragement and  worked one finger under the edge of my snug suit 
and began rubbing  my cunt lips. It felt great. I raised my butt a little, but
he  didn't know what I was seeking.
     "Mmmmmm -- hold your finger right there for a minute," I said.  He froze,
undoubtedly afraid I was going to stop him. Wrong-o,  Jerry.
     I pressed my cunny down so my clit was rubbed against his  finger. I 
gasped, "Right -- there -- is the -- place -- okay?"
     He started rubbing my swollen little clittie and it wasn't  more than 
thirty seconds before I was groaning and my hips were  moving. Another thirty 
seconds and I was clenched in a tight little  orgasm. I shook for a moment, 
then relaxed back onto the towel. My  hips were still moving and his finger 
had lost its place. Now he  was probing my cunt lips, trying to find the 
opening.
     "Wait, wait, wait," I said soothingly. I reached blindly  behind me and 
felt his hard belly, then trailed my hand down to  catch the waistband of his 
cutoffs in my fingers. "C'mere." I led  him around to stand beside the pool 
table and turned my head to  face him. The bulge in his cutoffs was 
impressive. I ran my hand  down to it and pressed it through the denim. He 
sucked in a breath.
     "I liked that," I said. "Did you like it?"
     "Oh, yeah!"
     "Do you jerk off?"
     "... I guess."
     "You're not sure?"
     He blushed madly. "Well, sure."
     "What do you think about when you jerk off?"
     I was rubbing my hand back and forth over that promising  bulge.
     "You know -- doing it."
     "With whom?"
     "Girls."
     "Any particular girls?" I rubbed a little faster.
     "Not really." He was lying.
     "What do they look like?"
     "Y'know -- all grown up."
     "With big tits."
     "Yeah."
     I rolled onto my side. He stared at my tits. I sat up, fought  off a 
moment of wooziness caused by the heat of the sun, the heat  in my crotch and 
the single beer. His eyes followed my tits, drawn  to them as if they were 
magnets. I brought my other hand over and  unsnapped the waist of his jeans. I
tugged the zipper down and then  pushed his shorts down. He was bare 
underneath them. His cock came  out, so stiff it was almost bouncing off his 
belly. It was a nice  13-year-old's cock, about five or six inches long and 
average  thick. He had some nice soft hair around the base of it and his  
balls looked hard and tight. I gripped his dick lightly -- the  first time I 
ever touched a hard, naked penis; I felt a little  sizzle of excitement run 
through me -- and began sliding my hand on  it. His knees began to tremble.
     "Bigger tits than mine, huh?" 
     "You have real nice tits for a kid -- " he blurted. "I've been  watching 
-- "
     He suddenly realized what he was saying and clamped his mouth  shut.
     "So you've been watching me, huh? Looking at my tits, huh?"
     He nodded. I skinned my hand up and down his cock quickly a  couple of 
times, then stopped and wriggled out of my bottoms. I sat  naked in the sun on
the picnic table in front of him.
     "Would you like me to jerk you off?" I asked, again gripping  his dick. 
"Would you like to touch my tits and my cunt again?"      He nodded.
     "Then I want you to do something for me." I stood on the grass  beside 
him. He was much taller than me. He smelled of sweat and  Coppertone and 
excitement.
     "Anything!'
     "I want you to kiss my pussy -- right where you were rubbing  with your 
finger."
     "You mean -- with my mouth? Down there?" He sounded dubious.
     I nodded. "Lay down on the picnic table and you kiss me down  there while
I jerk you off."
     "I dunno," he said. "I can jerk myself off."
     "So can I, but I can't lick my own pussy."
     "And I can't suck my own dick..." That sudden boldness  surprised me, but
not enough to put me off. His hands were  wandering over my tits. He was 
surprisingly gentle after the first  careful squeezes -- testing their 
firmness -- and his caresses were  exciting me even more. When he began 
playing with my nipples I  decided.
     "Alright," I said. "I'll suck you and you suck me."
     He nodded and stepped out of his cutoffs, then climbed on the  picnic 
table and lay back on the towel. His dick throbbed furiously  in the sunlight 
as I climbed over him, facing his feet. I straddled  his chest with my knees 
and back up. He was so much bigger than I  that my legs were quite wide open. 
I felt his hot breath on my  mound and stretched forward till his dick was 
touching my mouth.
     He began to kiss and lick my cunt and I gasped and opened my  mouth. He 
hunched his hips up and about half his hard teenage dick  was in my mouth. I 
closed my lips around his dick as he closed his  hands around my little butt 
and then I closed my eyes and sucked  for oil. I didn't know -- then -- all 
the little movements that  make a good cocksucker, but this kid didn't notice.
I put my hands  on his hips to moderate the thrashing of his fucking movements
and  sucked and pulled with my lips. I knew it was going to be about  twenty 
seconds before he came.
     Even so, I started cumming first. He didn't know anything  about cunt 
licking, but he knew how I responded the first time his  tongue brushed my 
clit and he knew I sucked harder when he did  that, so he got a liplock on the
little bud and went to town,  trilling his tongue tip over it as fast as he 
could. 
     I started cumming and didn't stop, not even when he worked one  finger 
into my cunt. I felt a little tension and a moment of  discomfort, nothing 
more, and I was distantly surprised it hadn't  hurt more. But since I was on 
top and I wasn't being controlled or  forced or anything -- well, it really 
didn't bother me. On the  contrary -- my pussy grabbed that finger and 
squeezed it. I came  then as I cum now: clenched and almost frozen, bucking 
toward the  source of pleasure -- in this case, his lips and tongue and finger
     The combination of that finger-fucking and his prolonged  arousal along 
with my desperate sucking sent him over the edge. His  hips jerked, driving 
half his dick into my mouth, and then he was  cumming. I hadn't planned to 
swallow, but there was no escape  before he started to flow and I swallowed by
reflex and then the  deed was done, so I kept at it. His semen was so thick!
     I was sucking and cumming and he was licking and cumming and  both of us 
were moaning and cumming. I kept swallowing -- it was  swallow or drown -- and
he kept cumming, more than I'd suspected  was possible. When he finally 
stopped spurting, I sucked as hard as  I could and from somewhere in his 
teenage balls summoned forth a  last gob of sperm. He groaned and his hands 
fell away from my butt  as I released his spent -- but still half-hard -- dick
from my  spermy lips. 
     I lay sprawled on him in the hot sun for a few minutes, my  pussy backed 
against the underside his chin and my hips slowly,  languidly revolving. His 
dick stayed half-hard against the side of  my face.
     Finally I climbed off him and got down to the grass. It felt  crinkly and
warm between my toes. I was still tingling. 
     He sat up slowly, as if exhausted. His face was slick with my  juices, as
were the insides of my thighs. I gathered my stuff --  and the empty Blatz can
-- and turned to him. He was climbing down  from the table. "I need to clean 
up, Jerry. Can I use the shower in  the basement?" I knew about it because 
when I stayed over with his  sister, we frequently sat up in their basement 
recreation room --  such as it was -- as late as we could get away with.
     He nodded. "Sure. You know where everything is?"
     I reached out and gently stroked his half-hard dick a couple  of times. 
"I do now." His prick began hardening again. Thirteen.
     He took his shorts and stuffed them in his delivery bag and we  scurried 
into the house. I headed down the basement stairs for the  shower. I heard him
climbing the stairs to the second floor, to his  room. I knew there was a full
bathroom up there and figured he'd  use that one and I'd use the one 
downstairs and that would be that.
     I figured wrong.
 
 
CHAPTER TWO
 
     The basement was divided into three sections. The main part of  it was 
sort of a rec room, with an old sofa and some old armchairs  and an old TV and
stereo, et cetera. Off to one side was the  laundry room, which contained 
pretty much what you might expect in  a laundry. In the corner of the laundry 
room was the cinderblock  shower stall. I grabbed the soap, turned on the 
overhead light --  it was set up so you couldn't reach the switch from inside 
the  stall -- checked the floor of the shower for nasty little  multileggers 
and stepped in for my shower. I adjusted the spray so  it was like needles 
pounding down on me, hot and sharp. I stepped  right into the middle of it and
closed my eyes and just savored the  feel of the water sluicing over my flesh.
I damn near came again  just from the sheer, sensual pleasure of it.

     After a while I stepped out from under the spray long enough  to pour 
some K mart baby shampoo directly onto my head. I worked it  into a thick 
lather in my thick, dark hair, then stepped back into  the spray and let the 
water pound the soap out. Then I stepped out  of the spay again and grabbed 
the big, industrial size bar of Ivory  from the soap dish. I worked it into a 
thick lather all over my  skin and savored the slick firmness of my own body. 
I tried to grab  my nipples, but the soap made my fingers slip off them -- and
I did  it over and over again, simply because it felt so good. Naturally,  one
thing led to another. 

     In moments, I was leaning back against the wall with the spray  adjusted 
to hit my pussy. I had my legs open and used my fingers to  spread my pussy 
lips. The spray hit my clitoris and I shuddered and  shook. I was so close to 
cumming, it was almost unbearable. I  finally slipped one finger inside my 
pussy. It was just the  slightest bit uncomfortable -- but the good feeling 
more than made  up for that. I was right on the verge of cumming when the 
curtain  was pulled back.      Jerry.

     "Can I finish that for you?"

     I practically dragged him into the shower. He got on his knees  and 
kissed my tits and sucked my nipples. The hot water was  pounding both of us. 
He probed my pussy with one finger and it felt  awfully good.

     But not good enough.

     I pulled his head away from my breasts and stood straight. I  reached for
a towel as I stepped out of the stall. My other hand  was tugging his to 
follow me.

     He didn't need a lot of encouragement.

     We barely made it into the recreation room. I dropped to my  knees and 
sucked the head of his hard dick into my mouth. I kept my  hands on his lean 
thirteen-year-old hips to restrain his natural  impulse to jam the whole thing
into my throat and after a minute or  so of that, I kind of pulled him down 
next to me and urged him to  lay back on the towel. 

     I straddled his hips and trapped his cock between his belly  and my cunt 
lips. I stroked along it a few times, more for my  pleasure than his. The 
underside of his dick, turned upward,  dragged over my swollen little clittie.
He pulled me down so my  face was against his neck and my tits were scrunched 
against his  lower chest, I reached around behind my little butt and held his 
steel-stiff cock steady while I slithered backward. 

     Both of our bodies were wet from the shower and it was hot and  sweaty in
that little recreation room, so we slid against each  other. I felt his dick's
head pressing into the furrow of my cunt  lips. As soon as it was settled in 
place, he hunched his hips up  and began pushing it into me.

     His cock wasn't very thick, but I was only ten-and-a-half and  wet as I 
was, it was still a tight fit. It went in slowly, very  slowly, bit by bit. My
little cunt was so tight that if he hadn't  had all that teenaged rigidity and
enthusiasm, it never would have  gone in at all.

     But he did and it did.

     I loved it.

     Feeling his dick slide into me was like having an itch  scratched before 
you knew it was itchy. His prick was spreading and  opening me, filling a void
that somehow hadn't existed until it  entered. The cavity of my cunt was so 
narrow that I hadn't really  imagined it could be in need of this until it 
happened. I  certainly had never imagined it could feel so damn good.

     Jerry had little in the way of style. He just put his hands  over the 
hard little mounds of my ass and pressed down while his  hips rammed that 
stiff, throbbing young cock up, relentlessly up.      I was so little that my 
pussy lips were stretched tight and my  clitoris was fully exposed -- it might
have been anyhow, since it's  always been a bit prominent -- and the feeling 
of his dick invading  me and my clit being rubbed by my stretched cunt lips 
and...

     Well, it all rolled up together inside of me and I started  cumming. And 
I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. My pussy went into  spasms and all I could do 
was press down as hard as I could on him  and feel his cock sliding slowly 
into me, spreading and filling me.  I planted my mouth against his collar bone
to stifle my own screams  and just gave myself over to it.

     By the time he'd gotten his dick all the way into me -- and it  must have
taken a good five or six minutes -- I had already had  about a zillion 
orgasms. When he finally hit bottom and that scrawny  thatch of pubic hair was
pressing against my clit, I was totally  lost in my cumming.

     But when he started moving inside me, it was all over. I came  so hard 
and so long that I was afraid I was passing out. I might  have gone 
unconscious, in fact, but I wasn't aware of time or space  or place. All knew 
was the shattering, shredding pleasure ripping  through my little body. My 
pussy was tight to begin with, as you'd  expect of a near-virgin cunt, and 
even tighter, considering how  small and young I was. Add the clenching spasms
of my orgasms and-- 

     Well, it only took a couple of minutes of that and Jerry was  cumming, 
too. His dick swelled inside me and then he was throbbing  and jerking in 
there and groaning about how hot and tight I was and  how good it felt and we 
were cumming together. 

     Again, it seemed like he would never stop cumming, but when he  did and 
his dick shriveled and even my tight twat couldn't hold him  inside, enormous 
quantities of juice poured of me and drenched his  thighs and the towel 
beneath us.

     For a long time, we just lay there with me sprawled and  crushing across 
his hard young body. My hips kept jerking and  rolling as little aftershock 
orgasms rocked through me. We were  both still moaning and panting when we 
heard the car in the  driveway.

     I lifted my head and we stared into each other's eyes for a  moment. Then
the realization and panic hit us. We were like a pair  of wild mice, scurrying
and running. Jerry somehow stuffed himself,  all sweaty and drooling, into a 
pair of shorts from the clean  laundry and I ran back into the shower and 
started it running. By  the time Lisa and her Mom were in the house, I later 
learned, Jerry  was looking through the fridge and I was standing under the 
hot  shower, again trying to make my knees work as the water stung my  flesh. 
Their Mom told him to go take a shower before he did  anything else.

     That was great. In the twenty-five years since then, I've  only met a few
women who'd done it that young -- ten-and-a-half --  and none of the others 
enjoyed it. For most, it was an unpleasant  thing that was done TO them. I was
really lucky to have had so much  fun -- lucky and rare. Part of it was that I
had as much control  over what was happening as the guy, and that made a 
difference. But  I'd learned that it could be lovely and pleasurable -- oh so 
pleasurable! -- and that was a revelation.

     Anyhow, with the exams over for me and the carnival going on,  I was 
pretty much on my own and at loose ends for a couple of days.  Lisa's exams 
were still going on and there were all these other  things the public schools 
did, so I took advantage of it and Jerry  and I fucked away three afternoons 
of the next week. Then Lisa was  free and home too much -- I mean, she was my 
best friend, but I  wasn't about to confide to her that I was fucking her 
brother. She  was still a ten-year-old herself and would've said something to 
him, even if she didn't do it out of jealous spite for me. 

     Then we were well into June and Lisa's Mom's routine kept her  home most 
of the time. Jerry and I had less and less opportunity  for fooling around and
he got very interested in this girl his own  age. She had big hooters -- the 
kind he'd admitted fantasizing  about -- and I was forgotten. What he learned 
with me wasn't  forgotten, though. She benefited from his practice on me when 
it  came to cunnilingus. Or so I learned, later.

     In the meantime, another carnival was approaching -- the  town's, this 
time, rather than the church's -- and my civic-minded  Mom and Dad started 
spending most of their free time at that. It  was much the same story as with 
the church carnival. 

     [Sure, I'm a little bitter. I understand now -- I may have  understood 
then -- the importance of it. For Dad, it was contacts  for part-time work as 
an electrician. For Mom, it was social  contacts, widening the circle of 
acquaintances beyond the inbred  little crowd at the church and on the block. 
I understood some of  that; it didn't ease my resentment.]

     So I went to the carnival -- it was only four streets away --  and there 
was this really cute guy working one of the hot dog  stands. He was fourteen 
and even though he was cute, he wasn't  really popular because he had a 
reputation as a -- well, nowadays,  we'd call him a "nerd."  His name was 
Marty. It so happened that  Marty and I had a common interest: amateur radio. 
To me, it was  something mysterious and far away. To Marty it was very real 
and -- 

     [What fascinated me about it? The idea of being able to press  some 
buttons and throw switches and be able to talk with people in  far off and 
mysterious places. Okay?]

     Anyhow, he said he had a rig and I wanted to see it so he  invited me to 
come by his place after he finished his turn in the  booth and he'd show me 
the works. And I agreed. And he hardly ever  stared at my tits or anything 
like that, so I figured it was okay;  it being Saturday and all, his folks 
would be home.

     Well, his folks weren't home, just his brother, Phil. Phil was  nineteen 
and home from college. Their parents were over in Port  Clinton visiting 
someone. But Phil didn't seem interested in  anything except this ballgame on 
TV -- the Indians and the Tigers;  I remember it clearly -- and drinking beer.
He just grunted when we  came in, didn't even look at us.

     We went up to Marty's room, which was very tidy. I took that  as another 
good sign. His rig was set up on shelves against one  wall. He powered up and 
while we were waiting for the tubes to warm  up, he asked me about school and 
stuff like that. 

     When the rig was ready, he invited me to sit in the chair and  run the 
set. As he got up, I accidentally -- I think -- brushed his  arm with my 
breasts. His eyes widened and he stared at my chest as  if he'd just noticed 
it. I was all sweaty -- that room was hot up  there under the eaves in summer 
-- and where I'd brushed him, the  tee-shirt was soaked right to my bra. Which
wasn't concealing much,  because my tits were still growing and the bra was 
still much too  small. 

     [The bra? No, not for support -- not at that age! --but too  keep them 
from bouncing all over the place.]

     My nipples were getting hard -- visibly, right through the bra  and 
tee-shirt.

     I looked up at him -- he was about five-foot-seven and I was  still only 
four-foot-four -- and he said, simply, "Wow."

     Then he blushed and grinned like a nut and gestured for me to  sit. And I
realized I was enjoying the way he blushed and the way  he seemed a bit 
intimidated. I noticed the hard bulge in the front  of his shorts and I liked 
the fact that I had done that to him. 

     I sat down at the rig and followed his instructions, all the  time my 
nipples hard as rocks and the sweat pouring off me. I asked  if he had a fan 
or something and he said no, and he was sorry it  got so hot up there and 
peeled off his shirt. It was soaked, too.  He didn't have as nice a built on 
him as Jerry, but he was okay.

     "Well, that's not fair," I said. "If you can do that -- " And  I peeled 
off my shirt. It was a helluva lot cooler, not having that  hot cotton 
plastered to me and it was a helluva lot hotter, sitting  there with my 
breasts all shiny and swelling up around the sides  and top of that pathetic 
bra.

     He was staring at them. 

     "You don't mind, do you?" I asked.

     "They're beautiful," he said. "I never saw such big, beautiful  breasts 
on such a little girl..."

     It was sheer flattery, I thought, but: "Thank you."

     "Can I -- "

     "Touch?"

     "If."

     "If what?"

     "If you promise to be gentle and if I can touch, too."

     He frowned, obviously puzzled. So since I was obviously more  experienced
than he was at that stage, I put my hand over the  steel-hard bulge in his 
shorts.

     He jumped as if I'd burned him, blushed even more furiously  and then 
stepped forward. I squeezed the lump and he gasped.       "Take it out."

     He fumbled at the zipper and finally drew it down. The white  Jockey's 
underneath were strained by his 14-year-old's rigidity. I  unfastened the 
waist-snap of his shorts and then pulled the shorts  and the briefs to his 
knees. His dick sprang up and throbbed right  in my face. It was about six 
inches long and thoroughly average in  every way.  His balls were tight and 
firm in their wrinkled little  sack and looked so cute -- !

     I put my hand around his cock and squeezed again. The  throbbing doubled.
He groaned softly. 

     He said, "Now, your turn ..."

     I reached around and under with my other hand -- I was always  very 
limber, almost double-jointed -- and pried open the snap of my  bra. It felt 
so good to have the pressure off! I shrugged and  pulled it off, releasing his
hard young cock just long enough to  remove the straps.

     He reached down with one finger and rested just the tip  against my left 
nipple. He pressed carefully. My breasts were so  firm that it hardly gave at 
all. He put his whole hand on my tit  and squeezed carefully and the sensation
sent a rush right through  my body to my pussy. I had learned how pleasurable 
it could be to  fuck, and I was turned on by the prospect of doing it again. 

     With him standing next to the chair, his dick was almost level  with my 
nose. I pulled him close and bent his prick down slightly.  I turned in the 
chair to face him and rubbed the silky flesh of the  red, throbbing glans 
against my right nipple. 

     "You're gonna make me shoot my stuff," he gasped.

     "Wouldn't you like that?"

     "It'll get all over everything!"

     "Can't have that." I kept rubbing and squeezing and when he  started to 
spasm, I raised his dick, brought my mouth down and  sucked the head into my 
mouth. His juice was very thick and a  little vinegary. And there was a lot of
it. I knew how to suck and  swallow -- I'd had some practice with Jerry, 
remember -- and how  use my tongue a little. I kept my lips locked around his 
shaft and  kept jacking him with my hand. I think he came for about a half a  
minute. I had to swallow twice. His hips kept flailing away even  after he 
stopped shooting and his dick hardly lost any of its  stiffness.

     I realized then that I had my free hand between my legs and I  was 
squeezing and rubbing my pussy. I was getting very, very turned  on. The fact 
that he wasn't pressing me or forcing me, that I felt  in control of the 
situation -- that had a lot to do with it; I felt  comfortable and 
unthreatened.

     I let go of his prick and pushed his shorts to his ankles. He  stepped 
out of them and I stood and stripped. My white cotton  panties were absolutely
soaked.

     "Can I just -- look at you for a minute?"

     "Look all you want, honey." I caught sight of my reflection in  the 
mirror on the closet door. Let me tell you, I was damn foxy  looking! My 
complexion is almost swarthy and ample time sunbathing  had darkened it to a 
kind of smoldering shade. My hair was long and  straight in those days, down 
to my shoulders, and my face was round  and had a lot of baby fat then. I had 
good legs -- not great -- but  they were nicely shaped and in proportion to my
hips. My tits were  very firm, of course, and looked big and my nipples were 
hard as  pebbles. My belly was flat and my waist and hips were exactly right  
for a healthy almost-eleven-year-old. I had no hair on my pussy  yet, so I was
all sleek and shiny with perspiration and all lithe,  with hints of the curves
to come. I got turned on even more just  looking at myself.

     I raised my arms over my head and slowly turned in front of  him. When I 
was facing him again, he just stood there with his  mouth hanging open. But he
was standing there naked and with a  rock-hard erection, too. 

     "I want you to do something for me," I told him, sidling  closer.

     "Anything," he breathed.

     "I'll let you do it to -- with me, but first I want you to  kiss me ... 
down there."

     He frowned. "You mean -- down there?" 

     This sounded familiar, but I knew how to deal with it, now. I  stepped 
closer and let my tits press against his stomach. His cock  was jabbing my 
stomach.

     "Yes."

     "Is it clean?"

     I nodded and began turning back and forth, slowly, so my  sweat-slicked 
breasts were rubbing against him.

     "I don't know how -- "

     "Do what I tell you and you'll learn. You may even enjoy it.  Besides, 
I'll suck you again."

     He seemed dubious, but I grabbed his dick and pulled him with  me toward 
the narrow bed. I sat on the bed, still holding his  prick, and pulled him 
close to me. I leaned forward to kiss his  cock. Then I let go of his dick and
laid back, my legs a little  apart.

     "Start by kissing my tits," I told him and boy, was he eager!  He was 
trembling when he crawled on the bed and bent his head down  to my tits. He 
kissed them all over. His breath was hot, even on my  warm flesh. He kissed 
them, pressing his lips against the firm  curves. He kissed my nipples as 
gentle as a fly landing and then  got a little adventurous and sucked one 
lightly into his mouth. I  couldn't stop my gasp of pleasure or the little 
shiver that went  through my hips. I took one of his hands and put it on the 
breast  he wasn't kissing at the moment. I led his thumb and forefinger to  my
nipple.

     "Now very gently, pinch it -- ah!" The sensation was  maddening. He was a
quick study and very attentive and quickly got  the knack of drawing the pads 
of his thumb and forefinger up from  the base, barely grazing the hard little 
spike until they reached  the tip -- and then tugging lightly on it. It didn't
take too much  of that before my hips were rolling and my legs were opened.

     I pushed his head down over me and he kissed and licked and  nibbled his 
way down past my ribcage, down over my flat ten-and-a- half-year-old's belly 
and abdomen, down to where the fever was. I  swear, I could feel my pussy 
pulsing with eagerness.

     I held his head in both hands and directed his mouth right  there, to the
top of my little mound. When his lips pressed my  clit, I came. Damn! I just 
lay there and shuddered with the  pleasure of it. By now my legs wee wide open
and my hips wee  rolling around and rubbing my cunt all over his face. He 
didn't  seem to mind the taste too much! 

     I tasted blood and realized I had bit my lip, trying to stifle  any 
noise. I let go of his head and he looked up and said, "Are you  alright? Did 
I hurt you?"

     "Honey, I am totally right and you did it right! Lick me a  little, will 
you?"

     I didn't have to ask twice. He plunged in eagerly, lapping  away at my 
bald little cunt like a puppy with water. He even tried  pushing his tongue 
inside a couple of times, but I was too tight.  At one point, he pulled my 
legs up and over his back, so my thighs  were on his shoulders and my vagina 
was aimed right up into his  mouth. 

     He was holding my little butt. His hands almost covered my  cheeks. He 
pulled my cunt up to his mouth and gobbled. And let me  tell you, it didn't 
take him long to find the most important place.  He got the tip of his tongue 
on my clitoris -- it felt like it was  swollen as a big as a marble -- and 
played with it and I was lost.

     I reached back and pulled a corner of the bedspread up to  stuff in my 
mouth and then all hell broke loose. I came and came  and came. It was like 
some kind of seizure. Even though he later  denied it, I could tell that the 
pressure of my thighs on his ears  had hurt, because his ears were all red.

     I finally had to drag his head away from my little pussy; I  simply 
couldn't take any more. It was almost hurting from that  direct manipulation. 

     I pulled him up on that skinny bed next to me and rolled him  onto his 
back and sprawled on top of him. He was gasping and I was  panting and we were
both absolutely covered with perspiration,  which made us all slippery against
each other. 

     "Have you ever been inside a girl before?" I asked him. He  shook his 
head. I rolled on top of him and straddled his waist,  kneeling. I reached 
back and found his cock, hard and hot,  throbbing just behind me. I leaned 
back a bit so I could feel it  press into the upper separation of my ass 
cheeks. He groaned a  little bit.

     "Have you ever been inside a girl before?" I asked him. He
shook his head. I rolled on top of him and straddled his waist,
kneeling. I reached back and found his cock, hard and hot,
throbbing just behind me. I leaned back a bit so I could feel it
press into the upper separation of my ass cheeks. He groaned a
little bit.
     I leaned forward onto him and gave him a big wet kiss right on
the lips and we tongued each other a bit. His hands had come up to
stroke and caress my back and slide down to squeeze my ass.
     "You just lay there a minute and I'll get this under wy," I
told him. I knelt up and moved back, then crouched over him. His
dick was standing up so stiffly it was at maybe a forty-five degree
angle to his stomach. I grabbed his prick in one hand and lowered
myself till it was against my cunt.
     My pussy was all red and swollen and I was incredibly wet.
Still, it was a good thing he was so hard, or it never would have
gone into me. As it was, the fit was so snug that when maybe a
third of him was inside me, I stopped and tried to relax.
     "I don't think I can hold it," he groaned.
     Well, I wanted him to hold it, because it felt so good going
in -- but I wanted him to feel as good as he made me feel, so I
said, "Honey, you just relax and let it shoot."
     He sighed and I pushed down and back, thrusting more and more
of his dick into me and he started cumming. His hands pulled my ass
down and I had almost all of him in me before he stopped shooting.
I could feel his spasms, but I was already so wet I didn't feel his
jism in me.
     But he stayed mostly hard and when I finally got the last of
his dick in me, I started sliding around. I let myself fall forward
onto him, so my titties were pressed into his upper stomach and I
just let my hips go, rolling and rocking and sliding up and down.
     In no time at all he was hard as a rock inside me again and I
was starting to cum again. Unlike the orgasms when he was eating
me, this one built and built and built, like a wave coming in, and
when it started, I could feel my little cunt close even more around
him. He was jerking his hips up, thrusting into me crazily. I sat
up and back and let all sixty-four pounds of me press my cunt down
hard onto his stiff dick. I glanced down, past the barely jiggling
mounds of my hard tits and the swollen-to-bursting points of my
nipples and I could see his dick stretching into my little pussy,
my cunt lips pulled wide to accommodate his shaft.
     I just kept cumming and cumming and then he whispered that he
was going to cum again. I grabbed my nipples and squeezed and
ground my cunny down till my clit was mashed into the little pubic
mat around the base of his cock. I felt his dick flex as he creamed
inside me and each throb sent me deeper into my orgasm.
     I toppled forward onto him as he finished and lay there with
his dick, finally shriveling, still clamped in my puss. I thought I
would pass out; he had.
     I pulled myself off him. My cunt held onto his limp prick and
stretched it out till it popped free and flopped back onto his
belly. A thick mixture of juices, his and mine, seeped out of my
tight slit. His dingus looked cute now, all curled up and shriveled
like a little boy's.
     I put my panties back on, mostly to keep all that stuff from
draining down my legs, then my shorts and my bra. My breasts were
still swollen and very tender. My tee-shirt was too drenched -- so,
for that matter, was the bed -- so I rummaged through Marty's
dresser and took one of his. It was way too big, which was just
fine by me.
     I let myself out of his room and walked slowly downstairs.
Phil was still in front of the TV, now with a sandwich and potato
chips in front of him, along with the beer. The game was still on.
     "Who's winning?"
     "Indians." For the first time he looked at me. "Who're you?"
     I told him. He shook his head and looked back at the game.
"Funny. I thought you were eleven or twelve."
     "I'll be eleven in a couple of months."
     He looked back at me, staring quite openly at my figure.
"Damn. You have one hell of a figure for a kid your age."
     "You don't have to sound sad about it."
     "I wish you were old enough for -- never mind." He laughed.
     "For what?"
     This time he gave me an appraising look. "Where's Marty?"
     "Upstairs. I asked him to show me his ham station. You still
didn't tell me what you wish I was old enough for."
     "Nothing a kid like you should be hearing." He turned his gaze
firmly back on the TV. "I'll be seeing you around, Marie."
     "Be seein' ya'," I said and let myself out of the house.
     So I had made this discovery, see? I could find and be close
to and even have sex with nice men and I could turn men on and
still have them treat me right and it could be fun and sweet and
pleasurable and not hateful or hurtful or scary. All the way home,
five blocks on the East Side of Toledo on a hot summer day, boys
would stare at me and some men, too, and most of them would look
away when they saw my face and realized how young I was, and it
didn't scare me. That was important: It didn't scare me.
     And since it could be fun and didn't scare me and felt awful
nice, I determined to do a lot more of it.
     When I set my mind to something, I do it. This was no
exception. I had just been warming up, so to speak.


CHAPTER THREE
 
     I saw Marty a couple of more times in the next few weeks and  we tried 
all sorts of things when we could. I somehow got the  feeling Phil suspected 
what was going on, but he didn't say  anything to me and if he said anything 
to Marty, Marty didn't tell  me.

     Then my phantom step-brother came to visit for a week or so. I  purposely 
bought a new two-piece suit in a size that fit my waist.  In other words, it 
was far too small for my bust. Then I made sure  I was sunning myself on the 
picnic table out behind the kitchen  window when he came in from the airport. 
He didn't even recognize  me at first. Then he just shook his head and looked 
away from the  window, the one that looks out on the back yard. He was, let's 
see,  fifteen then, and damn! what a fox! But he always behaved properly  
toward me -- I could tell he was a little uncomfortable -- and  nothing 
happened, no matter how much I tried to provoke it. And I  tried.

     But my best friend, Lisa, got a terrible crush on him and the  way he 
dealt with it was so sweet! He treated her like a regular  grownup person, not 
like an eleven-year-old with a crush, and very  gently steered her away. 
Hahaha! I remember when she gave him a  present -- a bag of potato chips. He 
accepted it and thanked her  for her thoughtfulness and she jumped up and gave 
him a little kiss  on the cheek and ran away. He sat there, blushing like mad, 
and  just opened the bag and offered some to me. I was laughing at Lisa  and 
he demanded that I stop.

     "Oh, Dan, she's just got a terrible crush on you! It's puppy  love!"

     He looked me right in the eye and told me he thought she was  sweet, 
pretty and nice and then he said: "Besides, Marie, do  puppies hurt less than 
grown dogs?"

     I stopped laughing.

     And that was the thing about him: He understood things you  already knew, 
and he could remind you of them. 

     Anyhow, by the time Labor Day rolled around -- the last  weekend of 
summer -- Marty and I were on the splits. All there'd  ever really been 
between us was sex and I'd figured out he wasn't  the only boy I could get. He 
was nice enough, but he was, well --  dull. My eleventh birthday came and went 
in August.

     The problem was that I loved sex and I'd gotten used to  getting it 
pretty much when I wanted it. And I was horny as hell.

     On the Friday night of Labor Day weekend, Alexis -- my sister;  she's 
almost five years older than me -- was out on a date and Mom  and Dad had 
taken my two baby brothers with them out to Genoa, to  Uncle Van's, to watch 
the fireworks show. I knew they'd be late  getting back, so I decided to treat 
myself to a hot bath and little  Yellow Pages fun --

     [That's what I called masturbating. You know: "Let your  fingers do the 
walking"?]

     The only other one in the house was my younger sister, Jeanne.  Jeanne 
was exactly eleven months younger then me and she was a  beauty. She was less 
like me than like Alexis -- who's a natural  plantinum blonde with a 
peaches-and-cream complexion and ripe red  lips. Jeanne was sandy blonde and 
already had this lovely face and  long legs. My phantom step-brother used to 
call her the fawn,  because she was so lithe and graceful. 

     [Right, I was sort of the missing link. Grandma used to say  there'd been 
a nigger in the woodpile where I was concerned,  because I was so swarthy and 
built completely different. I found  out years later that there was a reason I 
was different, but  Grandma had been way off the mark...]

     Anyhow.

     I had drawn a hot, hot bath and filled it with bubble bath,  this stuff 
I'd gotten for my birthday from some cousin or other. I lay in the tub and 
spent some time just savoring the heat of the  water and the scent of the 
bubble bath and then started fooling  around. Pretty soon, I was all worked 
up. My fingers weren't just  walking; they were dancing and diving. I was 
rubbing my clitoris  like I wanted to rub it right off and when I came I made 
some kind  of noise and sloshed water, because Jeanne banged on the door and  
asked was I okay.

     I told her I was okay and she kept wanting to know what I was  doing. 
Really spoiled it for me. So I got out of the bath and  toweled off and opened 
the door and stood there naked in front of  my little sister. Jeanne was just 
wearing a tee-shirt and panties  and she looked so pretty...

     "Something private," I said and took my towel down the hall to  my room, 
still naked.

     She followed me.

     "I know what you were doing."

     "What?"

     "Playing with yourself."

     From down the hall, I heard the last of the water sucked down  the tub 
drain.

     "That's right, Jeanne." I started to turn away, then changed  my mind. 
"How did you know?"

     "I know you've been doing it for a while, now."

     "Do you do it?"

     She blushed just a little and shrugged and nodded. "I guess  so."

     I noticed that beneath her loose tee-shirt, the little nubs of  her 
nipples were hardening. "What do you think about when you do  it?"

     "...stuff."

     "What stuff?"

     "Just ... stuff." She was obviously uncomfortable with this.  So I 
pursued it.

     [Yes, I was being a bitch.]

     "What do you think about?" she demanded.

     "Doing it with boys."

     "Doing wha -- you mean, IT?"

     I nodded. "And I like it."

     "You've done it with a boy? When? Who? Did it hurt? Did you  like it? 
What did he do?"

     "For one thing, he never made me stand around all wet." I  started to dry 
myself. She was watching. 

     "Did they grab your boobs?"

     "Sometimes, but I made them stop if they hurt me."

     "Did you like it?"

     "It can be very nice."

     "I wish I had nice boobs like you." She was watching them  bounce and 
move as I dried myself.

     "It's not so much the boobs as the nipples, Jeanne." I stood  and looked 
down at my breasts, then reached up with one hand and  rubbed the stiff nodule 
of one nipple. It swelled even more. I  pinched it gently and couldn't help 
sighing with pleasure.  "Definitely, the nipples," I said. I looked up at her. 
"You don't  have to have big boobs to enjoy having your nipples kissed and  
licked ... and sucked."

     "But if you don't have boobs, they don't pay much attention to  you above 
the waist."

     "Too bad they don't, isn't it? It's really nice ... " I rubbed  the pad 
of my forefinger across the other nipple. "Try it," I said.

     She misunderstood.

     My baby sister -- not little, cause she was about three inches  taller 
than me -- reached out and brushed her fingers across my  nipple. She caught 
me by surprise and so did the sensation of  having someone else touch me like 
that. In particular, having a  woman touch me like that. My sister, even.

     The tingle that went through me was intense; I was afraid I  was going to 
have an orgasm -- bang, just like that. As it was, my  knees got a little weak.

     "You mean like that?"

     I nodded. "Or like this -- " I reached out and lightly caught  one of 
those little pencil-eraser-size bumps under her tee-shirt  and squeezed it, 
oh, just ever so lightly, between my thumb and  forefinger. Her eyes 
half-closed and her lips, those lush, pouty  young lips, parted slightly. I 
dropped the towel. Without releasing  her nipple, I did the same with the 
other nipple and stepped closer  to her, carefully twisting the swollen little 
buds. Her breath was  shallow, but hot and sweet on my face. Her lips looked 
so sweet, I  just had to -- 

     So I kissed her, right on the mouth, kissed her the way I  liked to be 
kissed and apparently, our genes ran true. She gasped  and kissed me back and 
after a few moments our tongues met. She  brought her hands up and began 
caressing and feeling my breasts. I  raised her tee-shirt and found her tits 
had just begun the  slightest of swellings around the prominent nozzles of her 
nipples.  I licked her little mounds and then lavished my tongue on her  
nipples. Her knees kept buckling. 

     I led her to the bed and pulled her tee-shirt off. "I'm going  to show 
you how nice it can be, sweet Jeanne." She lay back readily  and I bent over 
her, licking and kissing her nipples, her budding  breasts, her throat and her 
mouth. She kept running her hands all  over me, but never quite touched the 
place that most craved  touching.

     It wasn't long before we were laying side-by-side on my bed,  kissing and 
caressing each other passionately. Finally, when I was  on top of her, I 
leaned to one side and put my hand between us, on  the mound within her wet 
panties. I rubbed my fingers carefully  around her pudgy little cunt and she 
started bucking her hips up  toward me. I pulled her sodden panties down, 
exposing her fledgling  pussy in all its perfect, hairless loveliness and then 
I rolled to  poise on all fours over her.

     "I am going to make you feel wonderful now," I said. "Okay?"

     Her eyes were closed in her flushed face and she merely nodded  and 
moaned. Then I twisted on the bed and began lapping at my  sister. 

     Yes, I ate her. I loved it. Not just the sweet, fresh taste of  her 
juices or the slick feel of her naked pussy under my lips and  tongue. That 
wasn't all of it. For one thing, I loved the way she  kept moaning and moving 
with pleasure beneath me. For another, I  was getting the chance to lick her 
in exactly the way I'd wanted to  be licked, as I'd tried -- and failed -- to 
train Marty to lick me.  Best of all, it was like telling the world, "Fuck 
you! This is how  sweet and good and beautiful it is at heart -- not the 
dirty,  secret hurtful thing you make it out to be!"

     She came in long, gentle, rolling waves of pleasure, all  clenched and 
slippery and writhing. She was so beautiful in her  innocent passion!

     Finally, I lay back with my face wet with her juices. I  stretched out 
next to her and pulled her face to me. She hesitated  -- and then we 
tongue-kissed again. Her mouth was soft and sweet  and seeking and she seemed 
determined to lick all of her own  secretions of my mouth. She sat up and over 
and began kissing my  breasts, pausing the suck my nipples, and kissed her way 
down,  down, down over my flat belly and down to my thighs. She kissed the  
insides of my thighs for a long time and then -- 

     And then she began licking me. As soon as her tongue touched  my cunt 
lips, I began cumming and when she located and locked in on  the fervent bud 
of my clitoris, the sensation was exquisite. My  cunt clenched wildly. I 
reached out and pulled her over me, so her  legs were astraddle my head, and 
then I pulled her precious little  cunt into my mouth and we began 
sixty-nining. I begged her to put  her finger in me and she complied 
hesitantly -- until she  comprehended my response; then she worked that finger 
around and  around happily, setting off explosions within me like firecrackers 
 on Chinese New Year.

     I didn't even think about what I did next until I was almost  doing it -- 
and then it was her response that gave me pause. I had  one finger poised at 
the clamshell-tight lips of her cunt above me,  about to probe within when she 
tensed. I remembered how it had hurt  me the first time; I didn't want to do 
that to my baby sister --   hurt her, I mean. So I merely traced my finger 
around her swollen  cunt lips while my worked busily at her clit.

     But after a time -- a minute? Five minutes? I dunno -- she  raised her 
head and wailed, "Dammit, Mar, stop teasing me! Put it  inside!"

     Whatever you want, baby sister. 

     I slipped it in carefully, to the first joint, always ready to  stop and 
withdraw at the first resistance of hymen.

     But my fingers slid all the way into that unbelievably tight  little 
cunt, right to the base, and when my sister came this time,  she was like a 
madwoman -- and she vented it all on my cunt.

     The two of us bucked and arched and came, over and over again.  When we 
could finally stop, I pulled her up to me and we lay in  each other's arms, 
panting and kissing and hugging and still  tingling. 

     When I could speak, I told her, "I was afraid to put my finger  in. The 
first time usually hurts."

     "I know," she said simply.

     I opened my eyes wide and stared at her. Her eyes wee wide and  clear and 
knowing, inches from mine.

     She said nothing. After a moment, I understood -- as she'd  known I 
would. We had something else in common. We held each other  tightly for a long 
time, quietly comforting and bonded in a shared  experience.

     [No, I don't want to talk about that. Not now.]

 
CHAPTER FOUR
 
     Jeanne and I got to be regulars at that, sneaking into bed 
together whenever we got the chance -- and that was every few days, 
at least, since who would suspect a ten-year-old girl and her 
eleven-year-old sister -- even if the eleven-year-old was 
developing the kind of figure I was?

     [Oh, yeah, well strange as it sounds, they didn't seem to be 
growing that fast right then, as if there was this first spurt and 
then it slowed down a more normal pace; the major difference was 
that my "normal pace" had gotten a head start. I was kind of glad, 
in a way. I mean, they had stabilized at too big for a training 
bra, but I still wasn't able to wear even a 32-inch bra, the 
smallest they sold in the stores. I only measured twenty-five 
inches at the bust.]

      The problem was, I wasn't growing taller or wider, either. I 
was only about four-foot-five and my waist was still nineteen 
inches and my hips were just about twenty-four inches, so I still 
looked surprisingly busty. If it hadn't been for Dana Connolly --

     Dana and I had gotten to be pretty close friends, mostly 
because she and I the were two girls always getting hit on by high 
school kids. Dana was tall for her age -- about five-foot-three or 
-four -- and she had a real figure, all nice, sleek curves. She had 
these real long legs and lots of blonde hair. Dana wasn't pretty, 
but she was attractive and I could see the boys found her sexy and 
I knew why: She had a way of walking and moving .... Mmmm. She was 
sexy and she knew it and she flaunted it. And she was adventurous. 
She'd try just about anything. With anyone. She told me things -- 

     [No. I promised I'd never tell and I haven't and I won't. even 
though she betrayed me two years later. We haven't spoken since. 
But a promise is a promise.]

     Where was I -- ?

     Right.  Well, if it hadn't been for her, I probably would have 
gotten all the wrong kinds of attention for all the wrong reason. 
As it was, when we hung out together, boys who came on to me got 
lured away by Dana -- which was just fine, as she liked any 
attention from boys, and I was sort of picky.

     [No, I hadn't lost interest -- quite the contrary, my dear! -- 
but the kind of high school boys who come on to a sixth-grader were 
not the kind I wanted to deal with. Dana seemed able to handle 
them -- and did she enjoy handling them!]

     It was fine with me.

     The first half of my seventh-grade year was pretty uneventful. 
Oh, sure, I came on to a couple of eighth grade boys and a freshman 
at Rossford High -- I was successful with all but one, who got 
scared and ran away -- but it was always furtive and sneaking and 
there was never time to really enjoy it. Besides, mostly they just 
seemed interested in grabbing my tits and poking me with their 
fingers. One of the eighth graders was ready and willing to fuck 
me, but every time he got his cock near me, he came. This happened 
over and over again, to our eternal frustration. It was almost 
funny -- and it was amazing, too. 

     One night, I got him alone in the back of one of the school 
busses parked in the school lot. We had time and I was determined. 
He always amazed me when he came so fast, because there was a lot 
of it. He had really big balls and even after he came, he got hard 
again.

     This time, I figured, I would get him off a couple of times 
and then get him inside me. It was November and it had been almost 
a month since I'd had a hard dick in me. My baby sister's lovely 
tongue and fingers notwithstanding, there was no substitute for the 
real thing.
     We were having a little bit of Indian summer, so the Saturday 
night in Thanksgiving weekend, we sneaked into the lot and into one 
of the buses in the back. I stripped us both to the waist -- from 
the ankles -- and went to work. Sure as a clock, as soon as he got 
between my legs and I grabbed his dick, he came all over the place. 
I mean, on the bus seat, on my legs, on my cunt, my belly -- 
everywhere. And stayed hard. Mostly.
     Fine, I thought, and proceeded with my plan. I stroked him a 
little, my hand all slippery with his cum, and when he was really 
hard again, lined up his cock with my pussy. And he came again -- 
just like before. Gobs everywhere.

     And stayed mostly hard.

     I told him, No problem; we're gong to lick this thing. And 
then I did just what I said and got down and started licking him.
He got stiff as steel and came in my mouth. I thought I'd drown.

     Surely, I thought, after cumming that much three times in 
twenty minutes, this time he'll last longer. I stroked him a little 
and had him lay on the seat. I managed to squat over him and this 
time the tip of his dick touched my cunt. Success! I thought.

     Wrong-o. He spurted again and left a lake of it dripping on 
his belly and pooling there.

     This went on for about an hour and a half and all together, he 
came on, around and over me about six times.

     On the seventh try, he got the head of his cock into my pussy 
and started cumming immediately. I was on the back seat of the bus 
with my legs around his waist; he was standing on the floor. As 
soon as I felt his dick enter me, I pulled him in the rest of the 
way. If I'd thought he'd cum the first six times, I hadn't seen 
anything. I think he must've cum in me for a full minute or more. 
The only reason he stopped was he passed out and collapsed. By 
then, the jism had filled my cunt and backed up and dripped out 
around his prick.

     His cock was still hard.

     I considered squatting over him and taking advantage of it, 
but by then I was tired and stiff and hardly even horny any more. I 
woke him up and cleaned him up and he told me how he loved me and 
how great it was and we left.

     Christmas and winter came and went. Dad got drunk a lot that 
year, worrying about money, I guess, and he got mean when he got 
drunk. Jeanne and I conspired to avoid him and were largely 
successful.

     So then it was spring of 1966 and that was the first time I 
seduced an older man. It wa over spring break -- we called it 
Easter Vacation at St. Cornelius.

     I'd gone into Genoa to stay at Uncle Van's house for a few 
days. His daughter, Charlene, was a lot like me in some ways. 
Charlene was a little more than a year older, but she was all pudgy 
and baby fat, just starting to melt away. But was she ever boy-
crazy! Charlene made even Dana seem tame. She'd do anything to get 
boys around her and keep them near here. She'd told me how she once 
pulled a train -- 

     [Gang-bang. When a girl fucks several guys in succession, 
that's pulling a train.] 

     She was almost thirteen. She'd done it when she was twelve, 
with a bunch of her brother's friends.

     Her brother, Tod, was a real asshole. He was fifteen then. A 
real blockhead. About six foot two, maybe two hundred and twenty 
pounds -- enormous for his age. But he didn't have a brain in his 
head -- and no sense of right and wrong, either. If he wanted 
something, he bullied his way around till he got it. He'd started 
fucking Charlene when she was nine. "Raping her" is more like it. 
If Charlene was twisted, Tod was why. Sometimes I wonder if she 
didn't provoke .... No. I don't think any nine-year-old girl knows 
enough to do that. And I think Charlene may have been a little off, 
y'know?

     Anyhow, Charlene and I got along pretty good and besides, they 
had this terrific in-ground pool and it was shaping up to be a hot 
summer, judging by spring, and they had a finished basement with a 
pool table and stuff and her folks were away a lot. Uncle Van drove 
on the racing circuit, and they were always off somewhere or other. 
And I just wanted to get the hell out of Toledo for a while. 

     It was nice. We sat up and watched scary movies from the 
Detroit stations and we exchanged notes and secrets about 
mysterious doings with boys and -- 

     [No. I didn't find her appealing in that way and she didn't 
care for women that way.] 

     They lived in this development off State Route 51 and their 
neighbor was this guy named Roger something-or-other. 

     [Did you know that "roger" is now another word for "fuck"? No 
kidding. In upper-class circles now they talk about men rogering 
women. Everyone knows what it means, so why don't they just say -- 
Oh, never mind.]

     Anyhow. Roger's wife had just left him, oh, not six months 
before and the guy was a wreck. Charlene told me he was all messed 
up -- couldn't sleep or eat or anything. 

     Roger was about twenty-seven and about six foot tall and had 
this great body that I saw sometimes when he was working in his 
yard. And he was nice looking. Not a fox, like my phantom step-
brother; just nice.  But there was something about him that had me 
all achy and twisty-stomachy and wet and itchy inside just to look 
at him. Charlene told me his lights were on all night and he always 
looked really tired and sometimes you had to call his name two or 
three times before he noticed you. It was like he was still in 
shock from his wife leaving him. Charlene didn't know why she'd 
left, but said she was a real slut -- worse: a cheat. 

     I knew he was a long haul trucker and when he was working, 
he'd be away a week at a time. I knew he was quite an amateur 
gardener. And Charlene had told me he sometimes let Uncle Van use 
his basement workshop, because his hobbies included cabinet-making.

     That was my key. I waited for the right moment. It came two 
days later. Van and Aunt Irene were down in Kentucky for a race and 
Tod was passed out -- as usual when his folks were away -- from too 
much beer. Charlene had taken her bike to peddle over to Casper's 
Corners, this country-road intersection about three miles away 
where a lot of kids hung out.

     I waited till I heard the radio from his house and then went 
over. It was about seventy degrees, but there was a breeze. I wore 
a light windbreaker, real short cutoffs that had faded and shrunk 
all soft to fit snug on my butt. Under the windbreaker I was 
wearing a thin tanktop and nothing else. I rang the bell. He 
answered, wearing a pair of jeans and a sport shirt. The jeans were 
nicely filled.

     He didn't recognize me through the screen door for a moment, 
then he smiled. "Hello. You're Marie, aren't you? What can I do for 
you?"

     "Uncle Van said you know cabinet-making and I wanted to ask 
you about it. Can I come in?"

     He held the door for me and asked if I'd like a Coke or some 
juice, and I said water would be dandy. While he fetched it, I 
looked around the living room.

     Roger's house was identical in layout to Van and Irene's, but 
where my uncle's house was decorated to look like an Italian 
director's idea of a swinging Playboy pad -- all shag rugs and red 
drapes and such -- Roger's looked like one of those model rooms 
they set up in furniture stores. And everything was spotlessly, 
shining clean. There was a whole bookcase full of books. I looked 
them over: Reader's Digest Condensed versions. Ycccch. But at least 
he read books.

     He returned, water in hand. I unzipped my windbreaker about 
halfway and thanked him. 

     "I want to put a bookcase in my room -- not real big, just 
about this high --" I held my hand even with my breasts. "-- and 
about this wide --" I held my arms wide apart. This caused the 
windbreaker to part and my breasts to heave up into sight within 
the tanktop. "Do I need a lot of power tools for that or can I just 
use a hand saw and hammer and nails?"

     "Easy. You don't even need a saw. The lumber yard will cut the 
boards to the length you want for about a nickel a cut. Hammer and 
nails and glue will be -- "

     "Glue? Like Elmer's?"

     "Better to use Carpenter's Glue." I nodded. "What color will 
you paint it?"

     "I don't want to paint it. I like wood."

     He grinned. "Smart girl. You could stain it, you know. That 
would give it a shade to go with your room and wouldn't hide the 
grain."

     "I suppose, but Dad's always talking abut how easy it is to 
mess up with stain."

     "Naw; you just have to know how to do it. I'm going to stain a 
piece I just made; want to watch?"

     Well of course I did and I'd known -- from peeking through his 
basement window -- that was what he was going to do, which was why 
I'd asked the question I'd asked. Heheheh.

     His basement was as neat as his living room. Half of it was a 
little recreation room with a pool table. Built-in couches lined 
two walls. We went into his workshop and he showed me how he 
stained furniture -- in this case, a natural penetrating stain on 
the maple top of what would be a gorgeous credenza. And he was 
right: It was easy and neat, not at all messy, if you knew what you 
were doing, which I figured could be said about a lot of things.

     I thanked him and we stepped back into the rec room. I picked 
up the cue ball and rolled it toward the neat triangle of balls 
waiting at the other end of the table.

     "Do you play?"

     I shook my head. "Always wanted to learn how, but we don't 
have one."

     "Van and Irene have one. I'm surprised Tod hasn't taught you."
     I laughed. "Tod's always trying to teach me something, but 
it's not pool. He's always grabbing me and stuff."

     "Pretty girl like you will have to expect that and figure out 
how to deal with it."

     "I wouldn't mind, so much," I said, "except Tod's so grabby 
and such an -- " I shut my mouth.

     "An asshole?"

     I laughed. "Exactly."

     "Pool's rules are simple for the major games," he explained. 

"It's getting good at it that's tough. Good at pool means 
practice." He frowned. "Good at anything means practice." Then he 
brightened. "Want me to teach you?"

     "You wouldn't mind -- "

     "Not at all." He selected a pair of sticks from the rack, and 
showed me how to hold the stick and stroke. I kept messing up, 
mostly because I didn't have much coordination , but sometimes on 
purpose. Knowing what was coming. 

     "Here," he said, moving around the table to stand behind me. 

     "Hold on." I removed the windbreaker in the minimally 
ventilated room. "It's warm down here." Now my tits were exposed 
against the tanktop, which was damp and starting to cling quite 
nicely, thank you. he glanced at them, then away. The deep arm 
openings went down so low that I knew he could see the sides of my 
breasts. "Okay."

     He reached his arms around me and bent me forward a little to 
reach the cue ball. I could sense him stiffly trying not to make 
any body contact. I was having none of that, so I kept arching my 
butt out until I felt his thigh against my behind. Then I shimmied 
to the left and rubbed my butt on his crotch a little. He froze, 
still as a rock -- and the lump in his jeans was just as hard.

     He stood straight and I straightened with him, dropping my 
poolstick to the felt and taking his wrists in my hands. I led his 
hands to my tits and placed them. He lightly cupped my breasts and 
his thumbs moved back and forth across my stiff nipples through the 
tee-shirt. My breathing was as shallow as his.

     "We shouldn't be doing this," he said quietly.

     "Why not?"

     "You're just a kid -- "

     I pulled his hands tighter against my breasts and stood on 
tiptoes to rub my denim-clad ass into his crotch. "A kid?" I turned 
within his arms. "I know what I'm doing. I like it. I want to do it 
-- with you."

     I reached down to cup one hand against his balls. My hand was 
filled. I unzipped his jeans and wiggled open the waist snap, then 
pushed them down. He was, happily, naked underneath. His dick was 
the longest I had ever seen at that point, about eight inches, and 
quite thick. The head was throbbing against the underside of my 
tits through the tee-shirt.

     I grabbed the thick shaft in both hands and lightly stroked. 
He groaned and rested his hands lightly on my shoulders. I bent a 
little at the waist and licked the thick head of his prick, then 
opened my mouth and took it inside. By then I knew some things to 
do with my tongue and lips and I did them. I sucked and tongued his 
dick head and he groaned and warned me he was going to cum if I did 
that. I made a loud, affirmative noise and sucked and jacked his 
cock all the more urgently, squeezing it at the same time. It was 
like squeezing a piece of thinly upholstered wood.

     He was true to his word, too -- he came. Oh, boy, did he come! 
He arched backward and his dick swelled up inside my mouth so much 
I don't think I could have removed it if I'd wanted to and then he 
started shooting. I don't know how long it had been since his last 
ejaculation, but the stuff just poured out of him in powerful 
spurts that made me gurgle, no matter how fast I swallowed. He let 
loose three or four of those long geysers and then began shooting 
fast spurts -- splat - splat - splat -- like that.

     After about a half minute. the spurts slowed and stopped and 
his dick started to shrivel some. I sucked the head as I pulled 
back and was rewarded with a last shivering dribble of his cum and 
a soft groan from him.

     He dropped to his knees in front of me and his face was even 
with my tits. He pulled my tanktop over my head -- it was pretty 
gooey with his overflowed cum, anyhow -- and started licking and 
kissing my tits. He would take most of my tit in his mouth and suck 
and slowly squeeze it out until just the nipple remained inside - 
and then he'd fasten onto my nipple. He'd suck like mad and whip 
the tip of his tongue back and forth over it so fast that I 
literally had an orgasm with each tit, just as if my nipples were 
little clitorises.

     All the time he was doing that, he was unfastening my shorts 
and pushing them down. When they fell to the floor, leaving me 
naked, he ran his hands up over the backs of my legs and clamped a 
hand over each cheek of my ass. My butt was so small and tight he 
could cover it with both hands. Two fingertips reached past my 
asshole and began to rub the thoroughly dripping lips of my swollen 
little snatch. I came again when he slipped a fingertip into the 
entrance of my cunt.

     Suddenly, he reached behind himself and pulled one of the 
cushions of the banquet. He whipped the cushion above my head and 
banged it down onto the pool table behind me. Then he stood, 
lifting me with him. I wrapped my legs around his hips and felt the 
underside of his reinvigorating cock against my pussy. He lay me on 
the cushion on the pool table and disengaged my leg grip, then 
lifted my ankles high, bent at the waist and began feasting.

     He licked my thighs and I came. He licked my cunt and I came. 
He licked and sucked my clitoris and I came. Soon I was just 
cumming, again and again. He took my ankles in his hands and pulled 
them wide and tried to stick his tongue inside my pussy. I was so 
small -- and even tighter from the constant orgasms -- that he 
couldn't even get the tip into me. But I was glad he tried, because 
it just made me keep cumming.

     Then he pushed my legs back till my knees were near my 
shoulders. I was completely opened to his attentions and my hips 
were aimed up at the ceiling. He moved his face back farther 
and began licking the inner slopes of my ass cheeks. I shrieked 
with surprise and pleasure and then with even more pleasure when he 
began swiping his tongue back and forth over my asshole. When he 
tried to get the tip of his tongue into my ass, there was no way it 
was going to penetrate -- but I had fun with his trying! I'd had no 
idea anything could feel so good back there and I came again.

     He turned me and the cushion on the pool table. Instead of my 
legs hanging over the edge, now I was laying along one side. He 
stood beside he table, next to my head, facing my feet. My heels 
were on the felt and my legs were bent and apart. He bent forward, 
put his face between my legs and started licking me again and I 
started cumming again. All I could feel was pleasure, endless 
pleasure.

     At some point, he got one hand under my butt and beyond and 
then he bent his wrist and forced one long, thick finger up my 
cunt. My pussy grabbed it and tried to get cum from the finger and 
I came some more. Then he wedged a second finger in with it, 
stretching my little twat, and all the time kept licking me and 
sucking my clittie. The juices were running down into the crack of 
my flexing ass.

     Then he pushed his pinky into my asshole.

     I yelped -- it hurt! But I was cumming, too, and couldn't stop 
cumming and he just kept working the finger into the narrow hole, 
forcing it deeper and deeper until it was all the way in.

     He just held it there without moving it, but that didn't 
matter: I was thoroughly stuffed, front and back, and the fingers 
stretching my cunt were wriggling. I could feel them pressing 
against the finger in my ass and vice versa -- and all the time he 
was licking and sucking my clit.

     I started cumming again and again I couldn't stop. Sometime in 
there, he started moving all three fingers in and out of me, 
separately. My narrow little butt-hole had loosened just a little 
and it still wasn't comfortable, but it sure as hell didn't hurt! I 
wasn't sure if the orgasms were starting with my clittie, in my 
cunt or even -- and I couldn't believe this -- in my ass. All I 
knew was I was cumming and cumming and didn't want it to stop.

     But stop it did -- when he withdrew his fingers and his mouth. 
The last thing he did was pull his pinky out of my ass, moving it 
in little circles as he withdrew it. It was like he was trying to 
widen the aperture. I don't think it worked, but at least it didn't 
hurt. Didn't feel half bad, actually.

     He stood straight beside the table and turned the cushion and 
me to our original position, with my ass perched at the edge. 
Again, he took my ankles in his hands and pulled my legs open, but 
this time he rested my calves on his shoulders. He stepped forward 
and his big, hard cock throbbed against my belly. His balls were 
pressed against my cunny and the head of his dick was almost on my 
belly button.

     He rocked back and forth,. The underside of his fat prick 
rubbed over my hairless pussy and massaged my swollen, protruding 
clit. It was making me crazy.

     Finally he backed up and took his dick in one hand. He put the 
knob against my cunt. 

     "Spread your little wings for me, baby," he said.

     I reached down between us and held my pussy lips wide. He 
rubbed and rotated the head of his dick in the oily cup formed by 
my opened pussy and then started pressing forward. 

     If I'd thought his cock felt big in my mouth, that was 
nothing; it was positively massive now. I felt like someone was 
slowly driving the fat end of a baseball bat into my little pussy. 
While it wasn't comfortable, it didn't hurt, either, but it was 
only exciting in an abstract way, not in real physical pleasure.

     He pressed it in and my cunt lips started to fold in with his 
dick. He pulled back and moved some of the lubrication around and 
then pushed again. This time the whole glans made it inside. I felt 
like it was possessing me from the inside. Again, my cunt lips 
started getting caught and again he withdrew to spread the 
lubrication.

     He did this three or four times, each time getting more and 
more into me and then the head was pressed through the inner 
constriction and I could feel it stretching the walls of my cunt.

     Now it did feel good. Oh, boy, did it feel good!

     "Unnnnnnh -- oh, give me more, give me mooooore," I moaned. He 
moved back and forth a little. Bit by bit, he was getting more of 
his fat, hard grownup prick into my fledgling cunt. It wasn't 
comfortable yet, but the arousal wasn't abstract now, either. I 
could almost feel it pushing my insides around and that was so 
strange it almost made me cum by itself.

     Then the end of his cock was banging into something deep 
inside me and that hurt. I let out a little yelp and he stopped and 
withdrew a bit.

     "Is--is it all in?"

     He shook his head. "No, baby, not all in."

     I couldn't believe him. I felt like it was reaching into my 
belly. I put my hand back down there and felt a good inch of his 
dick remaining outside. "I wanna see it," I said.

     He took my forearms in his hands and pulled me slightly 
upright so I could look down and see. An inch of his dick was 
uninserted. My pussy lips were stretched thin as rubber bands about 
it and my clitoris was pressed down almost against the back of his 
shaft by the stretching.

     He let me lay back and my feet fell from his shoulders and 
dangled limply to either side of his hips, from the knees down 
hanging off the pool table. I put one hand down there and pressed 
my clittie into the top of his shaft and then I started cumming 
again.

     "Awww, fuck me, Roger, fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckme..."

     Sound like I was delirious? It should, because I was.

     He moved in and out of me carefully at first, but every time 
he moved, his cock shaft massaged my clitoris and every time the 
little nubbin was touched I came; I was cumming every time he 
moved, every time my hips twitched, every time we breathed. And 
added to it was this big, thick dick moving deep inside me, faster 
and faster. I kept cumming even when he got a hand under my butt 
and slid his long middle finger up my ass.

     Now I was doubly filled, the finger in my ass compressing my 
little cunt even more around his cock. And I was cumming twice as 
hard. All the orgasms started to run together into one continuous 
spasm and then I passed out for a little bit. I know that's what 
happened because I remember everything drifting away when I felt 
his fat cock swell even more and then it was jerking, spewing hot 
wetness far, far inside me. He pressed one hand down over my 
abdomen, just above the plump little mound of my cunt, and 
everything went golden.

     I wasn't out for long, but when I became conscious again, his 
finger was already out of my ass and he had most of his cock out of 
my cunt. His dick was shriveling and when he pulled the plum-sized 
head of it out with audible plopping noise, a regular stream of goo 
-- a mixture of his juices and mine -- poured out and dripped on 
the table and floor.

     If his dick was getting limp, all it was doing was catching up 
with me. None of my muscles would work. I was utterly drained and 
tingling as if my skin was cumming. He bent and kissed me four 
times, gently, almost chastely -- on the forehead, on the lips, 
high on my belly and then, right on my cunt, pressing his lips into 
the flood of his sperm and my juices. Then he stood, scooped me in 
his arms and lay me down on one of the cushioned banquettes. He 
went for a towel. By the time he returned, I was on my belly; my 
butt wasn't that comfortable. Big surprise.

     He sat on the edge of the cushion next to me. He had his jeans 
on again and a fresh tee-shirt. He covered me with the towel and 
lightly stroked my back through it. That made me feel terrific, 
like what we'd done was special instead of something you sneak to 
do -- like it was a good, being-together thing.

     "How do you feel?"

     "My butt's sore," I said and giggled a little. He rested his 
hand lightly on one cheek. "But otherwise --- " I closed my eyes a 
hummed deep in my throat. "I feel wonderful. Just wonderful. You?"

     "The same. I still can't believe it. You're so little and 
young and -- But I feel good, baby, really good. And I feel like 
someone can like me again."

     I almost understood that at the time -- I understand it 
completely now, having been through a divorce -- but I knew I'd 
done something good as well as something that was incredibly 
pleasurable.

     He bent over and kissed me lightly and wetly on the nape of 
the neck. I shivered. "Wanna do it again?"

     He laughed against my damp flesh. "I'd love to. The spirit is 
willing but the flesh is weak."

     I groped till I found the lump his limp dick through his 
jeans. Even soft, it was nearly as big as Marty's was when it was 
hard. "Oh, I don't know," I said. "A little encouragement ... "

     He laughed. "We've been down here more than an hour."

     Which meant my cousin would be coming back soon. "Then I 
suppose I better get going. Can I rinse off somewhere?"

     "Shower's at the top of the stairs on the second floor, first 
door on the right."

     I rolled over and the towel fell. He kissed each of my nipples 
and helped me stand. I knew I should hurry, but I felt all 
lethargic and lazy, like a sated kitten, and walked naked to the 
stairs to the first floor. I hurried a little more getting up to 
the second floor. I liked the feel of the juices dribbling from 
between my again-tight cunt lips onto my thighs, the way the stuff 
lubricated my thighs when they touched as I walked.

     All of the accessories in the bedroom were hand-made of 
redwood; I guessed he'd built it all. It was quite different for a 
bathroom of the time and nice in a way. I took a hot, fast shower, 
scrubbing vigorously. When I stepped out of the shower, a little TV 
tray table awaited me in the hallway. On it were my shorts, a fresh 
tee-shirt that was almost the right size, my windbreaker -- and a 
tall tumbler of pop with ice in it. I could have cried, it was so 
considerate! No one had ever treated me like I was as special -- 
even more special -- after fucking. Before fucking, sure; but not 
after fucking. That was so terrific...

     On the way back down, I noticed on the stairway wall the 
black-and-white pictures that I hadn't noticed on the way up: a 
pretty brunette with great legs and a terrific figure and a pretty 
face. Roger had his arm around her waist in one picture.

     I ran over to him before he could get out of his reading chair 
and threw my arms around his neck and gave him a big hug and a 
kiss. "You are so sweet," I said.

     "Hey, baby, I enjoyed it, too."

     "Not just that," I said. "Bringing my things and the pop and-- 
well, that was so thoughtful."

     He shrugged as if it was nothing more than what was correct. 
His arm slid around me and he held me close. He dropped his hand to 
my rear and caressed my butt. "Your butt is like a peach," he 
whispered, "So hard and ripe and smooth -- I'd love to fuck you 
there."

     I gave him a playful slap on the arm. "Forget it! I could 
barely handle you in the right place!"

     "Maybe in a few years -- "

     "Say a hundred or so -- "

     We both chuckled, then he sighed. "Too bad. I do like doing 
that. A lot."

     I put my hand on the big bulge in his jeans. "With something 
this big ... Is that why your wife left you? It hurt too much?"

     He looked astonished. "She loved it. Hell, she introduced me 
to it!" He shook his head. "Where'd you get the idea she left me?"

     I blinked. "She didn't leave you?"

     "No."

     "That's what Charlene said -- "

     "Oh." His expression changed. "I threw her out. I told her if 
she contested my divorce application I'd have her jailed."

     "Jailed? For what?"

     He looked rueful. "For doing what I was doing today -- messing 
with a minor."

     I was bewildered and said so.

     "It's not all her fault," he said. "I was on the road too 
much, too eager to make a lot of money, I guess. Anyhow, I came 
back about a day early from a 'Frisco run and found her in bed -- 
with Tod."

     "My cousin?"

     He nodded.

     "Why would a pretty lady like her who was married to a guy 
like you want to do it with an asshole like Tod?"

     He held his hands up about a foot apart. "Tod's got a whanger 
so big, he makes me look like a little boy. Anyhow, I came home, 
heard noises, got my gun, came up, and found her on her hands and 
knees with Tod packing her ass. I put the gun to his head and he 
got instant impotence. Then I threw her out."

     "Was she hurt?"

     "Sure she -- Oh, I see what you mean. No, Brenda always liked 
them big -- the bigger the better."

     I shook my head slowly. "Charlene said some bad things about 
her, but hinted that she'd run away with someone."

     "Well, who likes to hear bad stuff about a brother?"

     "Charlene does. I mean, Tod raped her when she was nine."

     He looked horrified. "No wonder she's a little ... odd. He 
stuck that thing in her when she was nine?" He whistled. "Poor 
kid."

     "I better get going." I stood. "I want to do this again." 

     He shook his head. "Not a good idea."

     "But you liked it -- "

     "Maybe too much. I could get addicted to little girls and 
there are very, very few as mature and sensible and headstrong as 
you are, Marie."

     "I'm out here a lot, you know."

     He stood and put his arm around my shoulders, leading me to 
the door. "We'll see -- but no promises ... even though I want to 
at least as much as you do."

     I put my hand on the hard bar of flesh at the crotch of his 
jeans and squeezed and giggled. "I know you do."

     It took maybe thirty seconds to scamper next door, but in that 
time I had decided there would be no more little boys for me. If 
this was what it was like to fuck a real man, I wanted nothing 
less.

     If I'd known then what I know now, I would have phrased my 
resolution this way: I'm gonna make Lolita look like a nun.
 

 
CHAPTER FIVE
 
     April of that year left in a hurry and most of May hurried, 
too. I didn't get the chance to stay out at Charlene's again right 
away, but I knew Roger hadn't forgotten me. One Saturday morning 
there was a gorgeous little bookcase, just the right size, in the 
driveway beside our house. It was solid mahogany and beautifully 
finished and the card taped to it just said, "An early birthday 
present for a very special young lady." It was signed, only, "A 
secret admirer." I pretended utter ignorance, but sent Roger a 
thank-you note on the sly.

     I didn't get many chances for adventure and I was pretty much 
finished with kids near my age and there weren't any real prospects 
among the older guys or men in the neighborhood. I was walking 
around in a state of constant horniness, relieved only slightly by 
occasional games of stink-fink with Jeanne. That last week of May 
dragged on and Memorial weekend seemed to last forever. Dad went on 
a rampage on Memorial day because, apparently, of my sister, St. 
Alexis the Pure.

     Alexis always went around passing judgment and telling us 
things were wrong or sins. Anything. Everything. And here she'd 
gotten herself caught jerking off some jock in a Dodge. In the 
driveway. We're not talking about a Nobel Laureate here, as you can 
plainly see.
 
     On the next Saturday, good ol' Marty came snuffling around. He 
had his permit and his Dad's old car and offered to take me for a 
drive. Well, sure, I knew what he had in mind, but I was so horny 
at that point, I would've sat on his stickshift. So we went for a 
drive by the Anderson's grain elevator -- romantic, huh? -- and we 
did it and then he drove me home. 
 
     And I was still horny.
 
     Finally, on the third week of June, Dad announced that my 
phantom step-brother was coming to visit. I was determined to 
seduce him -- and I was going to have the chance, because his visit 
was going to coincide with the church fair.
 
     When Dan arrived, Jeanne and I -- we had been exchanging 
fantasies and making plans for two weeks -- were all prepared. We 
were both going to do him. Teeheehee.
 
     He was even better-looking than before; other than that, he 
hadn't changed much. He still sat up till three in the morning, 
reading paperbacks and anything else he could get his hands on. 
We'd been counting on that. Jeanne and I would come creeping 
downstairs at eleven or so, after everyone else was asleep, and sit 
on the floor or the couch -- anywhere we could be sure the light 
would show through our nightgowns. He slept on a pullout in the 
living room and we'd come through there in the middle of the night, 
wearing a pair of panties and, maybe a tee-shirt, maybe not.
 
     He was getting all these nice hard-ons from us, but never did 
anything. So we went to Plan B, which we considered foolproof. 
 
     Three nights before he was supposed to fly back to New York, 
Mom and Dad were going to a pre-carnival dinner for all the 
volunteers, and my brothers were staying at Grandma's and Alexis 
had this Really Big Date. Dan was left to watch over us. At nine 
o'clock, he sent us to take our baths. At nine-thirty -- after we 
had spent most of the time plying Yellow Pages with each other -- I 
called downstairs to him.
 
     This was the foolproof part:
 
     "What's the matter?"
 
     "You have to make sure we're clean."
 
     "What??!!?"
 
     "That's what Mom or Dad always does."
 
     He muttered something and came trudging up the stairs. Jeanne 
and I popped out into the hallway butt-naked and stood there 
wearing shit-eating grins, displaying all of our sleek little 
charms and secret places. Our nipples were hard enough to pierce 
paper when he topped the stairs and turned toward us.
 
     Dan took one look at us, blushed, stared me right in the eye 
and said, "Get dry, get dressed, get to bed -- and don't ever pull 
this shit on me again. Get moving!"
 
     We moved. So much for foolproof plans.
 
     [What? No, I think he liked what he saw. Remember, I had a 
terrific little figure -- 26-19-25 -- and Jeanne was just 
sprouting, so she wasn't too hard to look at, either. But he 
thought of us as "kids" first and "females" second. Seems pretty 
obvious to me.]
 
     Anyhow.
 
     Marty had been calling a couple of times a day and asking me 
to come to this "party." The day after Jeanne and I pulled our 
foolproof plan on Dave, Marty finally admitted what was happening. 
Y'see, Marty was junior varsity football at Rossford High and he 
was trying to buddy up to the in-crowd with the varsity. The party 
was going to consist of Marty, three guys from the varsity -- and 
me. Get the picture? 
 
     Right: a gangbang. 
 
     I told him to call Dana --  since that was more her speed -- 
but he said No, he wanted me to do it. He started to get real pushy 
about it. It upset me, but I didn't tell anyone.
 
     So the next evening, about five-thirty, I was out on the front 
porch with Lisa and Dan was sitting there reading the Toledo Blade. 
Marty pulled up with his three would-be buddies. Marty and one of 
them -- Eric, the halfback -- got out and came up on the the porch 
with him. Marty had filled out and Eric was just big. I remember 
there were clouds coming in and the wind had stopped. I could feel 
the thunder in the sky, just waiting to start.
 
     I introduced Marty to Dan -- he just waved and went back to 
the his sports pages; he was a real baseball nut -- and Marty 
introduced Eric to Lisa and Dave and me. Eric was wearing a muscle 
tee-shirt and he had the right to wear it. I was wearing a pair of 
shorts that were too small and a loose blue pullover. I was wishing 
I'd worn a bra, since my nipples were hard and pushing against the 
fabric.
 
     "Well, are you going to come with us to the party?" Marty 
asked.
 
     I told him the same thing I'd said on the phone: "I don't want 
to, Marty. Get someone else to play with you."
 
     "We want YOU," Marty said.
 
     "Cute girl like you could have a real good time with us," Eric 
said.
 
     Dan turned the page on the sports section.
 
     "I just don't want to," I said.
 
     "Sure you do," Eric said. He was staring right at my tits.
 
     Dan folded the paper and set it down on the floorboards of the 
porch.
 
     "No, I don't!" I said. "Why don't you guys go on to your old 
party and just leave me alone?"
 
     Marty put his hand on my arm, just above the elbow and started 
to lean toward me, whispering something. I shook free and backed 
away. "I think you better go, Marty."
 
     Dan was sitting there with his feet up on the porch rail and 
his hands folded across his stomach, just watching us. I was 
backing up and backed right into Eric. He grabbed my forearms from 
behind and pulled me back against him. I felt his dick rubbing 
against me. I tried to get loose. He didn't get shaken off as  
easily as Marty.
 
     "She said to let her go." 
 
     Dan was standing and he was close. The top of his head was 
barely even with Eric's chin.
 
     Eric turned toward him, still holding my forearm in one hand.
 
     "You're not being polite," Dan said.
 
     "And what're you -- "
 
     He never finished what he was saying. I was maybe a foot away 
when Dan hit Eric in the face. It was a weird, short punch so fast 
that I hardly saw his hand move and didn't even really see the 
punch. Later I learned it was some kind of karate punch. At the 
time, though, all I knew was that Eric was staggering back with 
blood all over his face. He went back about two steps and fell flat 
on his ass, just sitting there looking dumb. 
 
     Dan turned on one foot and kicked Marty's ankles out from 
under him. Marty went down. One of the other guys -- I think it was 
Mark -- was out of the car and running up the porch steps. Dan 
grabbed one of the aluminum lawn chairs we used on the porch and 
scooped it underhand at him. Mark put his hands up to deflect the 
chair and Dan kicked him in the knee. Something cracked and Mark 
fell down. 
 
     Eric was up again and Dan hit him backhanded with his fist, 
right across the face and that was it for Eric. The last guy, 
Timmy, was coming up the stairs at the same time Marty was getting 
up. Dan's back was to him, so I don't know how he knew, but when 
Marty tried to tackle him, Dan just kind of half-turned, caught 
Marty's arm and helped him keep going -- right off the end of the 
porch. I think he was trying to throw Marty into Timmy, but Tim 
side-stepped.
 
     "Let's get it on, motherfucker," Dan said and stepped toward 
him. Tim started to raise his hands. Dan hit him five times real 
fast: in the face with his open palm, then a punch in the stomach, 
then another punch low -- right in his balls -- then another punch 
high in the belly and then he hit him square in the face with 
another punch that went so fast I hardly saw it.
 
     Now, I knew Dan lived in a bad neighborhood in Brooklyn and I 
knew he'd studied judo or karate or something, but he was always so 
nice and patient, and always trying to mollify people that -- well, 
I never expected anything like this. I'd even figured him for some 
kind of chicken, 'cause he always tried so hard to avoid trouble. 
The whole thing hadn't lasted more than thirty seconds. There were 
high school athletes all over the place and they were all hurt.
 
     Lisa just sat there on the porch railing, staring.
 
     Marty was out cold where he'd landed and Tim was the same. 
Mark just lay there holding the knee and crying. Eric finally 
managed to stand on the third or fourth try and said he was going 
to call the police.
 
     "Yeah," Dan said. "Call the cops. Tell them how four football 
heroes got jumped by one bookworm from Brooklyn and got the shit 
kicked out them. And don't forget to mention the four jocks were 
trying to force an eleven-year-old girl to go to a 'party' with 
them." He threw a dime on the porch floor in front of Eric. "Go on. 
Call them." He laughed. "Asshole." He laughed again. I never want 
to hear anyone make that particular sound again; it was like 
listening to Hell enjoying a cruel practical joke.
 
     Tim and Marty were coming around. With Eric, they got Mark in 
the car and left. Marty backed into a trash can with the Challenger 
on the way out of the driveway.
 
     Jeanne stuck her head out of the door -- she'd been upstairs 
taking a shower; I never knew anyone who took so many showers -- 
and asked, "Hey, you guys -- what's all the noise?"
 
     Dan had retrieved the aluminum chair and was just sitting down 
again. "Chair fell," he said and started reading the paper again.
 
     Lisa was still staring.
 
     Jeanne said, "Oh," and went back inside. I went to Lisa and 
touched her arm. She shivered and said, "I think I'm gonna be 
sick."
 
     "Great," Dan said, not looking up. Lisa slid off the rail and 
scampered off the porch, heading for home. 
 
     I turned to my phantom step-brother.
 
     "I don't want you or Lisa blabbing about this," he said, 
without looking up.
 
     "What do you mean?"
 
     "Just what I said. They're not going to tell anyone what 
happened and if you and Lisa keep your mouths shut, this'll be the 
end of it."
 
     "But -- "
 
     "But nothing. If you start talking about it, though, your 
ferocious foursome will have to get even -- and since I won't be 
here all the time, they'll take it out on you. Just shut up about 
it. Got it?"
 
     He looked up at me. I nodded, went to him, threw my arms 
around him and gave him a big kiss, right on the lips. Then I ran 
into the house and stayed in the bathroom for about an hour, just 
shaking.
 
     I saw some of them around town after that and I saw Marty in 
school, but none of them ever said a word to me. I always returned 
the favor. Later I found out they'd explained their injuries as 
being the result of horsing around playing basketball at Navarre 
park.
 
     What was kind of funny, though, was they were all cute and I 
was so horny and frustrated, I would've gone with any of them or 
even all of them if they hadn't been such damn animals about it. 
After a week -- and Dan had gone back to New York for another year 
-- I was fantasizing about what it might have been like and kind of 
regretting the missed opportunity. But over July Fourth weekend, 
Dad borrowed Uncle Charlie's summer house on Kelly's Island and 
took us all out there and I got the chance to find out what it was 
like to pull a train.
 
     Kelly's Island is out in Lake Erie. You get there by a ferry 
from near Port Clinton. In the winter, when the lake is really 
frozen, sometimes you can get there by sled or ice boat or even 
car, but every year a couple of dweebs go through the ice and drown 
while they try that. 
 
     It's some sort of national park -- at least part of it is -- 
and there's all this stuff left over from when the glaciers gouged 
the Great Lakes out of the continent. It's very quiet, very 
pretty...and very dull -- to a young person with an active libido.
 
     I was less than thrilled by the time we got to the house, a 
big ol' place about halfway up a hill and looking northeast over 
the lake. Dad and Mom were doing Dad-and-Mom stuff -- Mom was 
cleaning and organizing and Dad was looking for things to fix. My 
little brothers had discovered a treehouse and were as happy as 
'coons in a garbage dump. Jeanne loved that nature stuff and 
immediately headed out for the wildlife trails. Alexis, with her 
blonde hair and big ass, had gotten herself picked up by some 
lumbering islander on the ferry; he had a red Mustang convertible, 
so she had everything she needed.
 
     All I had was an itch and two weeks of boredom to look forward 
to. Or so I thought.
 
     The house was against the side of a steep hill. Above us was 
all forest and the top of the hill was part of the national park-
land, so it was pretty much deserted. It was a good place to get 
away from Mom's nagging and Dad's cussing and my brothers' shouting 
and bickering. There was a very faint trail climbing up the hill in 
a series of cutbacks. 
 
     I was wearing some cutoff jeans -- these were cut just above 
my knees -- and I'd filched one of Alexis's halter tops. It fit, 
which was a nice change of pace for me, since I'd started sprouting 
again. I'd thought about shopping for a real swimsuit, but when I 
measured myself, I was up to 27-19-25. So much for a real swimsuit.
 
     About two-thirds of the way to the top, a dog suddenly 
appeared from the bush. He wasn't very big and he was purebred mutt 
with a lot of basset in him. He stopped, looked at me, then wagged 
his tail and came right over, his great big eyes looking up at me. 
I let him sniff my hand and whine and when he rubbed his head 
against my fingers, I started scratching around his ears and under 
his jowls. His tail wagged even more. We chased each other up the 
trail a little and then he barked once, in enthusiasm. He didn't 
have a collar, and I kind of hoped he was a stray. He was a neat 
dog.
 
     Then someone whistled form the cliff. He barked once at me and 
started scooting up the trail. I followed.
 
     Just as I huffed past the top of the trail, I saw about a 
half-dozen kids on blankets. The kids looked like they were about 
sixteen or so, some older, some -- the girls -- maybe a little 
younger. The dog was with one of the guys, who was watching me.
 
     I said Hi and introduced myself and told him what a neat dog 
he had.
 
     His name was Ike. He and the other kids there lived on the 
island. He was about a foot taller than me and not bad looking, but 
boy, did he have a built on him! The fact that he was shirtless 
made it hard to miss, too. 
 
     They invited me to hang out with them and I was glad they did, 
since it meant some variation at least. The boys all checked me out 
-- so did the girls -- but no one came on to me ... then. The girls 
seemed a little stand-offish. That made sense. Kelly's Island isn't 
big and in a place like that, when the girls get paired off with 
boyfriends, they don't want newcomers to upset the balance of 
things. But when they found out I wasn't going to be twelve for a 
couple of weeks, most of them relaxed. One of them, Reenie -- her 
real name was Maureen -- offered to meet me at the house the next 
day and show me a short cut. I thought that was nice.
 
     Reenie was sixteen and had a nice face and real dark, straight 
hair -- she said her great-grandmother was an Indian -- but the 
most noticeable things about her were her tits. She had these huge 
boobs, I mean, they had to be as big as cantaloupes. When she came 
to the house to call for me, Dad kept staring at her tits like he'd 
never seen breasts before. As we were walking to the shortcut, I 
warned her as much as I dared about Dad. I told her he was going to 
be grabbing at her tits if he got her alone -- Dad was notorious 
for that, especially if he'd had a couple of beers.
 
     She looked at me and said, "You know, it's hard to believe 
you're only twelve."
 
     I smiled and said that was the way it was.
 
     She told me that when she was my age, her tits were bigger 
than mine, but she was also taller. And she confided that she'd 
found the attention her figure got from boys was an interesting 
diversion from what had become a pretty boring routine.
 
     Since it was tell-all time, I took the bait and revealed that 
I was not exactly a little innocent. She set the hook and reeled me 
in and I told her a little of my exploits. She told me a little of 
hers, but not much.
 
     The same group was there plus a few more. Boys now outnumbered 
girls. I figured I'd better play it safe and not mess around, and 
assumed that all the boys were spoken for; no flirting by me, no 
siree bob.
 
     Some of the boys were throwing a softball around and a couple 
of the girls were playing cards and it was nice. We all just laid 
around in the sunshine and enjoyed each other's company. From time 
to time, I noticed Reenie talking privately to one or two of the 
girls. From the way they looked at me after the chats, I knew what 
she'd told them. I didn't really mind, not even when I noticed some 
of the boys started looking at me different, too, after the girls 
talked to them. 
 
     Later in the afternoon, a couple of couples paired off and 
were making out under an old elm. They were going at it pretty hot 
and heavy. One of the boys, Vernon, had been rubbing his 
girlfriend's rather scrawny tit and he was moving the other hand 
down between her legs. Ellen didn't stop him when he started 
rubbing her off through her shorts. She was so skinny that her brown 
legs were like two pipes sticking out of her shorts. There was 
enough room for him to get his fingers inside one leg of the shorts 
-- and he did. I knew from the way she was moving and he was moving 
that he was fingering her. They kept it up till she came, then he 
stood and led her by the hand back into the woods.
 
     Reenie said something like "Those two are like rabbits." She 
looked at me and grinned a little crookedly. 
 
     I nodded and said, "Lucky her; at least she's got a boyfriend 
with her." Then I looked at the cards in my hand and rummied the 
straight flush someone had played earlier.
 
     On the way back to my house, Reenie told me they were going to 
have a little weenie roast that night and I was welcome to come. 
She said almost everyone would be there, including some kids I 
hadn't met. She said that since it was going to be full moon, they 
might go for a swim in a pond back in the woods.
 
     It sounded great and I agreed.
 
     When Reenie came for me at the house, it was almost six-
thirty. Mom and Dad had been drinking Blatz all afternoon and I 
knew they were going to be asleep early, which meant my brothers 
were going to be put to bed early. Alexis was, as usual, Out and 
Jeanne was in the bathroom, trying to drain the cistern -- as 
usual. I knew what she was really doing in there, but What the 
hell?
 
     When we got to the top, it was just getting dark. There were 
about fifteen kids there. Someone had built a real careful campfire 
in a depression scooped out of the dirt and a couple of kids were 
roasting weenies and marshmallows on sticks. Most of the kids were 
availing themselves of the beer someone had brought -- a couple of 
cases of Blatz and Carling. Vernon and Ellen were making out. 
 
     I ate a frank and a couple of marshmallows. There was no soda, 
so I washed it down with cold beer. Ike was kind of hanging around 
me and there were these little touches now and then -- you know, on 
my wrist or my shoulder -- and when I went into the bushes to take 
a leak, I asked Reenie who his girlfriend was. She said she guessed 
she was, but said she and Ike weren't Like That and not to worry 
about it; cookout nights were special. She wouldn't explain more, 
but promised that if I stuck around, I'd understand.
 
     When I got back to the group, all ready to let Ike give me 
some enjoyment, I found that he and about half of the others had gone 
off for their swim. I was wearing Alexis's swimtop and my bottoms 
under my shorts and windbreaker -- it got cool out there on the 
lake, even in midsummer -- so I was prepared. I followed the sounds 
of splashing till I got to the pond.
 
     The swimsuit was not appropriate attire; birthday suits were 
the order of the day.
 
     I hesitated, but someone -- one of the guys -- yelled, "Come 
on, little girl! Don't be shy!"
 
     I peeled out of my clothes and when I took the halter off, I 
heard a girl giggle and say, "Little?"
 
     I stripped off the bottoms and went to the edge of the pond. 
One of the guys warned me not to dive because the pond bottom was 
uneven, so I waded in and struck out in a shallow crawl stroke 
toward the others. The pond was about eighty feet across and almost 
round. The far side of it was shrouded in shadows from overhanging 
trees. The others were in the middle of the pond. Ike was a little 
farther out, where it was deeper. He waved me toward him.
 
     The main bunch was in water about waist deep or a little more. 
As I swam past, someone reached out and ran a hand down my back to 
my butt and gave one cheek a little squeeze.
 
     Just Ike's head and shoulders were above the water when I 
reached him. "Ever been skinny-dipping before?"
 
     "Not since I was a little kid," I said.
 
     "From what I saw, you're no little kid any more."
 
     "And from what you've heard."
 
     He nodded and grinned.
 
     "You guys do this a lot?"
 
     "Every couple of weeks in summer. Weather's got to be right 
and there has to be enough moonlight and no Scout troops." He 
laughed. "We really upset a troop last summer. They kind of 
stumbled upon us."
 
     I'd been treading water for a couple of minutes at that point. 
"You getting tired?" he asked.
 
     "A little," I admitted.
 
     He grinned and then I felt his hands on my waist. He pulled me 
closer until I was pressed against him. He kissed me and I was all 
for it. I wrapped my legs around his hard waist and my arms around 
his neck. He slid his hands down to cup my butt and ground me 
against him. I felt the hard ridges of muscle on his abdomen 
rubbing my clit. I was getting awfully hot. I scooted my behind 
down a little and, sure enough, I felt something smooth and hard 
bump against the little strip of flesh between my butt-hole and my 
pussy. Unfortunately, I was so much shorter than him that I 
couldn't possibly think about going farther without developing 
gills; my head would've been underwater.
 
     "Can we go someplace a little drier?" I asked.
 
     "Sure -- other side of the pond. Can you swim it?"
 
     I kissed him and nodded, then we disentangled and I turned to 
swim. He grabbed my ankles and gave me a push that sent me a good 
third of the way to the far side of the pond. I swam till my feet 
touched bottom, but he swam past me and was standing before I was. 
What a gorgeous sight he was, with that great body glistening in 
the moonlight. His cock was as long as Roger's had been, maybe 
eight inches, but not as thick. Certainly as hard, though. He held 
his hand out to me. I took it and stood and he led me out of the 
water and into the dark woods beyond. There were some hoots from 
behind us. I ignored them. 
 
     I suppose in daylight and wearing shoes it would've taken 
about two minutes, but dressed as we weren't and by moonlight, the 
twisty path took about ten minutes.
 
     "Almost there," he whispered. We were approaching what looked 
like an impenetrable wall of bushes.
 
     "I hear something," I said. "Someone -- "
 
     "It's okay." He put his hand on my butt and pushed aside some 
of the brush and urged me through.
 
     There were a couple of old mattresses on the ground inside the 
ring of brush. Old sheets were on the mattresses. A couple was on 
one of the sheets. Ellen and Vernon; no surprise.
 
     I stopped and stared. Ellen was on her back under Vernon, her 
skinny legs bent back till her ankles were next to her ears. Her 
hairy cunt was pointed up and Vernon's dick was pumping in and out 
like crazy. From the amount of juices on the sheet and on her ass, 
I guessed that they hadn't just arrived.
 
     I already wanted Ike desperately, but what he did then 
absolutely bound me to him. He bent and put his lips next to my 
ear, brushed back my wet hair and whispered, "If you want to  
change your mind, it's okay to do it now and no one's going to rag 
you for it; I guarantee that. But if you want to stop, now is the 
time. Okay?"
 
     I turned and kissed him on the lips and grabbed his rigid 
dick. "Now is the time, alright." I dropped to my knees and pulled 
his dick into my mouth and started sucking as hard as I could. He 
groaned and put his hands on the sides of my face -- lightly, not 
forcing. I didn't want to suck him off, at least not right then. I 
wanted that hard cock in my pussy, scratching my itch. He didn't 
try to stop me when I pulled back. I led him, dick-wise, to one of 
the vacant mattresses and lay down. 
 
     He lay beside me and kissed me for a while. We were caressing 
each other and then he bent down and started feasting on my tits. 
He kept stopping to tell me how perfect and firm and beautiful my 
tits were. Then he licked his way down my belly and licked my 
thighs and then he put his face between my legs. 
 
     "Hey! You don't have any hair down here!"
 
     "Not so you'd notice," I said, rubbing my palms over my 
swollen nipples.
 
     "Believe me, I'm in a position to notice." He chuckled. 
 
     I chuckled, too, but then his tongue ran slowly from my 
asshole all the way up my pussy lips to my clit and I stopped 
chuckling and started gasping. That boy knew how to eat! And the 
way he did it betrayed genuine enthusiasm. 
 
     After about five minutes and five little orgasms, I pulled his 
face out of my cunt and dragged him up over me. I locked my legs 
around his waist and felt his dick head bumping around the area of 
my pussy, seeking the opening. I'd loved the way he ate me, but 
Jeanne could eat me just as well. What Jeanne couldn't do was slide 
a nice hard dick up my hungry little pussy and that's what I 
wanted.
 
     He kept prodding and kept missing and I kept trying to catch 
his prick in my pussy, to no avail. Finally, I reached around and 
under and took matters into my own fingers. I guided his cock to 
the entrance, wriggled my hips till it was wedged securely, and 
then put my arms around his neck and whispered, "Fuck me, Ike!"
 
     He was trying to ram me, but I was so little and tight that 
the going was too slow for either of us. I crossed my ankles behind 
his butt and hunched up at him, pulling myself onto his rigid cock 
as he pushed down into me. He glans slid inside and he gasped.
 
     "You're so tight! Are you a virgin?"
 
     "Not by a long shot! Just fuck me!"
 
     Well that was what he did. He hooked his hands over my 
shoulders, resting most of his upper body weight on his elbows -- 
sparing me -- and started pumping. I was wet and tight, but he was 
wet and he was also hard and strong and he was moving his dick like 
a piston in me. I could hear the wet sucking noises my pussy made 
around his hard dick. Even with his moaning and my gasping, I could 
hear it.
 
     He pumped faster and faster. I hadn't cum yet, but I was going 
to soon -- and it was going to be a big one. I could feel it 
building in my belly, kind of coiling there like a big spring.
 
     "I gotta -- gotta cum in you!" he hissed. He fell forward 
slightly, burying his prick in me. Our pubic bones were touching 
and he was pressing my clittie, too. I felt his balls slap on my 
upturned ass, into all the overflowing juices in the crack there. 
"Cumming -- cumming -- " he coughed.
 
     That did it for me. I locked around him and felt my vagina 
start its squeezing and spasming. He howled and poured his jism 
into me. I could feel his dick swell with each spurt and that just 
sent me higher. Usually, I just get all clenched up and frozen when 
I come, but this time my hips started shaking against him and as 
tight as my cunt was, it must have felt to him like -- 
 
     "Your cunt is sucking me! Damn!"
 
     He half-collapsed onto me, his dick shriveling out of my 
clutches. He rolled onto his back, rolling me with him to keep his 
dick inside. I settled down onto his dwindling dick as much as I 
could and rested my head against his chest. He kissed the top of my 
head and ran his hands over me.
 
     "I want to do it again, when you rest," I said. "I came so 
hard..."
 
     "Why wait till he rests?" said a voice. A girl's voice.
 

 
CHAPTER SIX
     I opened my eyes wide and looked up. A hard dick was throbbing 
above my head. I looked up farther. It was Vernon.

     "I mean, Vernon is ready if you are."

     To one side stood Ellen, juice coating the insides of her 
thighs and matting her thatch of thick pubic hair.

     "But you -- "

     "Believe me, honey, Vernon is always ready! You won't wear him 
out!" She laughed. "Besides, Vern's been telling me he was wanking 
off last night imagining what you'd be like and that just made him 
hotter with me. Have fun -- I'm going to get some beers!"

     Vern started to kneel but Ike told him to back off; he didn't 
want Vern's balls right over his face. I crawled off Ike and looked 
a question at him.

     "It's okay with me," he said, "as long as you don't freeze me 
out!"

     "No chance."

     Ike grinned and winked. 

     I knelt upright and pulled Vern's dick into my mouth., I 
tasted his juice and Ellen's on it. I didn't mind the taste, and 
the idea of it turned me on even more. Ike got himself on his back 
again and slithered forward till he had his face between my legs. 
He pulled my butt down till my cunt was in his mouth and started 
licking and sucking me some more. That just made me lick and suck 
good ol' Vern even more urgently. It wasn't long before my lips had 
Vern moaning and Ike's tongue had me moaning.

     Vern wanted to do it doggy style, which was new to me. Ike 
scuttled out of the way and Vern turned me onto my hands and knees 
and knelt behind me. My cunt was dripping and his cock was hard and 
he rammed right into me and started pounding. Ike stayed out of the 
way except to reach out and play with my nipples a little.

     Vern was hanging onto my hips and slamming into me and I was 
just rotating my bottom so his cock was always hitting in different 
places. I came a couple of times and then my arms just wouldn't 
hold me up any more, so I let my shoulders go down flat on the 
mattress. At that angle, Vern got even deeper into me. Then I felt 
his finger at my butt, but I was so busy cumming I didn't protest 
and to my surprise, it didn't hurt when it slid inside. In fact, I 
came some more, because it closed my cunt more around his cock -- 
as if my cunt wasn't tight enough already!

     But that extra tightness and my cumming put Vern over the edge 
and he came in me and pulled out. My butt settled onto my heels and 
I crouched them, just savoring the little aftershock orgasms. I 
looked up wide-eyed at the sounds of movement in the brush around 
us and saw most of the other kids were there. A few were couples 
busily coupling, but a lot of the others were just watching. 

     Ike was sitting crosslegged a few feet a way. His gorgeous 
cock was stiff again. "I want you again," I croaked.

     "Are we letting her join?" someone -- Reenie -- asked aloud.

     "I guess so," Ellen answered.

     "Yeah," said Ike. "Let's do it."

     "What -- ?" I asked.

     "You want to do it again?" Ike asked.

     "Oh, yesss...."

     "It won't be my turn though. Okay?"

     "Turn?"

     I suddenly understood.

     He was watching me. The thought of all those cocks -- !

     I reached between my legs and rubbed my pussy. "Do me," I 
whispered.

     Ike nodded to whoever was behind me, who then knelt, lifted my 
hips and fit his cock into me. I was plenty wet on my own and had 
two loads dumped in there and he slid right in. I groaned and kept 
my hand on my clit as he pumped me. I came again, a couple of 
times, then he did, too, and then someone else was sliding into me.

     "See, there's not many people our age on the island," Ike was 
explaining. He was stroking his cock and watching me get fucked 
at the same time -- and he was talking as if he were explaining how 
to change a tire. "Reenie and I went together when we were twelve--"

     "And went -- and went --" Reenie said, and laughed.

     "But then I got mixed up with Helene and she started messing 
with Vern and then I got mixed up with Jill and she started 
throwing it to Bobby and Vern was doing it with Helene. And what 
was funny was we didn't stay jealous very long. When Bobby popped 
Ellen, she went and talked to Reenie and Reenie said it was okay 
and pretty soon, none of us really got jealous when whoever we were 
going with started messing with someone else -- from our group."

     The guy behind me came in me. Ike paused, watching me cum. I 
couldn't believe this was happening.

     "But someone came in here about two years ago -- "

     "Me!" called a pudgy girl. Doris, I think her name was.

     "And she got all upset when Vern -- "

     "Who else?" Ellen cracked.

     "Went for an old-times'-sake roll with Helene. So Vern had 
this great idea and explained it to her."

     "And now," said Reenie, kneeling beside me and caressing my 
face as I came yet again, "if someone new wants to play with any 
of us, you have to play with all of us. Helps keep anyone from 
getting possessive." She trailed her fingers down and trilled her 
nails over the side of my breast where it was pressed out by my 
weight on it. I shivered and came again.

     My cunt was vacant and I resented it. "More, please?"

     "Maybe it'd be better if -- well, I'd really like to be sucked 
off," someone said. "Do you mind?"

     "I want to cum some more, too," I said.

     "No problem," said Reenie. She rolled me onto my side and 
started kissing and licking my cunt. Another pair of lips started 
kissing my butt and then a tongue was burrowing in between. "You 
have such a pretty little ass," Ike said from behind me.

     "Okay?" said a voice as I shivered through another orgasm from 
what Reenie was doing. A boy -- Bobby -- was laying on his side so 
his cock was presented to my mouth. It was enormous, as long as 
Roger's, but even thicker. I got most of the head in my mouth 
and sucked as hard as I could, considering my concentration was 
being ruined by the mouth on my cunt and the tongue tracing my ass, 
and the hand -- Reenie's -- that had come up to caress my tits. 

     I put one hand on the shaft of Bobby's cock. I couldn't close 
my fingers around it. I pumped and stroked though, and it wasn't 
long before he was cumming. He'd been so sweet about it that I kept 
sucking when he flooded me with that hot, thick custard, and 
swallowed as much as I could. He came a lot and the idea of what I 
was doing drove me higher. I was absolutely stoned on sex.

     I don't know how many times I came that night. I do know that 
I passed out a couple of times but -- I was told -- I kept cumming 
even then. A couple of the girls ate me out and I ate them out and 
Vern stuck his tongue into my butt as much as he could. Most 
of the other girls got fucked, too. I know I fucked all the guys at 
least twice and some came back for thirdsies. And I loved every 
minute of it. 

     For a while, I was getting fucked from behind by one guy 
while I sucked another one. After a bit I was too far gone to suck 
much, so I just let them move their cocks between my lips and when 
the one in my cunt came, the one in my mouth would move back there 
and another cock would be presented to my lips. Bobby, of course, 
came in my mouth every time. At one point I was being fucked from 
behind while I ate Reenie. That was so exciting it almost makes me 
cum just to think about it, especially since at the same time, she 
was sucking off -- who else? -- Bobby.

     Then came the most memorable part of all. Someone -- I think 
it was Walt -- pulled out as he was cumming and dumped his goo all 
over my butt. He held his cock right against my anus, not trying to 
probe, and let it squirt right on the opening. I didn't understand, 
but at that stage I wouldn't have understood instructions for 
dialing a telephone number. All I knew was that I was cumming 
almost constantly and I never wanted it to stop. My mouth was 
tired, my pussy was sore, but I wanted more!

     I got it. Oh, boy, did I get it!

     Ike lay on his back beside me and pulled me on top of him. He 
kissed me on the mouth, long and deep, right into all the sperm 
(mostly Bobby's) that had been dumped there as if he could care 
less, as if what mattered was kissing me. my legs slipped apart and 
I felt his cock against my thigh. I scooted down a little and he 
slid into me and I groaned as I settled down on it.

     I had my arms around his neck and was pressed flat against 
him, just our hips moving and me, of course, cumming, when I felt 
someone kneeling back there. I felt a hard dick against my ass and 
knew what was coming. I wasn't sure but -- 

     "Are you ready for this?" Ike asked.

     "Anything," I whispered. Ike nodded and pulled my ass cheeks 
apart and pulled me down onto him.

     "I've been wanting that beautiful little ass of yours since I 
first saw you," Vern said from behind and above me.

     Ike stayed still in my cunt -- which was not staying still on 
him -- as Vern put the head of his dick against my tight little 
butt-hole. I stiffened, not sure about the discomfort. I tried to 
relax and open my butt and Vern pressed down and in a little. As my 
anus was forced open, my pussy squeezed Ike's dick and it twitched 
inside me. That felt good -- all the better for the extra 
compression.

     "Do it, Vern," I croaked as loud as I could. "But slow and 
easy." For the moment, my orgasms had stopped.

     Vern did it. He pushed a little more. I thought my ass was 
going to split -- and then the head of his dick popped past the 
sphincters.

     "Hold it right there for a minute," I gasped. I could feel the 
two dicks, hard and ready and eager. I tried to relax again, with 
little success, but after a few seconds I whispered, "Slow and 
easy."

     Vern did it just that way, too -- slow and easy. But also 
nonstop. His implacable shaft slid steadily into me, probing deeper 
and deeper. I was grateful now for the load Walt had shot on my 
ass; it lubricated Vern's prick for the tight passage it was 
spreading. When he was halfway in I started groaning, a long sound 
that continued till I felt his pubic hair against my butt.

     "Just hold still for a minute, both of you, 'kay?"

     "Sure, baby," Ike said and kissed the top of my head. 

     I moved my hips just a little, kind of an experiment. It 
didn't hurt but it wasn't comfortable yet, either. But I could feel 
those two hard young pricks buried to the bone in me, pressing 
against each other through the little membrane separating the 
parallel channels. I felt absolutely stuffed, fore and aft.

     "Careful, now," I said. 

     Vern moved a little, maybe a half-inch, but I felt it as if it 
was a foot. I also felt the way it moved the compression of my cunt 
on Ike's dick, which twitched in response and sent a little shudder 
of pleasure through me. Ike moved his hips a little so his dick 
slid halfway out, then he pushed it all the way back in again.

     "You're so tight!" he gasped at me. "I don't think I can hold 

it!"
     I kissed his nipple and nipped it lightly with my teeth. 
"Don't hold it," I said. "Fuck me hard."

     Well, he did, but Vernon thought I'd been talking to him, too. 
He pulled back till his glans was hung up on my sphincter and then 
he rammed into me. I bit Ike's chest -- tasted blood -- trying to 
stifle my scream. My cunt and ass tightened on both pricks.

     Ike was fucking in and out of me like a madman, moaning about 
how tight and hot and wet I was. Vern pulled back again and drove 
his cock into my ass. Again I bit Ike's chest and Vern moved 
faster and faster and then, suddenly, I started to have an orgasm.

     It was amazing, like breaking through to someplace new! I came 
and came and came and those two hard young cocks pumped me from 
both sides, stretching and reaming me and filling me. Vern fell 
flat atop me, adding his weight to mine on Ike, and flailed away, 
fucking my ass with short, hard little strokes as if he were 
pumping a cunt. Ike was sawing his longer dick in and out of my 
cunt. At one point they were syncopated, one moving in while the 
other moved out. Then they were coordinated, plundering my little 
body in unison. 

     And I kept cumming and cumming, uncontrollably, sobbing and 
whimpering.

     Then Vern started shaking. "I'm gonna cum, buddy!" he gasped.

     "Both -- cum -- in me -- " I choked out between spasms.

     That did it for Ike, too. Both of them began pumping in short 
little strokes, violent strokes, pounding their swelling, twitching 
dicks into me as far as they'd go, which seemed pretty damn far. 
Then Vern -- and then Ike -- hunched against me. I could feel two 
sets of balls against my thighs, two pubic mats against me, and 
then, two cocks jerking and throbbing and flooding me. I felt 
Vern's juices flooding my bowels and I felt Ike's cock swelling in 
my cunt and knew he was spurting in there and all the orgasms and 
horniness rolled up inside me and let go at once. I locked up, 
frozen, between and around them and came harder and harder and 
harder, a single orgasm that just kept getting more intense. With my 
cum-drenched little body sandwiched between the two big sixteen-
year-olds, I just kept cumming until, finally, everything was one 
big orgasm and I knew nothing but orgasm and then I knew nothing, 'cause 
I finally passed out -- cold.

     When I came to, I was a sandwich again, but no one was inside 
me and I felt firm, lush breasts against my back. Reenie whispered, 
"Are you okay, sweety?"

     I nodded against Ike's shoulder. I couldn't do much more than 
that at the moment. Vern put one of the sheets over us, against the 
cooling night air. My pussy still throbbed, but my butt was numb.

     "Some of us have tried doing that," she said. "Ellen liked it 
a lot. But I've never seen anyone cum like that, not that way." She 
shivered. Her nipples were stiff against my bare back. I wriggled 
against her. She had one hand on my belly. Ike kissed my ear. I 
felt utterly content for the first time. Thoroughly fucked, 
thoroughly sated and now, loved and hugged and valued and caressed 
and cuddled.

     Ike and Reenie and Vern and Ellen helped me get myself cleaned 
up and put together. We sat around and rested. Reenie and Ellen got 
me back to the house around midnight. Everyone else in the house 
was asleep, which was fine by me.

     That was the first time I'd pulled a train and it was the last 
for quite a while. During the rest of the two weeks, I got into 
some more group scenes, once with Helene and Reenie -- as nice as 
it was, I missed cocks -- and once with Ike and Reenie, at Reenie's 
house when the rest of her family was on a shopping expedition on 
the mainland. That was really nice. I think my favorite thing was 
laying on top of Reenie, licking her sweet, luxurious cunt while 
she sucked and nibbled my almost-hairless little slit -- and Ike 
sawed his hard dong slowly in and out. I came constantly, but it 
was wonderfully gentle waves of ecstasy and left me revived rather 
than enervated. Give me a couple -- male and female -- any time.

     Bobby and I got it on alone once, and after I'd sucked him off 
twice, I asked if he ever wanted to just plain ol' fuck. He said, 
Sure, but he wasn't sure about my being able to take his thick 
dick. Well, with patience and perseverance, I did, he did and it 
was fine -- but I was sore for two days, inside and out.

     When we got on the ferry back to Port Clinton, Mom and Dad 
said they were glad I'd made some friends so I wasn't bored. Even 
then I recognized the pun. 

     Alexis cried and Jeanne was silent and the boys were cranky 
and I was just, well, contented. 

     The islanders and I wrote occasionally, but island kids tend 
to leave as soon as they can; there's little future there. In later 
years I encountered a few of them. Ellen became a Moonie after Vern 
was killed in 'Nam and Reenie had joined a commune somewhere in 
Vermont. Ike was killed by a drunk driver on the Ohio Turnpike, 
near Elyria. Most of the others vanished from my life, but left me 
with an absolutely lovely set of memories.

     I did get another shot at Roger that summer and tried to 
buttfuck him -- it was near his birthday -- but he stopped before 
half his fat prickhead was in me. "I want to get in your butt, 
baby," he said, "but not when it'll put hurtin' on you." We found 
some enjoyable alternatives.

     That was over Labor Day Weekend. Then my eighth and last year 
in the prison school started. That was the year Ed Sautter
started the photography club at the high school and I became a 
star.

CHAPTER SEVEN

     Kids from Rossford Junior High -- who were twelve- and thirteen- 
and fourteen-years-old -- had a lot of friends at St. Cornelius, 
because eighth graders in St. Cornelius were twelve and thirteen 
years old. Which meant the older girls from junior high sometimes hung 
out with girls a year or two younger from St. Cornelius, so when 
juniors from Rossford High wanted to hit on girls from the junior 
high, they ending up meeting eighth graders from St. Cornelius, too.
     All of which goes to explain how I met George, who was sixteen 
and a junior, when I was only twelve.
     George was a "Hunky" -- that's the nickname for Hungarians, of 
which there were a lot in Rossford -- and got good grades. He was big 
and blonde and kind of handsome, in a rough-hewn sort of way. He 
didn't set out to pick me up, but he ended up with me one early 
September Saturday when about two dozen kids piled into six or seven 
cars and headed for a concert at Veteran's Stadium. George wanted to 
be an engineer (like my phantom step-brother), liked to read science-
fiction (like my phantom step-brother), played the guitar (like my 
phantom step-brother) and said "please" and "thank you" (like my 
phantom step-brother).
     He was a lot like my phantom step-brother, if you know what I 
mean.
     George was a lineman on the varsity football team and had this 
really wicked, quiet sense of humor (which was like my phantom step-
brother). He drove one of the cars to the concert, but had about four 
beers and didn't think he should drive back. I was impressed. I was 
even more impressed when I ended up sitting on his lap in the crowded 
backseat. I'd had a couple of beers, too, and wanted to make out and 
he kept acting like a gentleman and telling me I was only a kid... 
right up to the time I pulled down my top and stuck a tit in his face 
while squirming on the unconcealable hard-on making a hard tent in the 
crotch of his jeans. Even then he acted like I was a kid, making me 
cover myself and behave.
     I made George a target. Within two weeks, I was spending most of a 
Friday night under the stands at the Rossford High field riding him, 
with his fat cock rammed up my hungry, wet little snatch and his hands 
under my blouse, playing with my nipples. I never met another teenager 
who could hold off cumming as long as George could. Despite the ribbing 
he took for robbing the cradle, George and I remained "an item" for most 
of the first semester and past the end of the football season. That was 
when the photography club became a factor.
     George was interested in photography, enough so that he'd even 
set up a little darkroom in his basement. He talked about the club 
from time to time. To be honest, it didn't interest me and I didn't 
pay much attention. Until that Friday night in late March.
     George had an older brother in the Coast Guard and his family -- 
which was large -- had gone to Cleveland for the weekend to visit his 
brother and some relatives. We had the house to ourselves. I'd 
arranged for Dana Connally to cover for me that I was at her house.
     It was about eleven at night. George had already drunk about five 
beers and I'd had a couple, myself. We were touring the house -- with 
a difference. For one thing, we were naked. For another, I had my legs 
around his waist and his nice fat prick buried in me. George was so 
big -- he was about six-foot-two and two hundred pounds and lifted 
weights -- he was just carrying me around the house.
     "This is the kitchen!" And he'd rest my bare butt on the 
countertop and fuck in and out of me till I'd cum once or twice and 
then: "And this is the dining room!" And he'd repeat the procedure on 
the dining-room table. 
     Of course, I contributed: "But isn't the dining room where you're 
supposed to eat?"
     At which point he'd pull out of me, munch on my cunt -- I had 
just a hint of hair there -- and then plough my furrow again and we'd 
continue the tour.
     "This is the living room!" On the stereo and television cabinets.
     "This is bathroom!" On the vanity.
     Et cetera.
     He finally came in me in the basement, in the darkroom. For a guy 
who could last so long, he didn't shoot very much stuff. Not that I 
minded. What was important was the look on his face after we caught our 
breath: He was frowning.
     "Why are you frowning?"
     He shrugged. "I still don't know what I'm going to do for the 
show," he said. Ed Sautter had scheduled a school-year's-end show of 
the photography club's work.
     I stretched my arms over my head -- I was laying on the 
countertop where George usually cropped his photographs -- and said, 
"Well, how about a nude study?"
     He laughed with me, but then he stopped and stared at me. 
"Y'know, maybe -- "
     I held my hands up, palms toward him. "Forget it."
     He shook his head. "No face; just nude torso in black and white. 
I'll let you proof the negatives."
     I sat up on the counter. "Are you serious?"
     George nodded. "Ed -- " Ed Sautter was a member of that new and 
informal generation of teachers. He'd been hired to teach English Lit; 
for his kids in the Lense Club, his first name was available. " -- Ed 
says if someone comes up with a really good nude study, he'll fight 
to get it in the show."
     Well, to make a long story short, I agreed. What the hell, huh? 
None of the negatives had my face in them, so who would know? We shot 
them with a flash that night and by daylight the next morning. The 
best ones were with me on the coffee table in the living room. They 
were tight focus from just the hint of my pubis to my shoulders, with 
the angle of the morning light highlighting the flat plane of my 
stomach, the clear definition of my ribcage and below, just the hint 
of swelling for my hips. My breasts were firm and rounded and my 
nipples were hard -- George said professionals use ice cubes, but we 
used something else to get them hard and keep them that way. 
     It was a stunning series of relief shots. Some of them were lovely; 
I still have them. The best were so good that they weren't even erotic; 
they were just beautiful -- a healthy, firm-bodied young woman 
blossoming into womanhood (in black and white) against the rich grain of 
the oak coffee table's surface. I still look at them and don't see 
myself or sex. They were really quite good.
     Sautter was true to his word; he exhibited the best ones and 
almost got himself fired.
     The problem came when someone noted that the edge of a National 
Geographic -- not the date, but part of the logo -- was visible, on the 
coffee table,  measured it against the nude torso, did some fast math to 
get the measurements of said (my) torso, noted the lack of abundant 
pubic hair...
     ...and figured out who the model was.
     The word got around in certain circles very quickly. There was a 
lot of Talk. Then Sautter had his confrontation with the Powers That Be 
and finally compromised, agreeing to exhibit the nudes in the faculty 
lounge, to protect the young people of Rossford and the Model.
     Funny, but I didn't think I needed protecting. Hell, I'd done the 
pictures, hadn't I? 
     Well, the whole thing began to outgrow itself and pretty soon, 
George was getting a lot of pressure to reveal the name of the woman 
in the pictures. George refused. George dug in his heels and got 
stubborn, something at which he excelled. For a while, it looked like 
the whole thing was just going to blow over, because everyone got 
wrapped up in the fight about the bond issue for the levees out in 
Point Place --
     [Please, don't ask.]
     -- and everything seemed fine until George called me one 
afternoon when I had the house pretty much to myself and informed me 
that the negatives had disappeared. All of them -- including the 
outtakes, which were not solo shots of a lovely torso; those were pure 
smut, taken off a tripod and timer and giving an excellent view of me, 
from the rear, riding George's fat prick. One in particular, taken 
while I was cumming, had real good definition of the way my pussy was 
stretched round his dick, with all but an inch or so of his wide dong 
buried inside me. Some of the others in that set included my face -- 
in one shot, with my mouth full, if you know what I mean.
     George figured it had happened that afternoon, while he was 
jogging. The night before, he'd developed some shots he'd taken out at 
the old Municipal Airport. When he'd gotten home, the padlock on his 
darkroom door had been cut -- probably a bolt-cutter, he figured -- 
and the negatives and prints from our session, and only from our 
session, were missing.
     I went over to see him and we put our heads together and tried to 
reason it out. Whoever had done it hadn't been on the football squad, 
which aced Marty and the other Three Stooges; they'd been jogging, too. 
George pointed out that examining negatives wasn't easy if you didn't 
know what you were doing, so that narrowed it down to people with 
darkroom experience who knew George's schedule and what to look for ...
     No matter how we sliced it, we kept coming back to the Lense 
Club. Well, we were right -- sort of.
     By then, Easter vacation was coming up and I went to see my 
cousin, Charlene for a couple of days. That's what I told George. In 
fact, I was eager to see Roger, but I didn't share that with George.
     I hadn't seen Charlene since around Christmas, when she and Tod 
the Asshole and Uncle Van and Aunt Irene came by for Christmas Dinner. 
Charlene had been losing weight -- or, should I say, redistributing 
it. When I saw her during that Easter break, I told her the truth: She 
looked real good. She'd gotten a new hair-do and her waist was smaller 
and her tummy was getting flat and her legs and butt were getting 
tighter and her tits were growing real nice. She was almost fourteen 
and you could see what was happening: She was going to be a bombshell.
     The first chance I got, I went over to see Roger. He knew I was 
coming over, because I'd called him from Rossford and told him. He was 
waiting for me and about, oh, ninety seconds after the front door was 
locked, a trail of clothing led from the living room door, up the stairs 
and right to the bedroom. Roger was devouring my pussy like a starving 
man with a bowl of rice. And he was making me crazy, because he'd lick 
and suck me till I was almost ready to cum and then he'd back off and 
leave me hanging. He did this for about fifteen minutes.
     Finally, I grabbed two hands' full of his hair, pulled his head 
away and said, "Roger, if you don't stick that cock in me right this 
minute, I'm going to scream bloody murder!"
     He knelt on the bed between my knees and pointed down. "You mean 
this cock?"
     His dick was as hard as any teenager's and was all reddish and 
throbbing and enormous. My cunt was twitching and juices just drenched 
my pussy and the bed beneath me.
     "Roger!" I yelled.
     He grinned, got on all fours and began kissing his way up my body, 
pausing to give special attention to my breasts, especially my nipples.
     "They're getting big, Marie," he said.
     As if I didn't know. According to the Sears big book, my 
measurements dictated a B-cup -- if someone manufactured a 27-B. My 
nipples were small, but hard and swollen and each time his tongue passed 
over them, I shivered. With a nineteen-inch waist and twenty-five inch 
hips, I was definitely top-heavy by any standard.
     Finally he crawled over me, pausing to put a pillow under my 
little butt. My legs opened more and I swear I could hear my own pussy 
lips, so swollen and wet and tight, part for him. I reached down with 
both hands, one to part my labia and one to guide his huge dick.
     [Well, eight inches may not seem huge to you, but remember how 
young and small and tight I was. An eight-inch cock in a girl with 25-
inch hips is like an eleven-inch cock in a normal, average-size 
woman.]
     As he slid it into me, I started moaning and rolling my hips 
under him, rocking them back and forth to take more and more of that 
big dick into my body. He said I seemed even tighter than usual and I 
could believe it -- after all, he'd just spent a quarter of an hour 
dangling me on the brink of cumming.
     Then he was about halfway in and his glans pressed something inside 
me and it felt golden and I came. Wow, did I cum! It was like being 
possessed. I came for almost a minute and when I sank back, limp, he was 
all the way in me -- the first time he'd gotten the whole thing inside 
me -- and he began pumping my pussy. After a few minutes of that, I felt 
him jerk and throb inside me and then he was cumming in me. He held me 
very close as he came in me, crushing me against him and somehow probing 
his prick farther into me without moving his hips much. On the last 
spurt, he also kissed the top of my head -- remember how short I was -- 
as we both had or orgasms.
     He rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him and keeping his 
shriveling cock inside me. I bore down on the muscles in my cunt and 
he groaned with the additional tightness.
     We lay there, sweaty and stuck together and panting.
     "You've been practicing," he said. "Got yourself a sweetheart. 
Want to tell me about it?"
     I nuzzled his chest hairs, stalling.
     "You don't have to," he reassured me. So of course I did.
     When I finished, he asked: "Okay, baby -- what's bothering you?"
     "Nothing, really." 
     His hand raised my face so he could look me in the eye. "Marie, 
you're laying here with my dick inside you -- "
     "I noticed." I giggled.
     He gave my butt a playful swat, more of a caress. "-- and your mind 
is a million miles away. Don't lie to me. You're bothered by something. 
Spill."
     So as I lay there with this man who was fifteen years older than 
me, with his dick inside me -- along with all of our juices -- I told 
him about the pictures and the negatives.
     "That was you?" He laughed a little, more like a chortle. "I should 
have known. One of the guys at Robby's -- " That was a barber shop in 
Genoa. "-- was talking about that exhibit. He was impressed." He 
chortled again. "Wish I'd seen those pictures."
     "Roger, I'm afraid everyone is going to see those pictures -- and 
the outtakes."
     "Baby, I'd do anything if I could, but I wouldn't know where to 
start. You got any ideas?"
     I admitted that I didn't -- at least where he could help with 
that. However, I did have other ideas and I flexed those muscles 
again. He started to get hard inside me, which was an amazing 
sensation, because his cock started out about average and swelled into 
a monster. Within a few minutes, he was stiff as a concrete-
reinforcement rod and I was sitting up straight and bouncing up and 
down on him. Coming down was especially fun, since it ground my clit 
into the hair-cushioned ring of bone around the base of his thick 
prick. I came a lot, over and over, and finally fell forward onto him. 
He rubbed a fingertip around my butt-hole and then slid it in. Much to 
my astonishment, it felt good. And I let him know it. 
     That was the key that set him off. He fucked me wildly for a few 
minutes. I really got off on the feeling of his fat cockhead swelling 
far, far inside my tight cunt, and we again came together. He seemed 
to cum a lot with the double compression on his cock. Later, when I 
climbed off him and scampered to the bathroom before my leaks stained 
the carpet; there was an awful lot of stuff in me.
     We did it again the next day, but the next night he had to go 
pick up a load of strawberries for delivery in New York, where he was 
supposed to pick up a trailer full of books and bring them to Toledo. 
     I went home after almost a day of fending off Tod the Asshole 
and found nothing new had happened with regard to the missing 
negatives. I knew, nonetheless, that it was just a matter of time before 
the other shoe was dropped. George took the College Boards in May and 
I prepared for final exams.
     Then, in the last week of May, the high schools in the area 
started having open-house days for eighth-graders. I had no intention 
of attending Rossford High -- I'd already been enrolled in the Catholic 
high school, without being consulted -- but it meant a day away from 
St. Cornelius, so I went.  The regular students at the high school had 
the day off -- it turned Memorial Day weekend into a four-day weekend 
for them -- so the place was occupied only by eighth graders.
     I was on the second floor, looking at the biology lab, when a  
man approached me. He was a nice-looking guy with slightly long hair 
and an open face. He was about twenty-five or twenty-six and he was 
wearing bell-bottomed pants and a white shirt and tie. His most 
striking feature was the bluest eyes I've ever seen.
     "Marie?" 
     I nodded.
     "I'm Ed Sautter." He shook my hand. "I'm trying to get a creative 
writing club started for the summer and I'd like you to come to one of 
our meetings."
     "To tell the truth, I'm already signed up for another school."
     He shook his head and smiled. "Doesn't matter. I'm just trying to 
gather some of the more promising young writers."
     "I'm not really a writer -- "
      "You've done some fine compositions and essays at St. Cornelius, 
from what I hear. I'd like to see them. Will you give us a chance?"
     "Well -- "
     "Besides -- " He leaned close, confidential and just-between-us 
close, those gorgeous blue eyes boring in on me. "Besides: Susan -- my 
girlfriend -- is going to come over and set up a chicken barbecue for 
everyone and she makes this sauce...mmmmm." He rolled those gorgeous 
blue eyes.
     Who could resist? "Well...okay. Where and when?"
     "This afternoon at three." He produced a piece of paper and 
scribbled an address on it. 
     "Eagle Point Road? That's a pretty ritzy neighborhood," I said. 
"I didn't think teachers got paid very much."
     "We don't," he said. "I'm renting the place along with two 
buddies. If you want a lift, I'm taking four or five others with me 
when I leave here at two-thirty. They'll be meeting me in the 
teachers' parking lot by the VW Microbus with the peace signs on it. 
Be seein' ya!"
     And then he was gone, just like that. I stood there in the nearly 
deserted hallway, fingering the paper and decided it might be fun. 
     It was that. And more.


CHAPTER EIGHT
     I called home and told Mom where I was going to be and said I 
should be home by seven and if I was going to be later I'd call again. 
Then I queued up with the other kids in the faculty parking lot. I'd 
expected a bunch of real dorky-looking characters, but most of them were 
real cute. I didn't know any of them when I got there, but I knew all of 
them by the time Ed showed up and loaded us all into the Microbus. It 
was nice to be with a group of kids my age who were as bright as me and 
as mature, especially since they were good-looking.
     The house where Mr. Sautter -- Ed -- lived was a big two-storey 
colonial. It was white and in another year it was going to need a coat 
of paint. It was at the end of Eagle Point Road, right next to the 
cemetery. Tall, tall hedges surrounded the entire plot. The yard was 
enormous, easily an acre, and there was a good-sized in-ground pool.
     We piled out of the Microbus and Ed showed us around the first 
floor of the house and told us to make ourselves at home while he 
changed. He went up the stairs and a couple of us wandered out through 
the patio doors opening from the family room  to  the  yard.  The
furnishings in the house were what you'd expect of three bachelors on a 
budget -- mid-Twentieth Century Catch-All.
     Ed reappeared in cut-off jeans and a PEACE NOW tee-shirt and got us 
started setting up lawn chairs and preparing the picnic table and the 
barbecue grill. Susan, his friend, showed up about twenty minutes later. 
She was real cute and real sexy -- and young. She was a senior at Toledo 
University, which made her about twenty-one or twenty-two. 
     Susan was about five-foot-four, with dark brown hair cut in bangs 
and light green eyes. She had a great face, a sprinkling of freckles, a 
wide and sexy mouth with real soft lips, and a button nose. She was 
slim, but curvy, too. She was wearing old faded jeans and a short-
sleeved blouse and if you looked at her, you couldn't figure out exactly 
what it was about her that was sexy, but she was. The boys in our group 
couldn't stop looking at her. I sneaked some peeks, myself.
     She got the chicken barbecuing and we mixed up some punch and then 
we all sat around and talked about what writing meant to us, what it 
could be and how the group might work. It was nice. It was also getting 
damn hot out in that afternoon sun and I started looking at the pool the 
way I usually looked at George -- with longing.
     Around four, we all dug into the chicken and a huge bowl of German 
potato salad that had been lurking in the refrigerator. Barbecued 
chicken is messy and we got it smeared all over our hands and faces. By 
five, we were all feeling fat and lazy. Ed suggested another meeting a 
couple of weeks later and then offered to drive home anyone who wanted a 
lift.
     "Leaving Guess Who with the cleanup," Susan muttered. She was 
standing near me. I offered to stay and help. At first she said no, but 
I explained that I wasn't expected home for a while and said if I could 
use the phone, it would be no problem. And it wasn't.
     As soon as the van pulled out of the driveway with its chicken-fed 
cargo, Susan and I started gathering the debris. It really went a lot 
faster with the two of us and we had done everything but wrap the 
leftovers in Saranwrap within fifteen minutes. The kitchen had been 
getting most of the late day sun and was awfully hot. Sweat was pouring 
off us as we wrapped and stored. Susan told me how she and Ed had met. 
She wasn't really in love with him, but she liked him an awful lot and 
they had a lot of interests in common.
     When the last drumstick was safely wrapped in plastic and ensconced 
in the Kenmore refrigerator, Susan turned to me. Her  blouse  was
plastered to her by sweat. "I need a dip in the worst way."
     "You and me both." My demure little white blouse had gotten pretty 
sticky, too. 
     She grabbed my forearm and grinned mischievously. "Let's do it!"
     "No suit." I grinned. "But you go ahead."
     "We could skinny dip."
     "Not this kid," I said. "All we need is some clown  to  come
wandering back to collect for the newspaper delivery or -- "
     "You're right." She brightened. "I have a couple of suits here."
     She must have seen the surprise in my face.
     "Shoot, I spend enough time here, especially since it's gotten 
warm. I'd be a dope not to have a couple of changes of clothes here." 
She took both my arms in her hands, her fingers just above my elbows, 
and held me at arm's length to appraise me. "Maybe. Come on." 
     I followed her saucy, denimed butt up to the second floor. She 
opened the first door at the top of the stairs. "Ed's room," she said, 
pausing. "It'll probably be a shambles."
     It wasn't as bad as the bedroom Jeanne and I shared and I said so. 
Still, it was a mess. She pulled a small duffel bag from the closet -- 
also a mess -- and put it on the bed. She began excavating. Three two-
piece suits appeared. She examined them. "What size bra do you wear?"
     "Uncomfortable." 
     She wiggled her fingers at me. "Give."
     "I should wear a 27-B -- "
     "A what -- Oh. Well -- " She was holding a blue halter that tied in 
the back. It was little more than a piece of rubbery blue cloth with 
straps and a string. "Let's try this. You're not shy, are you?"
     I barely suppressed a laugh. "Not so you'd notice." I stepped out 
of my jumper and stripped off my knee-high regulation white socks, then 
unbuttoned my blouse. It had really gotten soaked and it felt good to 
have it off.
     Susan was staring at me, her jeans  opened  and  her  blouse
unbuttoned. "Oh, you poor kid." Her gaze was focused on my breasts. 
"That must be so uncomfortable."
     Her saying it made me aware of it -- an awareness that was doubled 
by relief when I removed the pre-deb bra that was the only thing I could 
find as small as 27 inches. Of course, it was designed for a kid wearing 
a bra more for practice than need. 
     My breasts, freed, swelled out from their unnatural constriction. 
There were red marks where the bra cut into them. I rubbed the welts 
absently. I nodded ruefully in response to her remark.
     "Oh, you are so lovely," she said, surveying my panty-clad form. 
"Your breasts are absolutely perfect." She peeled off her blouse and was 
half-naked before me.
     "You've got nothing to complain about," I said. And it was true. 
Her breasts were firm and conical and she had really big aureoles and 
her nipples looked like they could get very thick and prominent. She 
sighed and stripped off her jeans and panties and selected a red-and-
green striped two-piece. I noticed that her cunt hair was very short and 
looked like it had been trimmed.
     She spotted the direction of my gaze and laughed -- almost giggled, 
in fact. "Ed likes -- " She caught herself. "I'm sorry. Looking at you 
and listening to you, it's easy to forget you're just a kid in Catholic 
school and -- Well, I didn't mean to offend you."
     I stared her right in the eye and said, "There's a difference 
between 'young' and 'kid.' I'm young, sure, but I'm not a little kid. 
I've done some stuff."
     "'Stuff'?"
     "With guys. Lots of stuff."
     She arched an eyebrow. 
     "Everything."
     The other eyebrow went up. I nodded.
     She reached into her duffel bag and withdrew a squeeze-bottle of 
skin lotion. "For those marks."
     I nodded, thinking she was changing the subject. I held out my 
hand.
     "Let me," she said, squeezing some of the lotion into her hand. She 
put the bottle down and then rubbed her hands together, sharing and 
spreading the lotion. I watched her face as she stepped close to me. 
"Let me," she repeated.
     I nodded and she began massaging the slippery lotion into the sides 
of my tits, where the pre-deb bra had left its marks. Her fingers were 
gentle and her touch was sure as she spread and massaged the lotion into 
my sensitive, firm young breasts.
     "Tell me, Marie," she said, her face a foot from mine. "Have you 
ever done anything with a woman?"
     I shook my head, but added: "I've done everything you can think of 
with girls."
     "Did you like it?"
     "Yes."
     "Oh...I was hoping you'd say that," she said and then she bent her 
head and kissed me on the mouth. I opened my mouth to her and our 
tongues met. Her wonderful hands never stopped caressing my breasts. My 
hands got busy, too. I rested my fingers on her butt for a moment and 
then started stroking her ass cheeks. 
     She took her mouth off mine for a moment and said, "The bed." 
     As if she could read my mind.
     I let her dance me a couple of steps backward and the edge of the 
bed hit the back of my legs. She half-turned me and we fell on the 
rumpled sheet with our arms around each other. Her breasts were at eye-
level for me. I'd been right about her nipples -- they'd gotten very 
prominent. The nozzles were about a half-inch long or more and they were 
very thick. They just begged to be kissed, so that's what I did. 
     "Oh, yes, honey, do that," she whispered, so I did it some more, 
moving my mouth from one firm, pointy breast to the other and back 
again. I started sucking her nipples and she rolled onto her back. I 
rolled on top of her, still sucking, and put my hands on the outer 
swells of each firm, college-girl cone. Her nipples had swelled still 
more and she was moaning and moving slowly, sensuously beneath me. Her 
hands never stopped moving, caressing my face, my shoulders, reaching 
down to cup my tits and squeeze them a little. When she traced her 
forefinger around my lips as I sucked one of her nipples, I felt a surge 
of excitement go through me.
     I flicked my tongue rapidly back and forth over the nipple in my 
mouth and she arched her hips. "Bite it," she begged. "Bite my nipple."
     I closed my teeth carefully over that turgid nozzle and gently 
chewed it, my tongue continually moving over the tip. She gasped loudly 
and her hips began an unmistakable fucking motion. I continued my mouth 
work on the nipple and pinched the other nipple with my thumb and 
forefinger. Her hips moved more urgently and when I began to twist the 
other nipple, she came. She arched her back, her legs wide and her cunt 
jabbing at the ceiling. Then she froze and fell back, groaning.
     "Let's lick each other, honey -- now!" she said. She guided my hips 
back and up, settling my legs on either side of her head. I lowered my 
cunt on her mouth and she introduced me to the pleasures  that  a
thoroughly experienced woman can lavish on another woman. I'd never 
experienced anything quite like what she was doing. Susan had a way of 
sucking my entire cunt into her mouth and then running the tip of her 
tongue over my labia and clit so the moist muscle barely grazed my 
swollen flesh. Thirty seconds of that and I was flowing like a stream, 
ready to cum.
     I ducked my head down and began licking the insides of her thighs 
and the edges of her neatly trimmed pussy hair. Her cunt lips were very 
long and swollen. I took each one in my mouth and sucked on it and 
licked it and then let my teeth gently close on it. She groaned against 
my cunt and slowed  her  tongue's  movements  to  a  tantalizing,
excruciatingly pleasurable caress.
     When I turned my attention to her clitoris, she got really wild. If 
I was flowing like a stream, she was a river. The juices just kept 
coming out of her pussy till I wondered for a moment if it was cunt 
juice or piss -- but a taste answered my question. Her feet were flat on 
the bed and her legs were wide apart...and so were her labia. Her pussy 
gaped at me and I could see it pulsing inside when I sucked the swollen 
little grain of her clitoris.
     "Put your fingers in me, honey!" she wailed softly. "Get me off!" 
As she spoke, she was reaching around my hips and using her fingers to 
open the tight clam of my cunt. She started licking the inner flesh of 
my cunt lips. The pleasure was washing over me in long, gentle waves, 
undulating orgasms that rocked my little body back and forth.
     I put two fingers inside her and there was plenty of room, so I 
added another. Her movements on my cunt and under my lips said she liked 
that and there seemed to be more room, so I put another finger in her 
cunt, filling it. I worked my four fingers in and out as far as they'd 
go and she moaned against my pussy and shook beneath me. I felt her cunt 
spasm on my fingers and knew she was cumming. I was ready to stop.
     She wasn't.
     "Put them all in there, honey! Please," she cried. "Put your whole 
hand in me!"
     My hand? Well, I was small and she certainly had a big hole and she 
was wet enough and I figured she knew what she was doing, so I worked my 
thumb into her cunt, too, and started moving my hand back and forth.
     "Push it in -- all the way! Please!"
     I pushed at her and she pushed at me and my hand slid inside much 
more easily than I'd have expected. When my wrist was caught in her 
cunt, she clamped down on me and came, hard, and then started revolving 
her hips and fucking at my hand. I couldn't keep my mouth on her clit 
anymore, so I just did what I could while she kept licking and sucking 
all the exposed pink flesh of my pussy.
     I wiggled my fingers inside of her and she came again, even harder, 
and then she sobbed at me from between my legs: "Please, honey -- make a 
f-fist in me!"
     I was game for anything at that point, so I made the fist and she 
got crazy. 
     "Ohhh, yeah, pump me with it! Fuck me with it!"
     I did as she'd asked, working my hard, clenched little fist in her 
sopping twat. She came and came, going rigid under me, then turned 
slippery and sinuous as an eel as she bucked. Her cunt was tightening 
around my hand and it took real effort to continue, but she  kept
yelling, louder and louder, "Pump me with it -- oh yeah! Fuck me harder 
-- oh, yeah!"
     Finally, I pushed my fist in as far as I could, till she had my 
fist, wrist and a third of my forearm in her, and then I began twisting 
my hand inside her and then she just plain lost it. She shrieked into my 
cunt so loud I thought the sound would come out of my ears and she came 
and came and came, like for more than a minute.
     When she finally relented, she whispered, "Now take it out real 
slow, just like -- oh yeah!"
     I pulled my invading hand out of her slowly and carefully and every 
inch or so, she'd shiver and have a little orgasm. When my fist came 
out, even her big pussy was stretched around my hand. Then it came out 
and with it came a regular flood of juice. She grunted and hunched her 
hips and literally expelled a gush of sauces a few inches into the air. 
She lay back, spread-eagled, and panted and shook. Her nipples looked 
ready to burst.
     I crawled up next to her and she pulled me into her arms.
     "Honey, that was so good," she said. "I love being stuffed like 
that."
     "I loved the way you were licking me," I answered. She kissed me, 
depositing some of my own juices on my mouth.
     "You have such a sweet, tight little cunt, so smooth and tasty -- 
mmmmm!" She licked her lips and then mine. "I could eat your pretty 
little pussy all day!"
     "Okay by me!"
     She laughed and kissed me again. Our breathing was returning to 
normal.
     "I couldn't believe how easy it was to get my hand in you," I told 
her.
     "I've always had a big pussy and over the years, I've enlarged it 
by putting, uh, big things in it. There just aren't many men who can 
fill me the way I like." She ran her hand over my ass and beyond to run 
a finger over my cunt. "You're so lucky to have such a tight pussy -- 
anyone's cock must fill you!"
     I shrugged. "Some more than others."
     "I know what you mean. One man usually can't keep me happy unless 
he's really big. Fortunately, I've learned to enjoy a pretty woman -- or 
girl -- " She kissed me on the tip of my nose. "But right now I've found 
someone who can really fill me up."
     "Ed."
     She shook her head. "No, Ed's about average, a little less. I mean 
Bill."
     "Bill?"
     "One of Ed's roommates. He's got a dick on him like a horse, almost 
a foot long and thick as your wrist."
     "What if Ed finds out about you and Bill?"
     "Finds out? Honey, he knows. Sometimes I suck him while Bill is in 
me or he packs my butt while I ride Bill." She closed her eyes and 
shivered. "You can't imagine what that's like!"
     "I don't have to imagine it," I said.
     Her eyes opened suddenly. "You got sandwiched in that little pussy 
and that little bitty ass?" She plainly didn't believe me.
     I told her about the previous summer at Kelly's Island. When I was 
done, she was obviously turned on again. "All those hard young teenage 
dicks, never tiring, just one after the other..." She had one hand over 
her pussy, playing with her clit. "....one after the other in that sweet 
little nooky of yours --- ahhhh!" she shivered and came. She caught her 
breath and said, "I'd have given anything to watch that. I love to 
watch, too. Even myself. That turns me on so much! Ed shot some eight 
millimeter film of Bill and me and then another time with Bill and me 
and these two guys we picked up in a bar. One of them had a cock so fat 
I couldn't get my hand around it, must've been two-and-a-half inches, 
but not real long. He filled my cunt real good. Bill fucked my ass while 
I sat on that fat dong. I felt like I had a horse in me! Oh, did I cum!"
     We lay there for a few more minutes, then got showered and cleaned 
up. We washed each other; that was fun. We got downstairs just as Ed 
returned.
     We chatted and hung out for a little while. Susan announced she was 
going for a swim and went upstairs. We watched her and I remembered her 
naked body next to me and under me and it turned me on. She was so lithe 
and quick when she dove, she was like a water sprite. While she was in 
the pool, Duane -- the third roommate -- came home and a few minutes 
later Bill arrived. Bill was real handsome and really smooth and looked 
really good in his summer-weight suit. I would've gotten wet looking at 
him even if I hadn't known what he had camped between his legs. It was 
easy to imagine him and Susan getting it on. I wanted to see that.
     Ed drove me home and invited me to come out again anytime. He said 
he thought Susan liked me. I told him we seemed to get along. 



CHAPTER NINE

     George's brother, on leave for the weekend, was home visiting his 
family and soon-to-be-fiancee, so his entire family from all over Ohio 
and Michigan was gathered there. That pretty much tied George up for the 
weekend. What I didn't know was that in Michigan, he had this third- or 
fourth-cousin about his own age who was a real beauty. Apparently, it 
was love at first sight. But I didn't find out about that till later.
     Anyhow, I was at loose ends. I kept thinking about what Susan had 
told me and what we'd done together and kept getting hornier  and
hornier. Dad had been working midnights, which put him in a great mood 
to begin with, and he was off on a tirade because two of the other guys 
had been poring through some girlie magazines in the lunch room. Dad was 
raving about how those types of magazines shouldn't be allowed and so on 
and so forth. On Saturday morning, Jeanne and I were sitting at the 
kitchen table -- this was around nine o'clock -- looking  through
Teenbeat or somesuch and Dad, who had just gotten home from work about a 
half-hour before, was stalking around raving and holding forth. Mom just 
sighed and tried to humor him and gave him another beer, probably hoping 
to sedate him. Jeanne and I finally got so tired of it that we went to 
our room to fix each other's hair and ended up sucking each other's 
nipples and playing Yellow Pages.
     Which somehow only made me hornier.
     And then, at half-past two, I got the phone on the second ring -- 
just ahead of Jeanne.
     "Hi!"
     "Hi, yourself, Susan," I said.
     "We're going to have a little pool party. Interested?"
     "I sure am. This place is dead."
     "I'll pick you up in a half-hour. Bye!"
     Well Mom, being Mom in every sense of the word, insisted that I 
should bring some food with me. By the time Susan arrived, she had 
concocted about eight pounds of her patented Killer Onion & Tobasco & 
Sour Cream Dip. I know it sounds disgusting, but it was great. Susan 
thought it was terrific and yelled her thanks from the window of the 
five-year-old Rambler.
     Old blankets were spread across the seats because the Rambler had 
been sitting out in the sun. Susan was wearing cutoff jeans -- the legs 
were frayed -- and a tee-shirt emblazoned with the British flag. the 
colors were faded from frequent washings. I was wearing similar shorts 
and an oversized Mets tee-shirt left behind by my phantom step-brother 
on his last visit. Under it I was wearing the top of Alexis' swimsuit; 
I'd filched it from the bitch.
     While we waited for the light to turn onto Eagle Point, Susan had 
something to say: "I told Ed what we did, Marie. I hope you're not mad."
     I hadn't considered the possibility, but now that I thought about 
it, I wasn't surprised. I told her so. And I asked her about  his
reaction.
     "He wants to watch." The light changed and we tooled up the steep 
slope past the gas station and the grade school.
     From the moment of her first revelation, I'd sort of guessed what 
the answer would be -- at least some of it -- but I wasn't sure what I 
was letting myself in for. I wanted Susan again and I wanted to see 
Susan and Bill. I'd supposed something might happen with Ed but I knew 
that there would never be too much I could do with Bill if he was as 
well-hung as Susan described.
     But what troubled me was who else might know. Susan and Ed and 
probably Bill and Duane and did they have friends? And did their friends 
have friends? I mean, Rossford wasn't -- still isn't -- very big and 
word gets around fast. I mean, I was still going to be stuck there for a 
few years -- five or six, anyhow -- and I didn't want every drunken 
football squad to decide it had a right to use me. 
     "It's bothering you, isn't it?" she prompted.
     "Ummmm...yes." I explained my misgivings.
     "I understand. Well, we've had to be pretty discreet about our 
ways, and we're careful who we  tell  stuff  to.  But  if  you're
uncomfortable with it, we can always just call it off?"
     And I thought: What the hell? I was sick and tired of having 
everyone else decide they had a right to tell me how to live and how to 
behave. We weren't hurting anyone with what we did and no one was being 
forced to do anything, so whose business was it? Ours -- period. And the 
rest of the world was just going to have to deal  with it.
     [Remember when this was. A lot of people were doing and saying the 
same thing and wit just about as much thought to the future and the 
social implications and everything else. The Sexual Revolution was in 
full swing -- excuse the pun -- the era of Free Love was just really 
getting started.]
     "Well, I want to do it," I told her. "And I want to see you doing 
it with them, too."
     She stopped t the four-way light, leaned over and kissed me on the 
cheek. "Are you sure?"
     "No -- but I want to do it."
     "Oh, I was hoping you'd say that." She resumed driving and I 
watched her big nipples press against the Union Jack tee-shirt.
     A half-dozen cars were parked in the driveway in front of the 
double-garage and along the road in front of the house. We unloaded the 
car -- Susan had about fifteen pounds of chicken parts and miscellaneous 
other supplies she'd picked up at the Kroger on her way to my house -- 
and went inside. Bill and another guy -- who Susan introduced as Louis 
-- were washing and peeling some vegetables in the kitchen. Bill was 
wearing big, baggy bermudas and no bulge was visible. Louis was a darkly 
good-looking guy about twenty. He was shirtless and wearing tight 
cutoffs. A significant bulge was in evidence. 
     Through the kitchen windows I could see eight or nine others in the 
back. Some were sitting around the pool and two wee sunning themselves 
on chaise lounges. Five of them were women. Duane wasn't out there, but 
Ed was conversing with a stunning blonde in skintight short-short 
cutoffs and a man-cut blouse that was mostly unbuttoned. She  was
everyone's idea of a corn-fed cheerleader from the Midwest: five-foot-
six, honey blonde hair she could have sat on, a perfect and firm figure, 
pretty, open face and -- I'd never seen this before -- one blue eye and 
one green eye.
     The eyes were not well-focused. Susan saw where I was looking and 
when we went upstairs for her to change and me to strip to my mismatched 
swimsuit, she explained.
     "That's Bonnie," she said. "Louis brought her."
     "She's beautiful!" 
     Susan's face disappeared as she pulled off her tee-shirt and 
revealed her lovely breasts and magnificent nipples. "She's totally 
fucked up, Marie. She'll go out with anyone who gives her drugs and 
everyone who can get them will supply her, especially with Sunshine and 
Chocolate, 'cause when she gets stoned she'll let anyone do anything 
they want with her." She frowned. "She's going to burn herself out by 
the time she's seventeen and she's going to get hurt."
     "Maybe someone should talk to her."
     Susan kissed me lightly on the forehead. "She's almost as sweet as 
you, but she's got problems, hon. As soon as someone suggests she lay 
off the shit, she starts screaming about being judgmental and repressive 
and -- " She sighed. "She's going to have to see her way clear by 
herself. Sometimes it's like that."
     We went downstairs. Susan supervised the Kitchen Patrol and I went 
straight for the pool.
     The afternoon went quickly and then it was dusk and we wee all 
mellow. I'd had a couple of beers and the place was emptying out. In the 
course of the get-together, I guess about twenty people had been there, 
with some leaving as others arrived. By the time sunset was past and the 
pool lights were on, eight of us remained: Bill, Ed, Susan, Louis, 
Bonnie -- who was thoroughly stoned by then -- and this Oriental couple 
who were friends of Susan's from the University. They were nice, but 
rather quiet and seemed quite conservative. 
     Bonnie hadn't been in the pool during the heat of the midday sun, 
begging off because she said it took her hair forever to dry and was a 
real pain in the ass to set. Now, though, she was letting herself be led 
to the pool by Louis. Her blouse by now was completely unbuttoned. She 
had the shirt-tails tied across her flat little midriff. And from the 
way she was moving, she was stoned out of her mind. She suddenly pushed 
Louis ahead of her, into the pool, then dived  in  with  perfect,
effortless grace. She surfaced beyond him and he chased her, under the 
water.
     Bonnie suddenly shrieked and disappeared beneath the surface. About 
ten seconds later, both of them surfaced. Louis was behind her and her 
blouse was untied and his hands were feasting on her perfect, firm 
breasts. She caught one of his hands in one of hers and pushed it down 
over her stomach and beneath the surface of the water. From the way she 
arched and leaned her head back against his shoulder, her ripe, red lips 
offered, it was pretty obvious where his hand was and that it was 
familiar territory. 
     The Oriental couple made polite noises and left.
     Louis waved goodbye and Bonnie broke away. She swam to the deepest 
part of the pool and shrugged off the blouse. Then she dove and when she 
broke the surface again, she was holding over her head in one hand a 
piece of wet, faded blue denim. She swung it a couple of times, then 
hurled it toward Louis. It fell short and floated in the pool. "Come and 
get it -- if you can!" she shrieked. Then she did a perfect tuck, 
rolling her pale, tight little ass out of the water for a moment before 
her legs came straight up and parted, exposing her fine, blonde pussy to 
the stars and pool lights -- not to mention all of us -- before she slid 
beneath the surface.
     Louis swam clumsily toward her and dove, but by the time he came 
up, she was at the shallow end, standing in hip deep water. 
     All of us were looking at her  perfect,  stoned,  overheated
loveliness as she hoisted herself up and sat on the edge of the pool 
apron.
     Ed trotted by us and said a single word to Susan in passing: 
"Neighbors."
     "Shit!" she blurted and ran after him, motioning to Bill. Louis was 
just reaching the place where Bonnie sat, perched. 
     "Get her inside!" Ed hissed. "The neighbors!"
     "Damn!" 
     Susan and Bill each took and arm an dog-trotted her, all wet, 
barely jiggling firm flesh and lithe young curves, to the patio doors. 
Ed leaned down and helped Louis out of the pool. Somewhere along the 
line, Louis had shed his shorts and his rapidly limpening -- but still 
impressive -- erection was fading fast. 
     I stood there like a bump on a log, a half-gnawed crescent of 
watermelon forgotten in my hand, till Ed turned at the door: "Coming 
inside for the party?"
     In for a dime, in for a dollar, I figured, and walked toward the 
house.
     By the time I'd gotten there, someone had dumped all the cushions 
from the couch on the floor and covered them with those big beach 
towels. Bonnie was laying, flat on her back, in the middle of two of 
them, with her legs open and her knees wide. Her feet were flat on the 
floor. She was holding her arms up to Louis and she was babbling, 
"C'mon, come on and get next to me, get inside me, awww please ..."
     Louis, being not nearly as stupid as he usually looked, was wasting 
no time. He was kneeling next to her head. His dick was again swollen 
and bobbing. He reached down with one hand and rubbed her nipples, then 
ran his hand down to finger her cunt. She was so wet I could hear her 
cunt suck his finger even over the noise of the drapes being pulled 
across the patio doors.
     Bonnie reached up and grabbed his dick. She pulled him down to her 
face and sucked it into her mouth, arching her head back and up and 
taking more and more of him till he was balls' deep in her face. He kept 
working his finger in and out of her and she was hunching her hips up as 
fast and demandingly as he was pushing his thick dick in and out between 
her sweet lips.
     "She has such a pretty pussy," Susan whispered. She'd come up to 
stand behind me and was close enough that I felt her whisper on my ear.
     She did indeed. "Lickable," I said.
     "I'll bet it is."
     "You've never -- ?"
     "She isn't into it from women or men."
     "You mean she doesn't like it?"
     "Maybe you'll see." Susan's hand was resting on my arm, just above 
the elbow. The scene was getting to me; my nipples were hard and Susan's 
touch sent a chill through me. I felt the moisture beginning between my 
legs.
     I wasn't the only one it was getting to. Ed and Bill were rubbing 
their cocks through their clothes. In Bill's case, that was a lot of 
rubbing. Even through the loose bermudas, the bulge was impressive.
     Bonnie's hand came up to rest on Louis's hips and she began pulling 
him deeper and harder into her mouth. He had taken his finger from her 
cunt and was using both hands to brace himself over her. He was pumping 
his cock willingly in and out of her mouth, fucking her face. Suddenly, 
he stiffened and Bonnie's lips were stretched still further as he poured 
his cum into her sucking mouth. I could hear her gurgling with his load. 
When he finally pulled his dick out of her mouth, she held him in place 
for a moment and rubbed his prick, still sperm- and saliva-slicked, all 
over her lovely face.
     "You are such a sweet little cocksucker," Louis gasped.
     Eyes closed, head twisting slowly from side to side,  Bonnie
whimpered, "Yeah, I'm a cocksucker, a cocksucker slut, just a slut, I'll 
take on anyone and everyone and I want to I want you I want you all of 
you to do to do to do -- "
     Definitely ripped.
     "Wow," Ed said. He stepped forward, hand poised on his zipper. "Do 
you mind?" This was addressed to Louis.
     "No, man, be my guest."
     "Much obliged," said Ed, unzipping, stripping and dropping over 
her. His dick was rock-hard and slid slowly into her. "Oh, wow, she's so 
fucking hot and tight!" he groaned.
     "Real snapper, man," Louis replied. He lay on his back, gasping for 
breath on the worn carpet beside them. Bonnie's legs came up and locked 
around Ed's pumping butt and he thrust in and out of her. She thrust 
back and then moved her legs higher, to his waist. He was pumping down 
as much as forward now and even over the noise of their moans and 
breathing, I could clearly hear her cunt sucking on his dick. 
     Suddenly, Ed pushed upright and hooked his arms behind and under 
her knees. He pushed her legs back farther and father, till her knees 
were even with her shoulders and more. She was so limber it seemed 
perfectly comfortable for her. He was pounding into her now and I could 
see his dick stretching her cunt and see her cunt skin pulling out with 
his outstrokes. 
     When Ed started to cum in her, her belly rippled and heaved and she 
was plainly cumming with him, but silently. Ed suddenly yelled, "Damn!" 
and then bucked against her and shook for a long time. When he pulled 
away, his dick stretched long and thin as her cunt refused to relinquish 
its grasp for a long time. His glans finally popped free and he sank 
back to rest on his knees, her legs came down on either side of him n 
slow, fluid motion, like it had been choreographed. Her belly still 
heaved and her nipples looked swollen to bursting. A few drops of white 
goo leaked from between her swollen cunt lips.
     "More more more more -- "  she moaned over and over, her arms again 
up and seeking. Her eyes were closed.
     "When she came," Ed breathed, "her snatch like to pull my dick off. 
Wow!"
     "Me?" Bill asked Louis, politely. Bill had his bermudas opened. 
Louis looked and so did I. I was impressed. Bill was truly hung like a 
horse. His cock was very long and very thick, certainly the biggest I'd 
seen at that point, and maybe it's the biggest I've ever seen.
     "Listen, man, let me go next," Louis said. "She's my date. After 
you put that in her, she won't even feel me."
     "Cool."
     Louis was sporting another thick hard-on, thick enough that I 
doubted his assertion, but at the moment my attention was usurped by two 
things: Susan's lips brushing the nape of my neck and her hands running 
up and down over my torso. 
     At just that moment, Ed turned and looked at us. He grinned. "Magic 
time!" Then he got up and padded naked from the room.
     Louis was grunting and puffing as he stuffed his thick dick into 
Bonnie and she was moaning as he made slow but steady progress into her 
seeping blonde pussy.
     I half-turned to Susan. "What did he mean, 'Magic time'?"
     "That's sort of an in-joke. Actors say that before they go on 
stage...or on-camera."
     "Ohhh that's good!" Bonnie gasped as Louis buried the last of his 
thick prick in her tight cunt.
     "On-camera -- "
     Just as Louis started pumping, Ed returned. He had two cameras -- a 
35 millimeter and a Polaroid -- around his neck and was carrying a 
super-8 camera. I turned and stared at Susan.
     "Well, you know he's a photography nut," she said, and pulled her 
tee-shirt over her head.
     Louis was pumping Bonnie hard, so hard that the breath crashed out 
of her with each plunge and even her hard teenage tits jiggled -- and 
she seemed to love it. She was gasping and moaning and her legs were 
straight up and she was holding them that way with her hands on her 
ankles...and then she let them flop wide and lay there and let Louis 
collapse on top of her and pour his cum into her. When he pulled out, a 
white fringe was around her exposed pussy and drooling down into the 
crack of that perfect blonde ass. And Ed was right there, snapping away 
with his Polaroid and occasionally with the 35 millimeter.
     Louis rolled off her and climbed unsteadily to his feet. "Oh, man," 
he was moaning. "What a hot piece of ass. She's all yours," he said over 
his shoulder as he got a beer from the fridge.
     Bill was over her in a moment, his huge cock looking monstrous and 
dark with hot blood as he positioned himself. He crawled backwards over 
her and when his big balls were near her cunt, I swear his knob was over 
her naval -- and his prick looked as big as her slender thighs. She 
reached down almost negligently and grasped his fat dong and groaned, 
"Oh, yeah, fuck me with it! Fuck me!"
     She still hadn't opened her eyes.
     She used one hand to spread her cunt and the other to guide his 
stiff dong and somehow managed to wedge the head halfway into her narrow 
cunt. Her young pussy was being stretched incredibly, yet she was 
rolling her slim hips desperately, determined to engulf that meat.
     She succeeded -- and when the head popped completely into her, her 
reaction was visible and audible. She gasped and bit her lip and he 
groaned and sank slowly, slowly down onto and into her. It looked like a 
broomstick was sticking out of her and he was balancing on it. He seemed 
to be letting most of his weight rest on his dick and still it sank into 
her slowly. 
     She made a sound when he was a little more than halfway in. It 
sounded like she was in pain -- and considering how much she was being 
stretched, that would have made sense -- but even as she wailed she was 
bringing those gorgeous legs up and around and resting her feet on his 
ass and pushing him into her.
     At the same time, Susan was busy. She'd been running her hands up 
and down my arms and occasionally kissing the nape of my neck -- which 
has always been a sensitive spot for me -- and now her hands were moving 
around the front to graze my tits through Alexis' swimsuit top. Her 
fingertips made slow circles around the outer edges of  my  tits,
spiraling in until she was rubbing my nipples. My legs seemed to get 
weak and I let myself sink back against her, feeling her nipples hot and 
hard against my back. I was just turning my head to kiss her when:
     "AUGGGGHH!"
     We all stared. Bill was pounding that monster cock into her as far 
as it would go -- all but maybe the last two or three inches -- but he 
hadn't given up trying to get the whole thing into her. He slammed into 
her until her whole body shook when his fat glans slammed into the end 
of her cunt and then withdrew just an inch or two and slammed in again. 
And each time, when he hit bottom, he ground against her for a moment or 
so, trying to press more into her.
     "Oh, shit, I feel it IN MY STOMACH!"
     She was obviously hurting, yet obviously didn't want to stop, 
because: "More! MORE!"
     Bill was obliging, but his restraint gave way before she opened up 
any deeper. His big balls tightened and pulled up and his cock swelled 
even more and he jab-jab-jabbed at her as he poured his load into her 
hot, blonde teenage cunt. He seemed to cum for a long time, and a lot, 
and the stuff backed up the length of her meat-filled twat and began to 
ooze out around the fat plug of his cock.
     Louis, by the way, stood naked to one side. In one hand he held a 
half-emptied bottle of Blatz (and oh, what memories that recalled!) and 
the other stroked his half-hard cock as he urged, "Yeah, man! Pin that 
bitch! She wants it!"
     And, of course, during all of this, Ed was happily snapping his 
pictures.
     Bill pulled out. Even limp, his cock seemed to go on forever. When 
the head finally popped free, juices -- his, Ed's, Louis's, hers -- 
drooled lushly out of her sweet little cunt. She lay there, gasping ... 
and one hand came up -- her eyes were still closed -- beckoning anyone 
and everyone while the other went between her legs to rub and tantalize 
her already swollen cunt and clit. The message was clear: More.
     Susan pulled my swimsuit top up, exposing my breasts, and got her 
hands on my naked nipples and a great gush of excitement went through 
me. All the beer and horniness swept me and I felt a moment of vertigo. 
Bill saw what was going on and crawled to us on all fours. He pulled my 
bottoms down to my ankles and guided my feet out of them, then began 
licking me. He moaned, "What a gorgeous little pussy!" over and over as 
he tried to lick me dry, a self-defeating exercise at the coldest of 
times, and that was far from one of them. 
     Louis drained the last of his beer and put the cold bottle on the 
carpet between Bonnie's legs. I seemed to zoom in on the beads of 
condensation on the outside of the amber glass and the slowly settling 
ring of foam on the inside. I wondered, oddly, if that was what jism 
would look like through amber glass and then Bonnie was rubbing the 
bottle up and down, up and down, pressing it against the split of her 
slippery slit.
     Ed was in conflict. Photograph what Susan and Bill were doing to 
me, or focus on Bonnie, who just might turn the bottle ninety degrees 
and stuff it into her (apparently) perpetually hungry cunt? 
     Susan lowered me to the carpet and helped me lay back. Bill never 
missed a lick as she began sucking my nipples while on all fours facing 
my feet. I felt the first of the orgasms rising in me and then I felt 
Bill's hands completely enclose my ass. He lifted my cunny to his mouth 
and feasted and I started cumming. I didn't care about the artificial 
lightning flashes of the strobe on the 35 millimeter; all I cared about 
was cumming more and more and more.
     Things got unfocused. I remember, at some point, Susan saying -- 
rather plaintively -- "Hey! What about me?" and Bill obligingly moving 
behind her. Louis quickly took his place between my legs, but not for 
long. He was soon laying over me and driving his hard cock into me and 
it was just exactly what my body craved.
     And all the time I could hear click--click--click--
     Louis came soon (it seemed) and I scooted on my back under the 
bitch-presenting form of Susan. She lowered her Bill-filled cunt so I 
could lick at it and at his big balls. He pulled out at one point and 
let his huge dick flop onto my sweat-slippery tits and belly, then 
pulled back enough to dangle that plum-size knob over my face. I tried 
to suck him as Susan dropped her head and began sucking my clit. His 
glans was simply too big to get in my mouth. I licked as much as I could 
reach -- which wasn't much -- and then sucked on the slit in the end of 
his cock, but it wasn't enough for him and he soon loaded himself back 
into her big pussy and resumed churning. And I resumed licking her clit 
and his nuts. I liked this better, anyhow.
     After Bill came and Susan's newly unplugged twat gushed its little 
explosion of her sauces (and his cum) on my face, we all rested. I 
didn't know how long I'd been cumming, there; it was timeless. I said 
something about being thirsty and someone presented me with a cold beer. 
I'd been thinking of cold water or soda pop, but, I figured, What the 
hell? I drank the whole bottle almost in one gulp.
     "We gotta be making tracks, folks."
     We looked over at Louis. He was dressed and looked a bit weary, but 
not too bad. Bonnie, however, was a semi-ambulatory disaster. Louis and 
she had somehow gotten her cutoffs and shirt back on her, but they were 
little enough consolation compared to her flushed face. The big wet spot 
on the crotch of the cutoffs didn't lend much to fashion appeal, nor did 
the bruises beginning to form on those gorgeous legs. And her hair was a 
mess. Susan insisted that Louis wait while she cleaned Bonnie up a bit. 
In the meantime, Ed and Bill lit some grass -- a joint, you'd call it 
now -- and offered me some. I hadn't even smoked tobacco then, let alone 
grass, and declined somewhat nervously, because I wasn't sure how they'd 
react. They seemed to think it was fine.
     But with the drapes pulled and no real air circulation, that room 
-- already hot and filled with the aromas of sex and sum and lubrication 
and sweat and lust -- quickly filled with marijuana smoke and it was 
getting to me fast. I started to feel very silly and impetuous and I 
actually giggled when I realized I had a man's lips at each of my 
breasts.
It seemed perfectly reasonable for Ed to roll me onto my back and slide 
sweetly into me and begin gently pumping in and out. It was almost 
sexless; just friendly, y'know?
     But not completely.
     Before long, I was starting to cum again, but this time it was in 
long, unending waves that washed through and over me an then I felt Ed 
cumming and it seemed very reasonable for Bill to be rolling on top of 
me and --
     "Are you out of your goddam mind?"
     Susan's voice was hot, hard, demanding and shrill. It went a long 
way to shattering the moment for all of us.
     "Huh?" was my contribution.
     "Get off her, Bill -- " Much fumbling, foggily remembered, and then 
Bill was sitting naked beside me on the floor, that monstrous cock 
sticking up from between his thighs like the sweet end of a baseball 
bat.
     "You put that in her and she'll rupture. Forget it!"
     "Awwwww..." was Bill's educated response.
     "She may be right," Ed said with the forced sobriety of one who is 
stoned.
     "Huh?" I said.
     "But I wanna be in that nice, tight, hot, slick, hairless, itty 
little -- "
     "I'll take care of you, horsey," Susan said and began giving 
directions as Ed lit another joint and pumped still more mary jane into 
the air.
     I started to get really relaxed then, to feel a buzz. Susan crawled 
over me so we could lick each other and at the same time, Bill slid that 
big salami of his up into her. She had her knees on either side of my 
head, right up next to my ears, and she let her legs spread wider and 
wider till she was almost doing a split. Her mound was mashed right down 
over my mouth and every time Bill drove up into her, his balls came up 
and smacked against my forehead. She had her hands under me, holding my 
butt. My legs were open so she could lick and suck all over my cunt and 
then she got ahold of my clit in her lips and I started cumming. And 
cumming. And cumming. 
     I gave as good as I got and it wasn't long before she was screaming 
and jumping around and her nipples like to gouge into my tummy, they 
were so hard. Ol' Bill was pounding away and I could see his cock swell 
up and then he was cumming in her and she was cumming on him and in my 
mouth and I just got higher and higher with the sex and the smoke.
     I don't remember many details about what came next. Susan and I 
rolled over and I sat on her face and licked her and licked at Bill's 
juices. Her cunt was still stretched open from his big dick and it 
seemed the most natural thing in the world the clench my fist and work 
it up into her. I heard Ed clicking away with his camera and then I 
heard the movie camera whirring and everyone complained the lights were 
too bright, so he gave up on that in about ten minutes.
     Susan just lay there and wailed, cumming all the time, and I was 
really getting into getting into her, if you know what I mean. I must've 
had half my arm up inside her at one point. Ed got it all on film. 
     Then Ed was kneeling behind me and sliding his nice hard dick into 
me and that, what with Susan's licking, had me going like to nuts real 
fast. He didn't last any too long, either. I came so hard I kind of 
blacked out or something for a while. I came to on my back, with Susan 
licking one tit and Ed licking the other. Bill had a joint in his mouth. 
He took a deep breath and then kissed me and blew the smoke right into 
my mouth -- a "shotgun," it's called.
     It hit me pretty hard, because I agreed pretty fast to letting Ed 
take pictures of me licking Bill's limp dick. It didn't stay limp very 
much longer. At one point I managed to force the head into my mouth and 
then it was difficult to get it out, cause his cock had gotten so fat. 
     Get it out he did, though, and Susan immediately demanded it. He 
got up behind her and slid the whole thing in -- bam! it was gone, just 
like that. I put my hand up to press her belly and I could feel it 
moving inside. He stuck three fingers in his mouth and then pressed them 
down between her buttocks and she tensed up for a moment -- and then 
sighed deeply. 
     "Oh, yeah, lover, that feels so gooood..." she said and her eyes 
half closed and she pretty much forgot about my nipples. Bill licked his 
pinky and added it to the crowd in her butt and she again tensed, then 
sighed, and started moaning.
     "I wanna pin your sweet, tight ass, baby!" Bill said.
     "That'd feel so good," she hissed, "but my cunt will get lonesome!"
     I was pretty stoned by then -- my first time -- so I went along 
with the suggestion Ed made.
     I don't recall a helluva lot about what came next; at least, the 
details are unclear. But I remember quite clearly having my fist inside 
Susan's big cunt while she sucked my little pussy while the full length 
of Bill's humongous cock, fat as my arm, pumped in and out of her ass. 
It was squeezing my hand and arm, which were in her cunt. It was very 
horny and I remember cumming lots when she remembered to lick and suck 
and finger me, and I remember lightning in the room.
     When I woke, it was almost dawn. I was surrounded by  naked,
sleeping bodies, most covered with sweat and cum. When I sat up and 
looked, I discovered I was wearing the same uniform. My only thought at 
that moment was get home before Mom or Dad or Moses (a.k.a., Alexis) 
awoke and discovered my absence.
     It wasn't to be until almost twenty-four hours later that I began 
to worry about all that damn film Ed had shot.
     I never saw Louis again, anywhere, and but I did hear of him again, 
years later, once. There is a reason -- a good one -- for that. As for 
Bonnie -- well, I did see her again, but I never would have guessed the 
circumstances. When I was "introduced" to her a couple of years later, 
you could've knocked me over with a feather.
     I didn't want to see Susan or Bill again. It took me a long time to 
sort it out, but eventually I did. They'd used me, toyed with me. I felt 
dirty and -- soiled. Cheapened. I didn't like that. I'd thought that 
feeling was behind me. I'd felt the same way after the first time -- 
     [No. I don't want to talk about that. Not yet, anyway. Maybe later.
Yes. Later]
     So after some time passed and I got more relaxed about all of Ed's 
film, I started looking forward to the Fourth of July. Alexis got 
herself a part-time job working out at the Dairy Queen on Woodville road 
and Dad had a steady part-time gig working for some contractor -- in 
addition to his regular job -- 
     [No one can ever accuse the son-of-a-bitch of being lazy.]
     -- and Jeanne and I were pretty much left to our own devices. That 
was when we discovered the vibrating massager Mom had gotten from Sears 
to help ease Dad's tense shoulders.
     Hah!
     Jeanne came like nothing I'd ever seen and I passed out from it, I 
came so hard. It was scary.
     But we were looking forward to the Fourth. For one thing, there'd 
be fireworks over in Maumee.
     For another, my phantom step-brother was coming to visit and I was 
bound and determined to have him.


CHAPTER TEN


     By the time he arrived, I was in a state. I'd dome everything I 
could to prepare -- tanned like crazy, read up all I could about his 
damn ol' Mets, even bought a sexy peignoir -- and laid in plans for It. 
I was determined to seduce my step-brother. 
     The night before he was arrive at Toledo Express Airport (which he 
always referred to as "Toledo International Spaceport," just to rub it 
in) I showered and stood bare-butt naked in from of the mirror on the 
back of the door to the room I shared with Jeanne. I looked myself over.
     All of a sudden, in the past three weeks, I'd started developing 
again -- wildly. My bust was up to a 29C and my waist was still a little 
bitty 19 and my hips were barely 26 inches. I was as tan as I could be 
and my hair, which hadn't been more than trimmed in six months, reached 
straight and sleek halfway down my back. When I looked at myself in the 
mirror, I knew I was damn sexy and I knew that if I couldn't get to him 
now, I never would. 
     I also knew I had to be Cool -- not too pushy, very much in control. 
I had it all planned out, oh yes I did.
     I went with Dad and Mom to the airport to meet him. He hugged me 
the way he hugged everyone else and I made damn sure that the sleeveless 
top I wore was the only thing I wore on top, so he could feel my boobs 
press into him. I sat next to him in the station wagon as Dad drove us 
all back from the airport, and I made sure I was scrunched over so my 
thigh (bare beneath the cutoffs jeans) was against his. And I could not 
remember a thing about staying cool. Because he was an absolute fox.
     He was a little under six feet tall and had this light brown hair, 
except for a -- can you believe it? -- red forelock and had these really 
light hazel eyes and a cute face and what a damn built he had on him! 
He'd picked up his suitcases from the conveyor belt as if they'd been 
empty; when Jeanne and I tried to help we nearly got ruptured. Even Dad 
couldn't lift one of them that easily!
     All the way back from the airport we made small talk, and he was 
always completely in control. When we passed Route 23 and I leaned over 
(supposedly) to point to the new bowling alleys (and not incidentally 
press my boobs into his arm) he just gave me a quick glance and a funny 
little half-smile and I wanted to cross my legs 'cause I was getting so 
wet down there.
     By the time we'd reached the house, Mom had already told him I was 
having some friends over for a slumber party (heh) and since Dad was on 
midnight shifts and she tired out early, he agreed to watch over us 
kids (double-heh) that night.
     All was in readiness.
     I brushed my teeth twice and showered and then gargled and showered 
again and generally made myself as clean as possible. Then I doused 
myself with Windsong and paraded around the house after dinner in my 
swimsuit bottoms and a tee-shirt and nothing else and told him I hoped 
he didn't mind watching us, et cetera, and found every excuse I could to 
lean against him.
     At seven, my friends started arriving and at eight he had finished 
calling all the aunts, uncles and cousins he had to touch base with. At 
nine, my brothers were sent to bed and Jeanne, pleading weariness, sacked 
it. Alexis was out on a date and Mom was fading fast. At ten, Dad was 
dressed and ready to leave for work (he always got to work early; Dad was 
a Depression baby and believed in showing up very early) and Mom was 
fighting to stay awake.
     At ten-thirty, it was four of my friends and me and my phantom 
step-brother, who was sitting at the dining room table, reading a 
paperback and scarfing down peanut butter sandwiches.
     At eleven, I sprung my trap. I pulled a chair away from the table 
and sat facing him.
     "Yes?" he asked, looking up from his PB&Js and his book.
     "Antisocial?"
     He grinned and closed the book. "Meaning?"
     "Come in and talk to us. Lisa's here, y'know."
     "Lisa's still five years younger  than  me,"  he  said,  not
inaccurately. "And she'd probably prefer not to be reminded of the potato 
chips."
     I laughed at that. He hadn't forgotten any more than I -- or Lisa 
-- had forgotten. "We'd like you tell us about what it's like being in 
New York."
     He put that stare of his on me. Held it for about a ten-count. Then 
smiled oddly and shook his head. "Somehow, I don't imagine a bunch of 
thirteen-year-old kids really being that interested in life in Brooklyn."
     "Oh, come in and talk to us." I squirmed in mock-coquettishness, 
"There's a bunch of nubile young women waiting fro the pleasure of your 
company."
     I thought he'd choke, holding back  the  laughter.  Finally:
"'Nubile'?" He rose and stood beside my chair. He was wearing faded old 
jeans and a Mets tee-shirt and I was fully prepared to unzip and gulp him 
right then and there. "Lead on," he said, fighting a grin.
     I stood, letting myself get closer than I had to, and drew him by 
the hand into the family room. 
     "Look what I found," I announced. 
     "This calls for a beer," said Dana Connally. And produced same 
from her huge overnight bag. Debbie didn't have much in the way of a 
figure, but what she had, she knew how to use. She was wearing a flannel 
shorty nightgown and it somehow was sexier on her than my filmy little 
peignoir could ever be. I grabbed one of her beers and gulped it. Dan 
merely watched as I let myself fall into the old recliner. He was 
sitting on the old couch, no more than two feet away. Lisa was next to 
him and Dana was on the other side of Lisa from her. The other two, 
Angela and Barb, were on the floor, far, far away and dubious -- and 
fading fast.
     The beer hit me fast and hard. I said things I shouldn't have said, 
even mentioned the potato chips. Dan reached past Dana to put his arm 
around Lisa and said he would have kept them to that very day if they 
hadn't gone stale and soft with age. Lisa blushed and scurried away. 
Debbie squirmed in closer to him and grabbed his hand and held it.
     I was still in the armchair. I asked him if he had a girlfriend and 
tried to steer things in that direction. Occasionally, I made some snide 
remarks to Debbie -- about where she was putting her hand, about how 
short her nightie was -- and generally got stupid.  My  plan  was
dissolving.
     Somehow, the subject turned to comparing Ohio girls with New York 
girls, he said New York girls were more sophisticated in some ways, but 
Ohio girls were a little more direct -- and he liked that.
     "What do you mean?"
     "Well, in New York, girls play games, act like they don't want the 
same things the guys want -- like what they've got is some kind of 
prize, y'know? Here, the girls don't mind letting it be known what they 
like and what they don't want. I like the honesty."
     "You mean girls here are easier."
     "Not 'bad' easier, but...less hung up. Yeah, easier, if honest 
means easy." He paused and grinned. "And healthier."
     "Waddya mean?"
     "Girls out here seem to grow up physically a lot sooner and more 
emphatically."
     He winked at me.
     "You mean, like bigger tits sooner?" Dana asked. 
     "You betcha."
     "Like Marie's?" she asked.
     "Yeah. Too bad she's just a kid."
     I took offense at that and opened the robe of my peignoir. I wasn't 
wearing a bra beneath the chemise and it was all lacy and a little too 
tight on my tits. "Who's a kid?" I demanded.
     "Marie, you're all growed out real good," he said. "But you're my 
sister and you're still too young."
     Blame it on the beer. I ran my hands up and cupped my tits. "'If 
they're big enough, they're old enough.' Isn't that what they say? And 
aren't these big enough?"
     He pulled his gaze from my breasts to my eyes. "Don't fuck with my 
head," he said quietly. "You know I like you, you know I think you're 
sexy and you know you're my sister."
     "And you know were not related by blood, so don;t give me that...or 
are you just mouthing off about me being attractive?"
     "Sure, and the first time I touch you, you'll go screaming."
     "No I won't. Go on -- do it."
     And there, in that dimly lit room, he leaned forward and put his 
hand on my bare shoulder. He slid it down and just barely pressed my 
breasts through the bodice of the chemise. I damn near came right then 
and there. When his palm was over my right nipple, I said, "I'm not 
screaming."
     His fingers closed on my nipple through the satin and he pulled it a 
bit. And said: "Are you trying to prove something to me, to you -- or to 
your friends?"
     For a few minutes, it had just been him and me,  but  now  I
remembered the others sitting around and I thought of the stories they 
would tell...
     He took his hand away. "I think it's time to call it a night. Enjoy 
your party, girls." He got up and went into the living room, where his 
pullout was.
     There were more beers and then we all sort of crashed, there on the 
floor, on the couch and on cushions and Angie just sprawled on some 
blankets and slept. The beer took its toll on me and I was out pretty 
fast.
     It took another toll, too. Around dawn I got up to pee and that was 
when I heard the noises in the living room. I crept silently to the 
corner, at the place where the stairs went up, and that was when I saw 
Dana betray me.
     Dan was sitting on the living room couch, perched on the edge of 
the cushion, and Dana was straddling him. They were kissing hot and wet 
and with a lot of tongue. I watched him slide his hands up under her 
nightgown and then he was lifting it. She didn't have much in the way 
of tits, but what she had got plenty of attention. Dan licked and kissed 
and sucked those hard little mounds while she, all long and lean and 
lanky and sinuous, held his face against them. 
     He moved one hand down to rub around he cunt. She didn't have much 
hair down there, but she had what he was looking or -- and vice versa. I 
could hear his finger squish into her and her breathing got faster.
     I also heard his soft sigh when he pulled his dick out through the 
opening in his briefs and settled her onto it. Dana was taller than me 
by a good seven or eight inches, but her hips and butt were almost as 
small as mine and she had to work her way down onto him. I only got a 
glimpse, but his cock was about average length and a little thicker than 
most and hard as a bar of iron. It was a tight fit and all the time she 
was settling onto it, he kept licking and sucking her nipples.
     I could have killed her. I was the one who wanted him! Besides -- 
he was MY brother!
     He put his hands on her skinny hips and guided her as she worked up 
and down, back and forth. She was long-legged, Dana was, and had her 
feet on the floor on either side of his legs. She did the work, but I 
could hear both of them breathing harder and I could hear her cunt suck 
and squish on him as she moved up and down.
     He settled against the back of the couch, his butt still perched at 
the edge of the cushion, and moved his hands up to hold her forearms as 
she leaned back. Both of them began moving, faster and faster.I saw her 
bite her lower lip when she started to cum and then he hunched his hips 
up at her and held them there and I knew he was cumming in her.
     Damn her!
     He pulled her forward against him and I heard his dick slurp out o 
her as he kissed her lips and cradled her to him, exactly the way and 
the time I'd always wanted.
     She slithered out of his arms an knelt between his leg and kissed 
and sucked his spermy dick until it was clean. Then she rearranged her 
nightgown and whispered something to him.
     I scurried back to my cushions on the floor just before  she
reappeared in the TV room. All I could think of was the fact that she 
had his cum in her cunt, and I did not.
     I spent most of the next day sulking. I was not a good hostess to 
Angela and Barb and I was downright rude to Dana. And she seemed to know 
I knew what had gone on and worse, to know I was wildly jealous. I 
determined to make my phantom step-brother spend a lot of time dating 
the Palm Sisters by showing off my assets for him whenever I could get 
away with it. The problem was that I didn't get much of a chance. That 
day he went out to a small town about 45 miles from our house to visit 
other relatives and the next day he went out there again. Our mutual 
cousin Shana explained: Dan apparently had developed a terrific crush on 
Dorothy, a friend of hers with a sweet face, a gentle disposition and a 
Body by Hefner.
     Shana was willing to talk about it in some detail. She and Dan had 
kept up a regular correspondence year-round -- which I'd known about for 
quite a while -- and they had a lot to talk about. She'd arranged for a 
bunch of her friends from school -- most of whom were close to her and 
Dan's age -- to wander over to the Dairy Queen by the quarry-cum-town-
swimming-hole and Hang Out. He and Dorothy had taken an immediate shine 
to each other, which was no surprise in either direction. Shana knew 
there'd been some smooching and groping, but doubted it had gone very 
much farther than that. Dorothy had a reputation for politely-but-firmly 
refusing to Go Too Far.
     It was enough to put Dorothy on my perpetual hit list, thinking 
about her acting like a priss and leaving my gorgeous Dan with blue 
balls. Grrrrrr.
     The next day he spent helping Mom around the house and with her 
chores and I spent most of it flashing him. It had an effect, much to my 
pleasure. I kept thinking, Look what you missed and eat your heart out! 
     What I really wanted, though, was to tell him to eat me.
     The next day, a Friday, he was going out there again. This time he 
was to stay over with Aunt Mimi -- Shana's Mom -- and I decided it was 
time to cultivate Shana's little sister, Irene. She was about my age, 
but looked a lot more like it, maybe even less. But she was bright and a 
bit hyperactive and jealous of the girls who, like Annette Funicello, 
"already got theirs" and determined to prove herself in competition with 
them, i.e., get the guys. She hadn't seen Dan yet on this visit -- she'd 
been away at a horse farm for a couple of days -- and was really looking 
forward to the visit. Eventually, by clever manipulation and downright 
lying, I lured her into "deciding" it would be nice for me to stay for 
an overnighter at the same time Dan did. 
     The way I figured it, I would wait until Dan got back from what was 
sure to be a heated and -- ultimately -- frustrating evening with 
Dorothy and then I'd have him! Aha!
     Shana and Dan kissed lightly and sweetly, a non-erotic peck of 
warmth and greeting and then we all piled into the Blue Bomb -- a seven-
year-old Buick she was entitled to drive by virtue of her age and 
relatively rural location. I would have been pleased and excited at the 
start of my little adventure, except that Shana had a  passenger:
Dorothy.
     She was absolutely lovely and unselfconsciously sexy at the same 
time, with her dark hair and flawless complexion and full lips and wide 
eyes and that amazing damn body with those fantastically firm, full tits 
under a tee-shirt and barely contained by a bra I was sure she wore more 
for modesty than support. She was sixteen and in full bloom. I think of 
how she looked through the window of the Blue Bomb and I can understand 
why it was not unusual for our grandparents and great-grandparents to 
marry at fifteen and sixteen. 
     Shana made some joke about it, but I didn't laugh when I found 
myself in the front seat with my cousin...leaving Dorothy and Dan in the 
back. The held hands tightly through the entire forty-minute drive. I 
dared sneak only two or three glances back at them all the time.
     Those Buicks were big. There was plenty of room. Most of it was 
unused because they were very close together.
     Still, it was impossible to keep a mad on at Aunt Mimi's. She and 
Uncle Don got married when she was fifteen and he was seventeen and the 
love between them pervaded the entire old ramshackle house. She was a 
big, rawboned, horsy-faced lady of indeterminate years and great big 
laughing eyes that made you forget the moustache that never seemed to go 
away (no matter what she did) and the little stubble of a beard s'help 
me on her chin. She made a fuss over Dan, of course, and over me and 
kidded me about the way my figure had developed. Somehow, the way she 
did it, made it seem remarkable that I had such a body, but perfectly 
Okay and Set Yerself Down Here and Have Some Pop and Tell Yer Old Aunt 
Mimi What You've Been Up To, Why Doncha? We had dropped Dorothy at her 
house and Dan was nice and polite and went into the back yard to talk 
with Shana about her drawings and her first pastels.
     All of which was fine until we heard car doors slam. Dan went into 
the living room to greet Irene. She was all lithe and lean and tousled 
blonde hair and little kiddish with tiny bumps inside her shirt and she 
greeted Dan by jumping him!
     Yeah, she literally jumped up on him, wrapping her arms around his 
neck and her legs around his hips. She kissed him right on the mouth, 
hard and maybe deep and Dan went all red in the face and pulled her off 
him. I could see a bulge in his cutoff jeans. He tried to hide it, but 
failed. Irene had two of her little friends with her and a few minutes 
later, cousin Timmy -- Shana's big brother and Aunt Mimi's oldest -- 
came in. 
     Timmy was Dan's age and a really ruggedly handsome guy even then. 
Unfortunately, some of the circuits in his head didn't work. Timmy 
couldn't deal with books and reading or any kind of pressure; he would 
go into these fits. And he was not particularly gentle, either. Timmy 
did what he liked and could get away with.  I  was  never  really
comfortable around him and I could see Dan wasn't, either, but he was 
polite and tried to be warm, which was more than I could do. See, any 
time Timmy was alone with me, he was always grabbing my tits -- hard.
     I had to follow through with my charade and immediately diverted 
Irene -- who seemed reluctant to leave Dan, which bothered me. She took 
me to her room an I went through what was probably the bonding ritual of 
girls our age at that time, discussing boys, the Beatles, clothes, the 
Beatles, jealousies, the Beatles, free love, the Beatles, the new 
Rolling Stones poster (clearly showing Mick's bulge) and, of course, the 
Beatles.
     [My favorite was George. Okay? Thank you.]
     We listened to some 45s and then we were going over to the DQ -- 
     [Dairy Queen.]
     -- to hang out. I was very agreeable to this, as I knew that 
eventually, Dan and Dorothy would show up there. The adjacent park -- 
Veteran's -- was about the only place they could go and fool around, 
since neither had wheels. I hated the idea, yet I wanted to see them 
together. I dunno why; I just did.
     Anyhow, going over to the DQ and meeting Irene's friends was about 
as exciting as I expected -- deadly dull. The boys in the crowd were 
typical of boys my age, which is to say I had outgrown them a long time 
ago, but they kept trying to "accidentally" touch my tits or get me 
alone. 
     After what seemed like years there, Irene and I walked back to her 
house. She told me she was glad I had spurned -- she used that word -- 
the boys who were turned on by my tits. She hoped that would help them 
look for other qualities in a girl.
     I told her to hold her breath till they were nineteen or so.
     She asked, How do you know? and I, like an idiot, told her a little 
bit and hinted at more.
     [Why "like an idiot"? Listen -- and stop interrupting me -- and I'll 
tell you.]
     Well, Irene decided that meant she could tell me stuff. Like, for 
one, she'd Done It. She wouldn't tell me who, but she had done it and 
more than once and she liked it. A lot. She also told me that at some 
point during the day -- probably when she went downstairs to get the 
disgusting Cherry Kool-Aid for us -- she'd been briefly alone with Dan 
and kissed him again and touched his hard on. He'd made her stop.
     He'd told her she was a little young for that and she'd told him 
she was more than willing to give him a demonstration of her abilities 
and he'd told her she should wait a little longer for that.
     By the time she finished the tale -- and we were nearing her house, 
in the dark small-town Ohio July night -- her nipples were stiff as 
pencil points inside her sadly flat tee-shirt.
     "And I really want to -- y'know -- DO IT with him now."
     That was when we heard the noise from the side of the house. 
Quietly, we crept to the edge of the hedge and looked.
     My phantom step-brother was licking Dorothy's nipples.
     They were clinching in the shadows near a tree -- an elm,  I
remember distinctly -- and he had her light shirt raised and her bra 
opened. Her breasts were truly magnificent and he was giving them their 
due. He cupped them gently in his hand -- they needed hardly any support 
of any kind, as large and thrusting as they were -- and was running his 
lips over and around them and then licking and sucking her nipples. Her 
flush was visible even in the shadows. Her cutoff clad legs were wide 
and he was rubbing his hand over the tightly-stretched denim over her 
cunt and she was rubbing up against his fingers.
     I was horrified and turned on at the same time. 
     "Do you think they're gonna do it?" Irene whispered.
     I just shook my head, unwilling to trust my voice.
     I watched him caress those lovely sixteen-year-old tits and the 
damp jeans taut over her swampy sixteen-year-old cunt and I was sure he 
was going to fuck her...but when he tried to unsnap the waist of the 
cutoffs, she stopped him. Again and again, no matter how turned on they 
got, she stopped him.
     As I'd expected.
     They were at that awful point where she was rubbing his dick 
through his now-very-tight jeans and he was rubbing her pussy hard 
enough to split the soaked fabric of her jeans and I was ready to stand 
up and march over and offer to take over for her, since she seemed 
unwilling to do the right thing herself. At that very point the side 
door opened and the outside light came on -- one of those yellow things 
that's not supposed to attract bugs but always does -- and Shana stuck 
her head out.
     "Hey, you guys -- getting late." And ducked back in.
     They stayed there in the shadows for a few minutes more, murmuring 
and cuddling and then she stood and he stood and they clinched and then 
she walked off alone down the safe summer streets of that little town.
     Dan had a huge bulge in the front of his jeans. He stood, watching 
her until she was out of sight, and then sighed and went inside. 
     "Did you see his hard-on?" Irene whispered excitedly. "The way his 
jeans were all stuck out from it?" She giggled. I glanced at her. Even 
in the shadows I could see her flush -- and the stiff points of her 
nipples against her shirt. "Isn't he hot?"
     I nodded and thought about it. My plan was foolproof. He'd just 
spent about forty minutes getting turned on by her and needed relief. So 
far so good. He was going to be staying over in the same house as me. 
Still good. Aunt Mimi's snoring would pretty much have immunized everyone 
in the house against waking at small sounds. Right on track. And Dan was 
going to be mooning over Dorothy and that was bad. He was such  a
romantic -- not that he'd ever admit it -- that he'd probably not even 
look at another woman, let alone a girl who happened to be his step-
sister. It would be like Dan to think of that as being unfaithful.
     "We'd better go inside," I said. Irene and I sneaked through the 
bushes, then walked loudly down the sidewalk and entered the front door. 
Dan was sitting up with Shana, watching an Outer Limits  episode.
Everyone else was sleeping. We got some pop and sat with him for a 
while. Irene excused herself after a while and came back in a shorty 
nightgown. You could glimpse her lean silhouette through it, but that 
didn't make any difference; there wasn't much to see.
     Shana said that looked like a good idea and did the same. With her 
lustrous, dark curls and dark flashing eyes, she looked so lovely that I 
began to think about her, for the first time, as a woman and not as my 
sweet cousin. 
     As the show ended and the news came on WTOL, channel 11 -- which we 
had to watch to get the scores for his damn ol' Mets -- I excused myself 
and changed, too. I'd brought just a simple, summer-light  shorty
nightgown. I didn't bother with a bra. 
     When I came back in the room, Shana -- always forthright -- said, 
"My goodness, Marie! Where did you ever get those big, uh, bosoms? You 
make me feel positively flat-chested!"
     "How do you think she makes me feel?" Irene murmured.
     "They were on sale at Tiedtke's," I said. 
     "Don't you think Marie has a great figure, Dan?" Shana asked.
     "Fantastic," he said. "Sometimes I wish she wasn't my sister or a 
kid."
     "Some kid," Shana said. "When I grow up, I want to have a bod like 
that `kid'!" Then sports report came on and Dan made us all shut up while he 
listened to how his damn ol' Mets had lost to the Dodgers. After the 
news came the late show -- Forbidden Planet. Shana had to get up at six 
for her job at the Five & Dime. She gave Dan a peck on the cheek and 
said good-night and admonished Irene and I not to stay up too late. Then 
she went upstairs to bed. I heard her washing up and then I heard the 
door to her room close and lock. I went to the kitchen and got more pop.
     I made sure to walk in front of the TV and sit up on the floor at 
an angle. After a few minutes, Irene said, "Marie, you better move. I 
can see right through that gown in the TV light. And so can Dan."
     "Oh, don't worry," I said, never taking my eyes off the TV. "He's 
my step-brother and I'm just a kid. He probably doesn't even notice."
     "I notice."
     "I noticed you noticed," Irene chipped in. I looked this time, when 
Irene started to giggle. Dan was blushing. He had another hard-on.
     "Irene!" I said.
     "You, too!" She pointed. I looked down. My nipples were hard and 
pointed and clearly so for being silhouetted. "Nice view."
     "I don't care who looks," I said. "It doesn't bother Dan."
     "Well, actually, it does."
     I turned and looked right at him. "Does it really?"
     He nodded. "And you know it."
     Irene suddenly made a great show of yawning. "Well, I'm going to 
hit the hay. See ya in the morning!" She gave Dan a big wet kiss right 
on the lips, holding his face with her hands and making the kiss longer 
than it should have been, and then she went upstairs, too.
     I was still staring at Dan. "Want me to move?"
     He nodded. I was starting to think my plan had a chance, after all.
     I stood and took my time walking toward him, staying between the TV 
and him. His eyes were on my tits. "That was some good night kiss."
     "Yes."
     "I can top that." I bent at the waist and watched his eyes follow 
my tits as the nighty drooped and gave him a good  view.  Then  I
duplicated Irene's action: I took his face in my hands and kissed him on 
the lips. And -- maybe -- added a wrinkle of my own by pressing at his 
lips with my tongue until he finally let it in. By the time I drew my 
lips away, I was dripping wet and wondered if he could smell my juices. 
I kissed him again and this time took his hands and led them to me, till 
he was cupping my tits.
     He started to fondle my breasts -- and suddenly pulled his hands 
away and pushed me gently away.
     "Don't," he said. "This is wrong."
     "I want -- "
     "It's still wrong, to me."
     I stood in front of him. "But you want me, I know you do."
     He nodded. "A lot. And doubly because -- well, you know."
     "Know what?"
     He changed the subject abruptly: "That was you watching Dorothy and 
me, wasn't it?"
     "You knew?"
     He looked at me as if the question was stupid. 
     I countered: "Well, I won't leave you all frustrated."
     He groaned softly. "Dammit, Marie, don't tempt me like this. I want 
us to be friends."
     "And we can't be friends and do that, too?"
     "You know we can't."
     I looked down at him. His dick was sticking up like a tent pole 
inside his jeans. His breathing was shallow and fast. His lips had been 
sweet and I kept thinking what it would be like to have him mouthing my 
breasts the way he'd been doing it with Dorothy and I was terribly 
annoyed, because I knew that when Dan dug in his heels, nothing was 
going to move him.
     "Damn you!" I hissed and stalked upstairs. I sat in the bathroom 
for a long time, trying to calm down, then I took a hot bath  and
masturbated like crazy. It didn't help enough.
     Finally, sometime around one, I went and crawled onto the mattress 
in the middle of the floor in Irene's room. I slept, frustrated and 
horny. But not soundly.
     Which was why I woke when Irene got up. I could almost get back to 
sleep, so I lay there quietly and tried to will sleep. After a while, I 
realized she hadn't come back to bed and there was no noise in the 
bathroom.
     I got up to investigate. All the other doors -- to Shana's room and 
her brother's room and my aunt and uncle's room -- were closed on the 
second floor. So I crept quietly down the stairs. The TV was still on, 
the sound very low. The TV was the only source of light in the room. It 
was enough. There were plants on a little opening in the stairwell and I 
peered between the leaves. My tan and dark complexion helped, too. 
Natural born commando, that was me.
     Irene was sitting next to Dan on the floor in front of the couch. 
She had some crackerjacks in one hand. The bowl was on the other side of 
Dan from her. She was looking at his crotch and he was looking at her 
face. I could just hear what they were saying as Forbidden Planet was 
getting close to the end.
     "Why do you keep touching me there, Irene?" Dan said. "You wouldn't 
like it if I was always touching you there."
     She shrugged and munched her Crackerjacks. "I like it. Don't you? 
Timmy likes it, all the time. I touch him lots of ways."
     "What ways?"
     She swallowed the last of her confection. "Promise you won't tell 
and I'll show you."
     He hesitated a long time. I could see his cock throbbing inside his 
jeans. Finally, he nodded. "Promise."
     She slowly put her hand over his dick-bulge and then and unzipped 
his jeans. She reached inside and fished out his dick. It stood straight 
up. She gripped it tightly in her little hand and jerked a little on it.
     His breathing got shallower. 
     "You can touch me, too, y'know," Irene said, leaning over and 
staring up intently into his face. Her hair was all disheveled and sun-
blonde and her face was cute, but very sensual. Her eyes said she knew 
exactly what she was doing. "Please?"
     She turned sideways, kneeling spread-legged next to him. She took 
his hand and led it between her legs, under her nighty. I knew when he 
began caressing her, because her eyes half closed and her mouth opened 
a bit.
     She bent and licked the head of his cock and he groaned softly. She 
kept licking and jerking and then she stiffened and I knew he was 
sliding his finger into her little slit. Her skinny young hips began 
hunching up and down. 
     She released his cock and unfastened his pants, He lifted his butt 
as she pulled them down his thighs. He kicked them off the rest of the 
way, because her hands had gone back to his dick and his balls. She 
opened her mouth and took the head of his prick inside and I watched him 
again lift his hips and heard him murmur, "Damn, damn, damn..."
     She took his other hand and led it to the front of her nightgown. 
He searched for and found her nipples and rubbed them, then moved his 
hand to her head and caressed her face. She opened her mouth and spread 
her lips wide to take more of his thick cock in her mouth. She had soft, 
full lips, but she was small and her mouth was small for her face and 
she had it filled with just the head of his cock.
     She began bobbing her head up and down on him, still jerking with 
one small hand. She shifted back to get her face lower over him. The 
girl was young, but she definitely knew how to suck cock and  she
definitely was enjoying herself. Dan was arching toward her.
     "I'm gonna -- gonna -- "
     "Mmm-HMMM!" It was muffled, but definitely affirmative. She reached 
down with her other hand and began caressing his balls -- of which I had 
a great view -- and then he started to cum.
     She sucked and gurgled and swallowed and he came for what seemed a 
long time. She was utterly intent on sucking and drinking him.  I
couldn't even feel jealous -- just envious. She was jerking with her 
hand harder and faster and I watched her little cheeks concave and bloat 
and saw her throat work as she swallowed. He came a lot and some slipped 
out around her lips, lubricating her hand on his shaft.
     Finally, his spasms became irregular and then slowed and then 
stopped. She sucked his limpening dick in and pushed it partially out of 
her mouth rapidly, like a little kid playing with a piece of spaghetti. 
He sank back to the floor and groaned, deep and relieved.
     She let his prick slide out of her mouth and it flopped between his 
legs. Her lips were all slick and spermy, and so was his cock. 
     He pulled her up to him and cuddled her close, but she was having 
none of that. She pulled her nightgown up over her head and jammed one 
enormously swollen nipple into his mouth. He took it greedily, licking 
it and maybe even chewing a little on it.
     Irene sighed and pulled his hand back between her legs. Her ass was 
so tiny and her body was so lean and smooth! It was all glistening with 
perspiration and she looked slippery and sinuous as an eel -- a sexy 
young eel. He reached back and squeezed her cheeks, then slid his 
fingers back and caressed her little, smooth cunt. Finally, he extended 
Badfinger and she settled happily onto it and jerked her hips up and 
down. I could see his cock re-erecting. In no time at all, it was hard 
again, solid as a brick and looking just as thick compared to her lithe 
slenderness.
     She murmured something to him I couldn't hear. His reply was audible: 
"But I'm afraid of hurting you."
     She said something that was obviously reassuring and shifted so she 
was straddling him. 
     "First, I want this," he said. His hands came around and cupped -- 
and covered -- her ass. He guided her until she was standing over him, 
with his head resting back against the couch and then he began to eat 
her.
     Now I was definitely jealous, because from the way he ate her, I 
knew she was getting it good. He licked and sucked and nibbled and 
mouthed and tongued her. I watched her ass clench and her hips hunch 
and I watched her thighs shake as she came and came again. I could see 
her juices on his chin. He worked his hands around her farther and slid 
one finger against the back of her cunt and she shook above him. He 
worked the finger of another hand between those tightly squeezed, corded 
masses of hard little ass and she pushed back and against it, taking it 
into her teeny butt-hole to the first joint. I saw her tense until every 
muscle in her back was clearly defined and great beads of sweat popped 
out all over her body and she came again. 
     Finally she couldn't stand and he lowered her against him. She 
sobbed into his shoulder and shivered again as he caressed her back and 
kissed her forehead. She said something to soft for me to hear.
     -- and I heard him say, incredulously, "Never? No one? But you 
taste so sweet, how can anyone resist?"
     "The same way you resist Marie." That was clear enough. My eyes 
widened, and there was no one to see them.
     He looked troubled for a moment, but then she was sliding down 
until her little cunt was nestled against the throbbing thickness of 
his glans. She eased herself up and reached down in her crouch to spread 
her labia and then she slowly worked her cunt onto the knob.
     "Damn that feels good, cousin Dan!"
     She worked her way down onto him, impaling herself on my step-
brother's solid dick. It stretched her little cunt a lot, and she really 
seemed to be enjoying it. She was very wet, and when she'd taken it all 
and began raising herself up again, his emerging cock was shining 
brightly in the light of the television.
     She levered herself up and down, faster and faster, groaning 
and sighing as he panted: "You're so tight and hot -- Ahhhh!"
     I watched him move one hand out of sight, on her front to nipple 
height. She jammed herself down and shook against him, vibrating those 
narrow, prepubescent hips over him. His balls started to jerk. Then he 
moved his hand lower and twisted his arm and I guessed: He was moving 
his thumb over her clitoris. She shook faster and harder and then held 
herself still against him and quietly shrieked her pleasure. His balls 
pulled up tight and throbbed and I could see her cunt lips stretch and 
thin around his fat prick as it swelled with each spurt. She grabbed his 
face and kissed him hard and long as he came in her and she came with 
him.
     They collapsed together and lay like that for a long time. She 
pulled her little cunt off his cock slowly and then put her nighty back 
on.
     "Promise you won't tell?"
     "No one," he vowed.
     She giggled. "Can we do it again -- soon?"
     "I hope so, Irene. That was terrific." He pulled himself upright 
and slid back into his jeans. "But not tonight."
     She giggled again. "Y'know, Marie wants to do that with you."
     He nodded as he sat heavily on the couch and ad on the television 
began touting the great deal at Bender's Buick on Alexis Road. "I'd like 
to do it with her, too, but I can't."
     "Why not? You're not blood relations any more than you and I are."
     "Because she's special, in a different way. Some day we'll need to 
be able to talk to each other in a special way and this -- " He nodded 
toward her and the place where they'd fucked. "-- would get in the way. 
I'm not sure why, but I don't think it's a good idea."
     "Well, if you'd rather do it with me than with someone with a bod 
like hers, that's not a problem for me!" She was positively glowing. She 
gave him a big kiss and I took that as my cue to go into fake slumber 
mode where they both figured I should be: On the mattress in Irene's 
room.
     I had a lot to think about. For one thing, I'd just watched my 
little -- in every sense of the word -- cousin do everything but rape my 
step-brother. And she'd enjoyed it as much as she'd confided she enjoyed 
fucking. And I'd just heard her put in a pitch on my behalf! And I'd 
just heard Dan tell her what he'd never told me: Some of the reason why 
he kept restraining himself and me from getting it on.
     I didn't mean to, but I dozed off pretty fast and resented waking 
in the sunlit morning. No matter. I did. Irene never told me of her 
escapade with Dan and I couldn't very well ask, could I? 
     Dan and Dorothy never got together again -- she kept putting him 
off, the fool -- and the Fourth came and went and then so was he, back 
to his city and his girlfriends there. I was left with memories and 
fantasies and questions. I sort of coasted through the rest of the 
summer, developing just as fast as I before. It seemed like only a few 
days before school began.
     School. My freshman year in high school. I remember it vividly -- 
because that was the year the stolen pictures and the shots taken by Ed 
Sautter came back to haunt me and hurt me more than I had been hurt 
since -- well, since the first time.
     [Later. I promise.]



CHAPTER 11

     I spent most of the rest of the summer getting even with Dana and 
Irene and -- most of all -- Dan...in my mind. I fucked everyone I could 
and with the figure I had, I could get just about anyone I wanted. And I 
wanted a lot. Just before Labor Day, I hitched a ride out to Perrysburg 
with three Mexicans. I was so dark and swarthy that they assumed I was 
Mexican and were surprised that I didn't understand their Spanish. Only 
one of them spoke English and he wasn't very good with it. None of them 
was more than eighteen. I was wearing a bandeau under a tee-shirt and a 
pair of shorts and this goofy straw hat. It was really hot -- about 
ninety degrees and there was no breeze. They were riding in an old 
junker of a Rambler that didn't have a good muffler in it.
     The one who spoke English asked me how old I was. When I told him I 
was fourteen -- lying by two years -- and he translated, there was some 
muttering from the others.
     "We are unhappy. We believed you to have more years." He seemed 
genuinely sad.
     Well, I could understand the mistake. I measured 29-19-26 and would 
have worn a C cup if there'd been such a thing in a bra that size. I was 
taut and smooth and with my hair long and tousled, I could easily pass 
for older. So I said that was no reason to be sad and he said, Yes, it 
was, because they had thought I might like to have some fun, but I was 
too young.
     Now, I'd always heard stories and bad jokes -- What's a 10-year-old 
Mexican virgin? A girl who can outrun her brothers -- and politely tried 
to explain I'd thought 14 was not too young for a girl to have fun, if 
she was Mexican.
     They were unhappy at that. Every one of them had brothers and 
sisters my "age" and younger and they were very proud that their sibs -- 
     [Siblings. Am I going too fast for you?
     [Yeah, I know. I'm just feeling kind of bitchy and edgy. Ready?]
     Well, they were proud that their little brothers and sisters were 
pure and went to church regularly.
     I turned and looked at the two in the back and then again at the 
one in the front and said, I like to have fun, I have been having fun 
for a long time and would they like have some fun with me?
     We want to an old maintenance shanty near the rail yards. They'd 
adopted it and fixed it up as best they could with no money and had 
turned it into a kind of club house. It was clearly bachelor -- covered 
with pinups from Playboy -- but it was neat and clean and they were 
polite and solicitous.
     I didn't get to Perrysburg. I stayed there with them for about five 
hours. They were young, they were horny and they were incredibly virile. 
I had each of them three or four times. One of them -- the oldest -- 
wanted to try me in the ass, but as soon as I told him it was hurting, 
he stopped, apologized and withdrew. Oddly, though they were fascinated 
by nearly hairless pussy, none of them would eat me. Which was okay, as 
it turned out, because they had a good-natured contest of seeing who 
could make me cum the most often just by fucking. 
     [I forget. No -- wait: I won.]
     They took turns, and they only time anyone was at all rough was 
when they touched my tits. Even then, it wasn't that they were mauling 
me; all three worked as day laborers and had very rough and calloused 
hands. 
     One of the pinups on the wall was Gwen Wong, this Playmate with 
huge tits and long nipples and a very young face. One of the guys said 
that if my eyes were slanted, I could look a lot like her. The other two 
protested that I was prettier. And we fucked some more.
     I was sore for three days, but never regretted it.
     Then school started, my freshman year, and it was inevitable that 
I'd be invited to try out for cheerleader. I had no interest in that, 
though, and my refusal caused some resentment. The only extracurriculars 
-- official extracurriculars, that is -- I wanted anything to do with 
were gymnastics (which wouldn't have me because my figure was too 
pronounced for exhibition in a leotard) and the school paper.
     The school paper was a joke. We couldn't print anything the school 
didn't like or anything unpleasant. It was more of a pep sheet than 
anything else. We did personality profiles on the administration's 
favorites, the good examples -- never on the interesting students or 
activities. Still, it was fun to have official permission to go up to 
strangers and ask nosy questions. 
     I wasn't seeing George anymore, of course, as he'd told me about 
meeting his distant cousin and they were mad for each other and that was 
that. We remained friends. But I didn't have a steady and satisfying 
boyfriend, not like George, and I was still trying to work the summer's 
non-events with Dan out of my head. So I was trolling.
     The problem was that in such a strictly supervised environment, I 
had to be very careful with my schoolmates. Since the town was already 
starting to split over the Vietnam War protests, the cops were enforcing 
the old curfew laws on kids under sixteen, so I couldn't just go and 
hang out much, either.
     Then the campaigns started for class presidents. I did a couple of 
interviews and heard the usual crap from all the candidates. Even the 
one who was being drafted. He didn't really want the job or the nonsense 
that went with it, but time and again he'd been the one to come up with 
innovative ideas for persistent problems and twice he'd successfully 
mediated disputes -- once, over an antiwar protest and once over race.
     But after the interview was over, he said something that really got 
my interest.
     "One thing I'd suggest would be giving class credit for volunteer 
work." 
     I took out my notebook but he stopped me. His name was Tyrell 
Hamilton, he was six feet tall and handsome and well-spoken and about 
the shade of Mom's coffee after she added a tablespoon of milk.
     "Don't bother," he said. "They'll never let you print it. And 
they'll never go along with it when I suggest it."
     I kept the notebook out. I was taking Gregg Shorthand and doing 
real well with it. 
     [Yes. And I brought it. See? And these are verbatim notes.]
     "Why do you think it's important?"
     He laughed softly. "Because -- Look around you. Eight hundred 
students. About three dozen aren't white. Maybe a hundred don't come 
from middle- or upper-class homes. All Catholic. We are so much alike 
here that we have no idea how the rest of Toledo lives."
     "You think we need more integration, is that it?" I was a little 
suspicious.
     "Not racial integration," he said. "Social integration. The only 
reason there aren't more Afro-Americans here is there aren't more Afro-
Americans who have the money and the academic qualifications. The nuns 
and the other students here generally don't give a damn about that."
     "There're exceptions."
     "There're always exceptions." We were walking slowly down the first 
floor corridor toward the parking lot. The place was almost empty. From 
far, far away I could hear the echoes of cheerleading practice and 
someone was dribbling a basketball. "But even there, we're too much 
alike. The real world has poor people and rich people. It has 
Protestants and Jews and atheists. It has Birchers and antiwar 
activists. It has bigots. It has thieves and muggers and bums and 
saints."
     "We'll meet them soon enough."
     He held the door for me. "That's my point. We get out of school 
here and about half go to college and some go into the army and some 
move away, but we all meet the real world -- and we don't have the 
faintest idea how to deal with it. We meet people who are fundamentally 
different and it scares us and we get uptight and we don't react well. 
And they don't react well to us."
     "So it feeds on itself."
     We were in the middle of the nearly empty parking lot. He spun, his 
eyes bright and his face animated. "Yes! And the hatred and suspicion 
and fear takes charge -- and all because we're inexperienced: We have no 
education in people!"
     "And you think encouraging supervised volunteer work would help us 
get some experience with different people in different situations."
     "Within the context of a goal-oriented guidance system and with the 
benefit -- "
     " -- of more experienced leaders who can teach us how to evaluate 
and respond -- "
     " -- to unfamiliar and sometimes frightening circumstances! Yes!"
     "And then, when we go into the real world, we understand a little 
more, because we've already tested ourselves in strange waters -- "
     " -- and found that we can swim, because we learned to do it -- "
     " -- in a school?" 
     I groaned at the pun.
     "Sounds fishy?" he asked innocently.
     "Holy mackerel."
     "No, it's 'Holy mackerel dere, Kingfish.'"
     "I guess I just don't have any soul."
     "But you're still one smart filly."
     I frowned.
     "Filly of soul?" he suggested.
     I groaned again.
     We both started laughing. Tyrell offered to drive me home. I didn't 
think twice. We talked more on the way. We really hit it off, instant 
chemistry, and it had started from the neck up, for a change.
     He let me out in front of my house and I waved good-bye. Inside, 
Jeanne was home, and Mom. Jeanne immediately pulled me into our room.
     "Marie, did you -- you know?"
     I stared at her. "What?"
     "Who was that?"
     I told her and she said, "Well, does he really have a big one? They 
say all of them have huge -- " The look on my face stunned her.
     "Jeanne, I interviewed him for the paper and he gave me a ride 
home."
     "You didn't do it with him?" 
     "No -- though now that you mention it, it's not such a bad idea, I 
mean, he is awful good-looking and ..."
     "Marie! He's a nigger!"
     I was the one who was stunned this time. How had we grown up 
together and been so close -- so very close -- without me knowing this 
about her? Because we never encountered anyone who was really different.
     "Jeanne, he's a man who's a little darker than me. A smart, polite, 
good-looking man. I think he and I might get to be friends. And don't you 
ever use that word in front of me again."
     She seemed a little shocked by that and I suppose I was, too. 
Socially conscious Marie -- as of about forty minutes before. But it was 
true. Something had happened to me during the time after the interview 
with Tyrell Hamilton. Something burned inside him and the flames had 
caught me, too. My main concerns had been getting laid, passing my 
class, getting laid, wondering when they were going to have a sale at 
Penney's, getting laid and getting even with Dana and Irene. Suddenly, I 
was thinking about things that were in the far distant future, beyond 
the great dividing line of Graduation, beyond 1971, which was a date 
lost in tomorrow. Suddenly, I was thinking about things like 
responsibility and understanding and harmony.
     And I was spending a lot of time thinking about Tyrell. Well, was 
it true what they say?
     [Yes, I saw Blazing Saddles. Okay?]
     I started spending more and more time with the juniors and seniors 
than I already was -- which was a lot, since I found most of the kids 
who were my age were kind of backward. I started hanging out with the 
crowd Tyrell spent time with. And pretty soon, I was fairly regularly 
sitting next to him at our basketball games -- and thus having him drive 
me home.
     After the fifth game -- against Penta; we lost -- I got impatient. 
"Ty, aren't you ever going to ask me out?"
     We were at a grade-crossing, waiting for an endless freight to 
pass, down by East Broadway. He waiting about a three-count and turned 
his face toward me. "You have to be kidding."
     "Why?"
     "You're white and I'm not and you're not even 13 yet!"
     "So?"
     "Are you nuts? I'm almost eighteen!"
     "So? I want you, Ty."
     "So? That's statutory rape and considering that I'm not white, the 
police will probably fire five or six warning shots -- into the back of 
my little burr head!"
     "Ty! You know me! We're friends, for crying out loud."
     "And that's fine -- but that's it, girl." He watched me. "What the 
hell are you doing?"
     What I was doing, for the benefit of those who weren't there, was 
pulling my sweater off and unbuttoning my blouse.
     "Guess."
     "Marie!"
     The blouse was off and I was reaching back and under for the hooks 
on my ill-fitting bra. A moment later and it was gone, too, and not only 
did it feel good to have the constriction of my tits, it made me feel 
somehow wild and free to be sitting there with my boobs bare in his car 
so anyone could look in -- even in the dark -- and see me.
     "Tyrell Leroy Hamilton, you will not be my first and you probably 
won't be my last and if you don't promise to make love with me I am 
going to jump out of this car and yell, `Help! This nigger's trying to 
rape me!'" 
     "Marie, I want you."
     His words, so calm and easy and serious, froze me. 
     "But you're trying to take charge of me and I won't have that. Be 
my friend and we may become lovers, some day -- but I won't have an 
owner for a friend or a lover."
     I hadn't thought of it that way. I started pulling my blouse back 
on. The caboose of the endless freight rumbled slowly by. Behind us, car 
engines were starting. I felt like a shit.
     "I'm sorry."
     He was shaking his head as the crossing gates came up and we 
started across the tracks.
     We drove across the tracks in silence. We drove down to East 
Broadway in silence. As we pulled up onto the road that would take us 
back to my house, I finally said, "Dammit, Ty, say something?"
     "You have truly amazing breasts. I didn't know they were so big or 
lovely."
     "I'd really like you to get more acquainted with them. And more."
     "Doesn't sound all bad. By the way ..."
     "Yes?"
     "Do you know where we were parked when you threatened to get out 
and yell for help?"
     I thought about it -- and then it hit me.
     "Uh-huh," he said. "Niggerville. Jigaboo Town. You could have 
precipitated a race riot back there."
     I was glad for the night, so he wouldn't see me blushing in 
embarrassment. Then I noticed he'd driven right past the street where I 
lived. "Where?"
     "I want to show you something."
     I started to get my hopes up, but then I remembered what he was 
like and calmed down, fast. And with cause.
     Ty drove us down past the Anderson grain elevators and parked. It 
was dark there. He got out and a moment later I did, too. We were 
looking across the Maumee River and had a really lovely view of the 
water and downtown Toledo.
     "It's awfully pretty," I said.
     "Until you get there," he said. "Until you get down on Washington 
and Jefferson. Go by the Valentine or the Blade or to one of the Purple 
Cows. Then it's just as ugly."
     We were standing close. I pulled his arm around me. It felt good.
     "People can be like that, too. Beautiful and impressive till you 
get up close and then you see them for what they are and see all the 
ugly things in them."
     I moved till I stood in front of him and pulled his other arm 
around me. I covered his hands with mine and held them across my 
breasts.
     "I've been close to you, Ty. I am close to you. I don't see ugly."
     "I -- I've done bad things."
     I kept my mouth shut.
     "I hurt someone. Hurt bad. Someone who shouldn't have been hurt."
     I held his hands tight over my tits. And listened. It had happened 
when he was fourteen and hanging out with other kids his age. All of 
them were black, kids he knew in Niggerville. One of them knew this girl 
who was just asking for it. She was lithe and lean and tight and had a 
great ass and the way she talked and acted, they knew she was just 
asking for it and they knew that if someone gave her some wine, she'd do 
them all.
     So someone gave her some wine. And she did them all. Many times. 
Long past the end of the wine. Long past her willingness.
     "I'd never been with anyone before and even when she was crying and 
asking us to stop, we kept doing it."
     Except him. He'd persuaded the others to stop and let her go.
     "That sounds like good to me, not bad," I said.
     "It was -- but it wasn't the end."
     A few months later, she came by his house when he was home alone. 
She'd been drinking wine. She'd gone into that phase when a girl just 
suddenly blossoms. She wasn't a skinny kid with a great ass, not any 
more. She was a young siren, blooming. And she wanted to thank him.
     "I should've made her go away."
     But he hadn't. They'd spent the entire afternoon, before his 
parents or siblings came home, fucking wildly. He figured he must have 
cum in her four or five times. Whenever he got limp, she did things -- 
     "With her mouth."
     -- to make him ready again...and at fourteen-almost-fifteen he 
could get ready a lot. 
     "That's not hurting someone," I told him.
     "Yes it was. I wanted to do it more with her and when she wanted 
more wine, I let her have it from Momma's closet so I could do it more."
     The problem came a couple of months later. 
     "One of the guys said she was dead."
     I went cold all over when he said that. "Dead?" 
     She'd gotten pregnant and gone to the only abortionist a poor 
thirteen-year-old girl -- black or white -- in Toledo could find in 
those moral, enlightened days. That night, she'd begun hemmorhaging. She 
was DOA at St.Charles.
     "I killed her."
     I turned to him. His arms dropped away as soon as I released his 
hands. "That's not true."
     He was nodding, tear-stained cheeks glimmering in the night. "Me. I 
got her pregnant and -- and -- "
     "And you were the only guy she ever fucked?"
     He blinked.
     "Yeah -- fucked." I said it hard.
     "Well, no, of course not, but -- "
     "You figure you're the only guy who fucked her that month?"
     He tried to turn away. I grabbed him, my arms around his waist.
     "Well?"
     "I -- I -- "
     "You know you weren't. Hell, she was probably fucking another guy 
that day -- the same one who gave her the wine before she got to your 
house."
     "But what I did was wrong -- "
     "She wanted it, didn't she? She went out of her way to ask for it? 
She wanted to keep doing it? And you figure it's your fault?"
     "She was just a kid!"
     "So were you."
     "So are you."
     "I'm young, but I haven't been a kid since ... " I almost told him, 
but couldn't. "Well, I'm no kid."  I pulled his arms around me. "Hold 
me."
     And that's what he did -- just held me, close and strong and scared 
and sobbing and trying to fight it all back, trying to be the tough 
young buck, figuring this so-called white girl -- 
     [Cause it's true. Put my hand down on a piece of paper -- here. 
See? Do I look "white" now? Right. You do it -- see? Kind of off-beige. 
What gets called "black" isn't really black. When was the last time you 
saw someone dark enough to even try to qualify for "black"?
     [Yeah, I thought so. So you think about this: Those aren't colors 
or races or hues, they're just the fucking labels we use so we can 
generalize or categorize and excuse ourself from thinking any farther 
than the label. 
     [Okay? 
     [Your goddam right I'm hot about it! Want to find out why? Listen.]
     -- this so-called white girl wouldn't figure him out, but I did, 
because when you're that close, there's no color, no race, just holding 
and being held, and I have a news flash for all the racial purity folks: 
We're all the same. The reason I know is that holding Ty, I could see 
through him just like anyone else. He was just looking to stop hurting, 
same as me and you and anyone else. Hurting doesn't have a race, unless 
the race is Human.
     Well, one thing led to another and before long I was doing more 
than holding. His was the first uncircumcized cock I'd ever held or 
sucked or fucked, and when he came, he groaned and he cried, and I 
understood that. He was crying cause there was nothing left in him that 
he hadn't shared, so I held him till the sun came up and we never talked 
about that -- but something had been established, a bond, you know? We 
never did anything sexual again.
     I sneaked into the house and -- Miracle of miracles -- no one 
caught me. I took that as a Sign.
     I lay awake for a long time, thinking that this was amazing -- 
knowing even then we weren't going to be lovers again -- that this afro 
senior and me were that close that we'd used fucking and sucking and 
loving to seal our bond, and it felt right. Damn, but if felt good and 
close and tight.
     But no way that was going to be left alone. No way. The weeks 
passed and about ten days before the class elections, I went over to 
room 128, which was the room Ty's backers had drawn from the pool as a 
campaign headquarters. I went over there pretty much every day and it 
was more and more crowded, which was a good sign. 
     When I walked in, the place went quiet. Everyone was looking at me. 
I said Hello to a few people and looked around, but Ty wasn't in sight 
and when I asked Chuck -- who had sort of fallen into managing the 
campaign -- where Ty was, he just shrugged and said he had to go. The 
same thing happened with the next four people I asked.
     Pretty soon, I was alone in that room. It felt like a mortuary.
     I called his house and they told me he wasn't home yet, so I left 
my name and number. When he hadn't called back, I called again at nine-
thirty and they told me he'd gone to bed early because he wasn't feeling 
well.
     I didn't see him around school the next day, a Thursday, but I did 
notice that some of his mimeographed campaign posters were missing. I 
knew he worked after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays and I knew where, 
so I hitched a ride out to the shopping center to discount store where 
he was a stock clerk. When I saw his battered old junker in the parking 
lot, I felt better -- whatever was going on, Ty was not too sick or hurt 
to go to work.
     I found him in the back of the store, unloading boxes of toasters 
from the back of a truck pulled right up to the loading dock. There were 
two other guys working with him. One of them noticed me and said 
something and the other turned and muttered something to Ty. The two 
other guys were staring at my tits -- I was wearing a tank top, but they 
were still too big to hide. Ty saw me, took a deep breath and told the 
other guys he was going to take a short break.
     I followed him off the loading dock and we went back to stand near 
the trees that lined the truck road behind the store.
     "What's going on, Ty? I went to 128 to find you and -- "
     "I'm withdrawing from the election."
     "What? Why?"
     "And we can't be together any more."
     "What the hell -- "
     "That's all there is to it." He started to walk away but I grabbed 
his arm and jerked him back toward me.
     "Like hell it is. You tell me what's going on and you tell me now!"
     "It doesn't matter -- "
     "It does to me!"
     So then he took an envelope from his pocket and from the envelope 
he took the photographs and held them out to me. I recognized the top 
two; they'd been missing from George's basement workshop. I didn't 
recognize the others, because I'd never seen them. But I knew when they 
were taken.  There I was laying on my back, sucking a huge cock with a 
dripping, open pussy right over my face. 
     I was stunned, but managed to say, "I don't get it."
     "If I run in the election, I'll win. If I win, these photos -- and 
some films, I was told -- start making the rounds. You'll be ruined. 
Your family will be ruined."
     "Who -- "
     "I don't know. There was a letter with the pictures. No return 
address, no signature. It just said quote that if a nigger won the 
school election, his white cunt was going to be the famous underaged 
piece of ass in the state of Ohio unquote."
     "They're bluffing."
     He snorted. "I don't think so. And I don't know how they found out 
what we did unless someone -- like you -- told them."
     "I didn't tell a soul! And who told all the people in 128 it was my 
fault?"
     He handed me the envelope. It was addressed to Chuck. 
     I felt my guts go icy and I thought for a minute I was going to be 
sick.  Ty was right. They weren't bluffing. And I knew who they were, 
too. And he was right about us not being together again. 
     "I'm so sorry, Ty. I'm so -- " I couldn't say anything else, so I 
just shook my head and ran away from him, crying.
     I walked all the way home, about six miles, and didn't get there 
till past dark. Mom was pissed off, but by the time I got home, she 
wasn't nearly as pissed off as I was and when I told her that this 
wasn't the time to start with me, she got the message and turned into 
superMom, wanting to know if I wanted to talk about it. I told her I had 
to work it out for myself.
     And that's what I did. I figured it out for myself. Ed Sautter had 
stolen the photos from George's workshop and he had sent the hate mail 
and blackmail threat. It didn't seem likely that he'd done it alone, 
either. That kind of racist is a coward and can never do anything alone. 
They always have to have a half-dozen or so people helping them, usually 
hiding their faces.
     I called Roger the next day and told him what had happened. I asked 
him if Ed couldn't get in trouble with the law for having that stuff in 
his house. He explained about search warrants and said he'd ask a buddy 
on the State Police. When he called me back, he said Sautter could make 
a stink and drag a lot of stuff out in court, if it got to court. But, 
he said, his pal had told him there was someone else who'd be interested 
and if I wanted, Roger would take care of it.
     He wouldn't tell me anything else. He told me I'd have to trust 
him. I finally agreed to let him take care of it. I didn't hear anything 
else for about three days, during which time the Ty-less election came 
and went.
     The Toledo Blade story reported that the coroner had ruled it an 
accident. Sautter had apparently been taking drugs and stumbled into the 
pool, striking his head on the edge as he fell. His roommate found him 
floating, in the morning. He hadn't heard Sautter return from his 
business meeting with three men in a black Lincoln. The roommate thought 
Sautter had sold much of his photography equipment to the men, because 
Sautter and two of the men had pretty well cleaned out his darkroom. The 
police said more than thousand in cash had been found in Sautter's 
pocket, so they gave the story credence. 
     The roommate and Sautter's girlfriend were so shaken by the 
tragedy, said the newspaper, that they were going to leave the area and 
try to start their lives over. Their exact destinations were undecided.
     Years later, of course, I figured out who Roger had called and why 
they'd been so persuasive. After all, Ed was cutting into their territory 
by making porno films. And he was jeopardizing their whole business 
because citizens tend to get outraged at all porno films when something 
involving minors get into distribution, even willing minors.
     At the time, though, the only thing that puzzled me was who had let 
on to what Ty and me had done that long, weeping night. I was mooning 
around the house, all morose and sad because of how good I'd imagined we 
could be together -- a luxury I could indulge because we hadn't been 
together long enough for all the normal hassles and irritations to mar 
the dream -- and I'd sort of fixated on figuring out who had spilled the 
beans. Maybe Ty had told one of his friends and he'd said something? 
That didn't seem like Ty. Or had we been seen? Who?
     I found out by an accidental, chance remark. Jeanne was a year 
behind me and still going to the prison school. Her eighth-grade class 
had been treated to a one-day photography workshop run by guess which 
guest teacher? You got it. He noticed the similarity in names, asked her 
after the class, pumped her for information about me and tried -- and 
failed -- to talk her into posing for him. 
     "When I told him you were always with Ty, he got all red in the 
face, but he said he was okay, so I didn't think anything about it."
     But he had. And it had led to his death, to Ty's not running in a 
school election he would surely have won -- and all the good things that 
might have come of that -- and, not incidentally, to breaking my heart. 
She hadn't had the least idea the damage she was doing. Hell, I would 
have told him as much, myself. But very innocently and openly, she'd 
done something that caused me to hurt like I'd only hurt once before. 
     [I promise. I'll tell you...later.]
     I sort of withdrew from everything after that. I quit the school 
paper and really buckled down to the books. I didn't have a social life, 
except for one weekend I stayed out with Charlene (and actually spent 
most of the time naked, with Roger). My grades soared and I discovered 
the library and then I discovered Jane Austin and Emily Bronte and, 
finally, Colette. I turned into a bookworm. Mom was ecstatic. Jeanne was 
puzzled. Dad was...well, he was Dad. Even Alexis the Pure was impressed. 
I started writing letters to my phantom step-brother, some of which I 
even mailed and he wrote back. Then I joined Pen Pal and started writing 
to kids around the world. 
     It passed the time. The endless Toledo gray winter came and went 
and then it was spring and I took to reading in the park, when I could. 
I found myself spending most of what little social time I had with 
freaks -- so-called, because in those days, you were either a Freak or a 
Straight -- who were the only ones (besides nerds) who read books for 
pleasure. 
     In May of '68 I met Terrence Molonari and his twin, older brothers, 
while I was hitching to Navarre Park for a -- don't laugh -- poetry 
reading. 
     I never got to the poetry reading.
                                                       

CHAPTER TWELVE

     Okay. So...Terry. And that's when I began to grow up, no thanks to 
him or his twin, older brothers. But they were responsible for my 
becoming responsible, in a way.
     I was trying to hitch a ride out to the park, where a bunch of 
Freaks were having a poetry reading. I was wearing one of those, uh, 
granny dresses, with an empire waist high under my tits -- which were a 
good 30 inches, which doesn't sound like much except that the rest of me 
was still kid-small -- and all sorts of billowy fabric around a 19-inch 
waist and 26-inch hips, hiding it all. My hair was still long, then, 
almost to the small of my back, and I was wearing a big ol' straw hat 
and heart-shaped sunglasses. I figured I looked sophisticated and 
mature, with my book -- Tennyson's poetry -- and my get-up.
     So when a beat up old '64 'Stang pulled over with Terrence Molinari 
behind the wheel, I thought I had a lift, and that was that, I mean, 
Terry was the official mascot. Really. He was too small and skinny to 
play anything except intramurals, but he loved sports so much that he'd 
become a cheerleader and usually dressed up as the school mascot, in 
this really ratty-looking bulldog costume. Terry was nearsighted and 
wore glasses that looked like coke-bottle bottoms and always wore a 
Detroit Tigers or Lions hat and had braces and was unbearably polite. 
His voice cracked a lot, too, which was in keeping with his looks, since 
at 16, he somehow seemed more like 13 or 14. 
     I went over and bent down to look through the passenger's side 
window. "Hi, Terry!"
     He was staring for a moment, then said, "Oh, Marie! I almost didn't 
recognize you." Then I realized that he'd been staring down the front of 
the dress when I bent over. "I'm uh, going out to Bargain City. Can I 
drop you somewhere?"
     "Navarre Park?"
     "Sure!" 
     It was a really sunny day and what I was wearing turned transparent 
for a moment when I was standing on the sunny side of the car. It was a 
manual shift and he handled it well. He was more lean than skinny, I 
realized as I watched the way the muscles on his arm corded when he 
rather easily shifted the notoriously cranky Ford transmission.
     "Uh, nice dress," he said. Terry was not known for reticence and it 
was unlike him to seem tongue-tied. I wondered and sneaked a glance.
     Little Terry had a not-so-little hard-on showing through his jeans.
     "Thanks. What do you like best about it?"
     He chewed his lower lip for a moment and then blurted, "What I saw 
inside it oh-jeez-I-can't-believe-I-said-that."
     I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. He started to blush and I 
felt bad for laughing. "Oh, Terry, you can be so sweet sometimes." I 
pushed my hat back, then scooched over and kissed him on the cheek, 
pressing my boobs into his arm. The blush faded, but the hard-on visibly 
throbbed.
     I stayed that way next to him, enjoying the effect I was having on 
him. I also liked the way he smelled -- a little sweaty, but somehow 
fresh and clean and sweet. My nipples were tightening when we stopped 
for a light near the edge of the park and another car pulled alongside. 
The horn beeped. "Hey, Terry -- hi, Marie!" It was a couple of the guys 
from the basketball team. "So, Terry, finally got a girlfriend?" They 
all laughed and his Terry's returned.
     And all at once I realized that Terry had probably been  the
opposite of me: a late bloomer and innocent. And that had certainly 
gotten him a good deal of teasing. Yet he'd stayed loyal to the oafs 
who'd teased him and treated him like a pet. So I decided to strike a 
blow for the little guy, so to speak.
     "I hope so," I said and caressed his face, then ran my hand down 
over his chest and lower, out of sight from them. "Trust  me,"  I
whispered. I put my hand on his thigh, but from their vantage -- 
     Right. They went silent for a moment. I knew the way they saw me: a 
sex-bomb flower child. And the runt had gotten me, when none of them 
ever would. Eat your hearts out, fellas.
     "The light's green," I whispered.
     "So are they," he answered without moving his lips. I grinned and 
kissed his neck, just behind the jawbone. He tasted of Clearasil.
     "Be seein' ya, guys," he said and sedately shifted and pulled away. 
The road through the park was pretty empty. "Thanks," he said quietly.
     I was impressed that he knew what I'd been doing. I hadn't thought 
of Terry as a very perceptive guy. Or sexy. But I was cuddling against 
him and enjoying it and he'd been perceptive, so I was changing some 
attitudes on the fly, so to speak.
     "Uh, where do you want me to drop you?"
     I glanced down at the furiously throbbing bar within his jeans and 
simply could not resist. "I was going over by the pond, for a poetry 
reading, but I could be talked out of it."
     He swallowed, twice, before croaking. "Uh, how?"
     "By an invitation to spend some time alone with you somewhere. It 
wasn't all for show, you know."
     "Oh, sure, you've been fantasizing about me in the shower, huh?"
     "Never." I sniffed his neck. "But -- I don't know, Terry. Right 
now, something about watching you driving, feeling you all lean and hard 
next to me, the way you smell -- I don't know. But I'd like us to be 
alone someplace."
     He took a deep breath. "I want to ... do things with you. Every guy 
in school does." He swallowed again. "My house should be empty."
     "Should be?"
     "Dad's working -- " His father owned a Texaco station. " -- and Mom 
is out in Clay Center, visiting, and my brothers are out on the boat, 
fishing. That's where they said they'd be."
     We reached the other side of the park. He stopped at the light and 
looked me right in the eye. "If you'd still like to ..." He let it trail 
off. "It's no problem to drop you at the poetry reading."
     I slid my hand from his thigh to his bulge and squeezed. His eyes 
closed and he exhaled softly. His cock was bigger than I'd have expected 
on such a little guy, and it was hard as a piece of steel. I leaned up 
and kissed the point of his chin -- no Clearasil there, thank heavens -- 
and said, "Will you show me your room?"
     "If you insist."
     I liked that.
     We drove in silence for a few minutes, taking the service road 
paralleling Route 280, then switched off onto old State Route 2. We were 
out in Curtice, now -- farm country. It was pretty and smelled clean. 
For some reason, I was very sensitive to odors that day. Lucky for me.
     For about three miles, we didn't say a word, but I finally had to 
ask: "You've never made it with a girl, have you?"
     He puffed up and started to try bullshitting me, but then he kind 
of half-grinned and said, "No. Never even got close." He  laughed
sharply, briefly, almost snorting. "Never even copped a feel."
     Terry downshifted and pulled off into a side road through some 
evergreens, then turned into an almost-hidden driveway. Abruptly, we 
were in front of a large garage. An old split-level ranch was connected 
to it by a shingle-roofed walkway. When he turned off the engine, I 
raised his right hand to my lips and kissed the palm for a moment, then 
brought his hand down to rest on my left breast. He sighed as if he'd 
been holding his breath.
     "Now you have," I said, and pressed his hand into my breast.
     "I always imagined they'd be softer, not nearly so firm," he said. 
"It feels -- like coming back to a home I've never been to." He blurted 
it out.
     And that did it for me. I ran my arm around the back of his neck 
and pulled myself up to kiss him on the lips, hard. I wanted him so 
badly that I ached -- literally.
     It was a long time before he calmed the frantic spearing of his 
tongue into my mouth and learned to be less demanding and urgent, and 
then the kiss became sweet, as well as passionate. His hand slid off my 
tit and around my back and he held me close and then, suddenly, kissed 
my ear. I ran my hand down over his chest and then to his crotch. 
     After about a minute of clutching, he said, "Want to go see my 
room?" We both laughed -- but breathily.
     I could only nod. He got out and came around to my side of the car 
and held the door for me. Polite, like I said. I took his hand and he 
led me into the house. I remember absolutely  nothing  about  the
furnishings; all I remember was watching his cute buns through his jeans 
as he led me down a hall to a closed door with a PRIVATE sign on it and 
ushered me inside...after opening the padlock and removing it from the 
hasp. The boy took privacy seriously.
     Terry's room matched his personality perfectly. He was nuts for 
sports and his room showed it. Hockey sticks and gloves over a dresser 
neatly framed the various certificates he'd earned as assistant manager 
and sometimes mascot for the various school teams -- and the stick and 
glove, like baseball mitt and football on a nearby shelf -- showed signs 
of hard use. The wallpaper was interrupted by posters of Al Kaline and 
Henry Aaron and Joe Namath and Gordie Howe and Wilt Chamberlin and the 
like. There were sports magazines neatly stacked on a night table and a 
couple of shelves of paperbacks mounted on the wall between the two 
windows. There was a little study desk with a Tensor lamp and on the 
desk, face down to hold a place, was a paperback. I looked at the title: 
"Dune." He tried to apologize, as if afraid I wouldn't think reading 
fantasy or science fiction was sufficiently macho. When I told him I'd 
read it and really liked --
     [You did? How often?
     [I've read it six or seven times. Something about it is very 
calming to me. Okay?]
     -- and really liked it, something in his face  changed.  The
eagerness was still there, but I think he was starting to see me as a 
person, too, and not just this sex-bomb who was apparently going to let 
him Do It With Her.
     He started jabbering about the book, and what he thought was going 
on. He was pacing and moving around a lot and I knew it was just nerves, 
so I decided to remind him of why I was there. I stepped into his path, 
leaving my sandals behind, threw my hat on the floor and grabbed him 
around the waist.
     "Terrence Molinari, if you don't stop talking and start kissing, 
I'm going to -- to -- hold my breath and turn blue!"
     He stared at me for a moment. I took his hand and put them on my 
shoulders and stretched up on tiptoes to kiss his lips lightly.
     "You like?"
     He nodded.
     "You try it."
     He did -- a brief, lovely kiss. 
     "Longer."
     He nodded and this time, as he kissed me, his hands slid back over 
my shoulders and I grabbed him around the waist again. I could feel that 
iron-hard bar of his young cock throbbing against me. I pressed closer 
and the kiss got deeper. Tongues got into the action and I felt my 
juices running hot and thick. 
     Within a few minutes, we were running our hands all over each other 
and I had his leg trapped between my thighs. I was rubbing my cunny up 
and down on his hard muscles.
     I broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "Can you get my buttons?"
     He blinked his eyes open at me. "Huh?"
     "On the back of my dress. There're six buttons. Can you open them?"
     He fumbled and as he did, I kissed his throat and what I could 
reach of his chest, breathing deeply to savor his scent. Eventually, he 
managed all six buttons, and also took time to kiss my ear and just 
under it and give me a little lick on the side of my neck and the top of 
my shoulder. There was something just slightly clumsy about it that 
convinced me it was impulse and not artifice and that made it all the 
more exciting. 
     "Now put you hands on my shoulders," I whispered and then: "Now 
push the dress down over my arms."
     He did it. The low cut of the loose dress, now even looser did the 
rest, with the help of Gravity. The dress began to settle and I put my 
arms at my sides and it slide right off me and lay in a soft circle 
around my feet. 
     His hands had stopped at my elbows, and now he held my  arms
lightly. He was staring down at my tits. His mouth was open slightly and 
his breathing was short and soft and shallow. His lips had dried. 
     I felt my crinkly-hard nipples tighten even more and I could smell 
my own sex juices. 
     "Put your hands on them," I said quietly. He  complied  with
trembling fingers, just letting his fingertips rest on them. After a few 
seconds, he began moving his palms over them, learning their curves and 
contours. Finally, he pressed them slightly, then cupped them and lifted 
just a bit.
     It was incredibly sensual. I felt a heat in my belly and moisture 
on the insides of my thighs.
     "What did you imagine it would be like?" I coaxed. "What did you 
imagine doing with a girl the last time you jerked off?" Before he could 
answer, I said, "That's what I want you to do -- indulge yourself."
     He shook his head sharply, still caressing my boobs. "I d-don't 
know what would hurt you and what might feel good -- "
     "Don't worry; I'll tell you if something is uncomfortable. Why 
don't you start like this -- "
     I took his hand and led his fingers to my nipple. I pushed his 
fingertips closed around the spiky nozzle and compressed them just a 
bit. He didn't need much coaching after that. He grasped the other 
nipple and began gingerly pinching and pulling and gently turning them. 
Each touch and movement sent a lurching spasm through my belly and 
straight to my cunt. My eyes half-closed and my knees started trembling. 
     When he bent and started sucking one nipple, I came. I'd never 
gotten off just like that before, so it caught me by surprise. He bent, 
fastened his lips, sucked -- too hard, actually -- and ran his tongue 
over the tip of my nipple and bam! just like that, I came! I shook 
slightly and my knees buckled. 
     Terry got scared by that and immediately stopped and caught me in 
his arms. "The bed," I told him, regaining my stance. I stepped out of 
the circle of my discarded dress and stepped back twice. The edge of his 
bed hit the back of my legs and I started to sit, then caught myself. I 
was so wet, my cunt juice would have saturated his bedspread, which had 
a baseball-motif, drawings of Major Leaguers in various action scenes. 
I'd almost decorated a sliding Maury Wills. I told Terry to get a big, 
thick towel. He looked confused for a moment, but I just stared at him 
until he disappeared through a side door. He returned a moment later 
with a big beach towel. I spread it on the bed and sat, facing him.
     "C'mere." I held my arms out to him. There was a little dark stain 
at the end of the lump that was madly throbbing in his crotch. I reached 
up and unbuttoned his shirt, pausing to kiss his chest and then his 
abdomen as more and more flesh was exposed. I pushed the shirt back and 
he got the idea, shrugging out of it as I unfastened his belt and the 
waist of his jeans.
     "Out of those sneakers." He worked them off without using his hands 
or untying them. I leaned forward again, inhaling deeply of his scent 
and feeling the juice just running out of my tight, swollen cunt. I 
unsnapped his waistband and then pulled the zipper down. I squeezed his 
cock through the jeans and briefs and was surprised: It seemed even 
bigger and harder. I worked his jeans down over his knees, to his ankles 
and the movement caused the head of his cock to pop out of the leg 
opening of his Jockeys. It really was fat, his dick, and seemed to swell 
by the moment -- not longer, but thicker.
     I told him to stand at the foot of the bed. As he did it, I turned 
and stretched out, with my hands over my head, pushing at the head 
board, and my legs crossed at the knees.
     "Now take those briefs off for me," I said, surprising myself with 
the rasp in my voice. "And tell me what you want to do with me in your 
bed, Terry."
     He started working the white cotton off his skinny hips. "I want to 
suck your nipples some more and touch you all over and then I want to 
touch your -- between your legs."
     Then the briefs were down and his cock was standing straight out, 
throbbing upward in time with his heart bead and bobbing stiffly as he 
shifted from one foot to the other, stepping out of his underwear. His 
balls looked tight and firm and full.
     "Do it," I demanded. "Just what you said."
     He crawled over me and began madly kissing and licking all over my 
breasts, pausing only to take one nipple or the other between his lips 
and suck crazily, sometimes pulling his head up so he was tugging my 
whole tit by the nipple. His tongue never stopped batting at the nozzle 
and I had a couple of mini-orgasms. I took one of his hands in mine and 
led it down over my belly to my cunt and guided him in his  first
explorations. I taught his fingers to find my clit and once he found it, 
he was fascinated by the effect his combined tit-licking and clit-
fingering had on me, which is to say, making me cum over and over.
     His finger found the opening and slid into my cunt and he gasped, 
"It's so wet and hot!"
     I felt his cockhead throbbing against my thigh. It was leaving 
little precum smears all over. I hatched a plan.
     "C'mere," I told him. I took his hips in my hands and urged him to 
crawl up over me while I wriggled down lower. His throbbing meat caught 
momentarily against the underside of my tit and then sprung free. My 
ankles were at the foot of the bed and he was again on all fours above 
me, but this time with his cock right at mouth level.
     I gripped his thick, hard young cock and pulled him down till the 
glans was in my mouth. It was a mouthful, too! I closed my lips on his 
shaft and put my hands on his hips as I began sucking. I didn't want him 
fucking that thick dick too deeply into my mouth. I needn't  have
worried, though. I'd known he was close to cumming; I just hadn't 
realized how close.
     As soon as my tongue moved against the little ridge  on  the
underside of his glans, he groaned a warning that he was going to cum. 
And almost instantly did -- a long, thick powerful flood that would have 
overflowed a tablespoon and easily filled my mouth. I swallowed and 
sucked a little more and he did it again, moaning. I kept swallowing and 
sucking as he shot five more of those geysers before they lessened in 
quantity and force, and I kept sucking, milking him of the last drops 
stored in those firm, virgin nuts. I moved my mouth up and down a few 
times on his slightly shrinking shaft and he sighed piteously as I 
licked and sucked him dry. His cum tasted thick and strong and somehow 
very clean. I drank him dry and wished for more.
     My hands were still on his hips, so I urged him to roll to the bed 
beside me. He leaned over to kiss me, hesitated, and then went ahead and 
kissed me anyhow, right on my spermy, slippery mouth. I don't think he 
cared for the taste, because he didn't try to tongue me, but he went on 
kissing me till I broke it off. I smiled at him.
     "Oh, Marie, that was like nothing I ever imagined! I mean, I tried 
to imagine what it would be like to be inside a woman when I was jerking 
off and I imagined what it would be like to put it inside you, where I 
had my finger. But I never dreamed anything could feel so good as -- " 
His eyes widened.
     "What's the matter?"
     "Nothing. I just -- " He closed his mouth and looked confused.
     I thought I had it figured out. "I sucked your cock, so that makes 
me a cocksucker, which is a bad thing, right?"
     He looked sheepish. "Sorta."
     "I liked sucking your prick. I wanted it. You liked me doing it and 
when I started, you wanted it. If that's bad, I don't give a damn. No 
one hurt, and two horny people made each other feel good."
     He nodded slowly. "I guess so."
     "Besides, I knew you were going to cum fast the first time and I 
wanted to have you cum in my mouth because I have another new idea for 
down there." I led his hand "down there" for illustration and put his 
finger in me. I brought his hand to my mouth and licked the finger. I 
tasted like what I was: a horny young woman who bathed before leaving 
the house douched regularly, which is to say, I tasted good.
     I smiled at him and the look on his face was first amazement and 
then wonder. I didn't have to do Part Two. He put his hand back between 
my legs, soaked his finger in my cunt and then licked it off himself.
     "What do you think?"
     "Different, a little sharp. Maybe I better try again."
     He did and this time he arched one eyebrow and affected a British 
accent. "An amusing little wine which shows great promise, Moneypenney."
     "Is it Bond -- James Bond?"
     He laughed. "I'm not Sean Connery."
     "And I'm not Ursula Andress."
     He ran his hand over me, cupping it over my breasts and splaying 
his fingers over my belly and then my thighs. "Ursula Andress would eat 
her heart out."
     "I'd rather have her eat me out," I blurted and his eyes widened.
     "You mean -- there?" he whispered. "I didn't know women did stuff 
like that."
     "Not all, but some. Some of us do. And like it a lot!"
     "But -- how?"
     "Want to learn? I was going to ask you anyhow..."
     He brought my hand to his cock, which had -- bless teenagers! -- 
resumed its previous, formidable state. "I don't want to seem like a 
stiff, but -- "
     "Believe me, I have plans for that. But first -- ?"
     "You'd really like that?"
     "Believe me, Terry, what I'm going to teach you is going to make a 
lot of women very happy -- and make you very, very popular with them. 
Trust me?"
     He nodded.
     "Start by licking my tits again -- "
     I got no farther because he had the idea. A quick study, my young 
Terry was. And he not only mouthed my quivering boobs, he couldn't stop 
running his hand over me, enjoying the feel of my smooth, barely teenage 
body under its light, slippery sheen of perspiration. I came a couple of 
more times, little orgasms, before his lips worked their way down over 
my belly and abdomen. He diverted to my thighs, probably stalling before 
the Big Moment, but I didn't mind. His tongue was wonderfully energetic 
and wet and never tired of thrilling my flesh.
     But finally he was kneeling with his legs to one side of me and I 
pulled my knees up and apart as he started kissing his way down into the 
vee offered to him. His breath was like fire on my exposed cunt lips and 
throbbing clit.
     And then he stopped. "You'll have to help me find the right spots."
     "I will, but you're doing fine in the search," I said throatily.
     And indeed he was. His tongue went into the hollows between my 
thighs and my swollen cunt lips. When he shifted from one side to the 
other, his breath and sometimes the tip of his tongue just... barely... 
grazed my labia and that tantalizing touch made me groan and buck. And 
the juices just flooded out of me. I was so close to having a really big 
cum, I thought I was going to shatter with the tension. I was almost 
writhing -- almost, because I was trying not to twitch away from his 
tongue! 
     He slid his hands under my butt and held me tightly, and then 
lifted my ass and pulled my cunt up to his waiting lips. He kissed my 
cunt and then stuck his tongue inside, licking as much as he could. It 
felt great, but it wasn't quite the thing I needed for the big blast. I 
finally took my hands away from my tits, where my fingers had been 
pulling and playing with my nipples, and grabbed the back of his head.
     "Higher!" I growled, guiding him up toward the top of my cunt. 
"Lick there -- ahhh!"
     As soon as his tongue hit my clit, he knew that was the target. He 
even closed his lips around it and sucked on it as he lapped at it. I 
sucked in a long breath, noisily, and then I clamped my thighs on his 
ears and arched and came, screaming. I came in one long, continuous 
orgasm. I had never cum like that -- not when I was being double-fucked 
at the party-cum-orgy on Kelly's Island, not even with my sister or even 
with that bitch Susan, who was the best cunt-lapper I knew. Maybe it was 
anticipation or the unplanned teasing or -- I still don't know. All I 
know is that with Terry, I thought I was going to die from the pleasure 
and intensity of my orgasm. 
     When I finally fell back and pulled his face away from my over-
sensitized clit, I continued to shudder with pleasure. I pulled him up 
to me and grabbed him and kissed him. Again, he hesitated for a split-
second before kissing fully, and he hesitated before opening his lips to 
my tongue -- and then he plunged in and  we  kissed  frantically,
passionately, tasting myself and his cum on my tongue and him tasting 
himself and my juices on his. 
     And more -- I felt what was nearly pain inside me. I wanted his 
hard young cock in my cunt, wanted it desperately. I rolled him on top 
of me, savoring his lean, young weight and the promise of his prick 
pulsing against the insides of my widespread thighs. 
     "I want you inside me!" 
     I reached between us and gripped his rigid stave. It felt so hot! I 
guide him up over me and -- I don't know why; I'd never done this 
instinctively before -- I raised my legs high and wide as I guided him 
to the opening.
     As soon as his knob was in my labia, he pushed down and in, one 
long stroke that hid his cock inside me completely. I groaned loudly and 
he murmured incoherently as he pressed, as if to get in still deeper. 
His cock was a perfect fit: stretching my cunt wide, just  barely
reaching the end of my canal. His pubic hair ground into my barely 
furred pubis and the bony ring at the base of his cock ground against my 
clit.
     I wrapped my arms around his back and clawed at him as he began 
humping me -- because that's what he did: hump me. He just banged away 
in these short, desperate thrusts that were driving me farther and 
farther up the bed, till we were both struggling with the logistics of 
the headboard while frantically staying linked. I knew he wasn't going 
to last long, sucked off or not, but it seemed to go on for a long time 
-- and then he got ready to cum.
     I can still remember feeling his balls lurch against my butt and 
his cock swelling inside me, literally swelling, and then he jammed 
himself so hard into me and against me that it almost hurt and then he 
was cumming in me. I could feel the lurch-lurch-lurch as the stuff shot 
through his cock, and then, eventually, as he kept cumming in me, I felt 
the heat of his juice beginning to suffuse my cunt.
     And he kept cumming, more and longer than I'd dreamed possible. His 
lovely young balls kept manufacturing loads of hot cum to flood me and 
even when it was filling my cunt and draining back out, he kept cumming. 
Just the idea of it was making me cum, so my cunt kept contracting 
around him and making his flow hesitate and that made him half-sob with 
pleasure and cum some more.
     Finally, even he had to stop cumming. His cock stayed half-hard 
inside me and he started to collapse on top of me. I tried to keep us 
connected as I rolled him to the side, but it didn't work and his prick 
slid out of me. Followed immediately by enough sperm to father several 
counties, if not countries. I was just starting to get enough pubic hair 
for it to be visible; now it was matted. His cum and my juices made my 
thighs glisten. 
     I got up on my knees with my legs spread and put my hands between 
my thighs and started scooping and rubbing the runoff over my belly. It 
made me feel so wonderfully depraved and slippery!
     He reached over and his hand joined mine, only his roamed higher, 
slicking my tits, too. My nipples were very, very hard and he tried to 
pinch them, but his fingertips slid off and that felt good, too. About 
five minutes of that and I was ready to cum again and he had  the
equipment to handle the job, too -- his cock was fully hardened again.
     I climbed over him and lowered my cunt onto his dick. I settled 
down easily, right to the hair and sat back till my arms were on his 
thighs, behind me, and then I started moving my hips up and down, 
slowly, savoring the feeling from that angle and the different way it 
rubbed inside me. It was too bad we couldn't keep doing it that way, but 
my arms were getting tired and when I came down, sometimes my butt was 
mashing on his balls. The last thing I wanted to do was mash those 
lovely balls!
     I pulled off him and we both groaned involuntarily. "I've got this 
great idea," I told him. "Stand beside the bed."
     He was young, fit and limber -- but at the moment, his movements 
were jerky and almost uncoordinated. But he did what I wanted as I took 
his pillow and doubled it over and slid it under the beach towel. Then I 
lay with my hips on the pillow and my tits squashed into the bed and my 
feet dangling over the edge of the bed.
     "Now step up and put it in," I said softly.
     "In your -- your butt?" He sounded shocked. 
     I was shocked. "No! Where did you ever get that idea?"
     His rigid prick was at exactly the right height. He nuzzled the 
knob against my cunny and pushed down and in. Somehow, it felt tighter 
inside me and that made it feel all that much better. "My brothers say 
that's the best, tightest thing in the world, that it makes girls scream 
with pleasure -- but you feel so good in the right place!" His hips had 
begun moving even as he spoke and his hard abdomen was pounding faster 
and faster against my upturned butt. His cock seemed to be going even 
farther inside me, now, and I felt a strong cum building.
     Every time he pushed into me, his balls swung forward to brush my 
clit and that felt wonderful and gave me an idea. "Hold still," I said. 
I managed to work my hand under me and back to my cunt and got my 
fingertips over my clit. Then I closed my legs and said, "Fuck hell out 
of me, baby!"
     "Damn, it feels so gooood!" he moaned and then started pounding 
away, long, hard strokes that plunged his fat glans far inside me. I was 
rubbing and twiddling and started cumming like gangbusters. My vaginal 
muscles were spasming almost constantly on him.
     "Feels so damn good!" he wailed, his strokes getting shorter and 
faster. I felt his balls against the backs of my fingers and they were 
hard and full. His cock was swelling inside me and I was cumming and 
cumming and screaming into the bed when he finally jammed himself all 
the way into me and held fast, pouring his hot, copious teenage cum into 
my clutching little cunt. He really let it go this time, amazing me with 
his prolific load. I mean, it was his third time in about an hour, and 
it seemed like there was more than first two times. 
     The load finally stopped -- the hose ran dry, so to speak -- and 
his knees buckled. He was panting on the floor behind me and then he 
kissed my butt -- two sweet little kisses, one to each cheek -- and then 
he pushed his face between my legs and began licking my overflowing 
pussy and my fingers. It felt really good, but the sheer sweetness of 
the impulse just plain melted me. 
     "How much longer are we alone here?"
     I felt him turning his face toward the nightstand, with the clock. 
"About two hours."
     "Get up here and hold me in your arms for a while and let's see 
what happens."
     He rolled me onto my back and turned me on the bed. I was as limp 
as wet dough and let him move me around. Then he fell on the bed beside 
me, catching his breath and pulled me into his arms. I guess the fun had 
taken a toll on both of us, because he jerked awake, startling me out of 
a light doze.
     "Jeez, I thought for a minute there -- what time is it?" He looked. 
"Marie, we gotta get moving! My brothers will be back soon!" Suddenly, 
we were scrambling. I jammed toilet tissue into the crotch of my panties 
to absorb more of the continuing runoff. We dressed faster than I would 
have believed possible and were back out on Route Two, westbound, in 
less than ten minutes.
     "Whooo-eee!" Terry said, looking up in his rearview. "They just 
turned into the drive!"
     Then he laughed. "Well, if they'd caught us they would have stopped 
teasing me about not having done it yet!"
     I made him promise me that he wouldn't tell them he'd made it with 
me. He could tell them we were going out, he could tell them he'd made 
it with someone else. But I did not want a pair of older guys -- who 
advised their kid brother that fucking a girl's ass was the best because 
it made her scream -- knowing I was willing. No way. I didn't explain 
that to him, of course, but I made him promise. And we decided to take 
in a movie at the Woodville Drive-In the following Friday. Wouldn't that 
be nice? Making out in a car after making passionate love in a bed. 
Yecchh. But I liked Terry and I did want to see him and the movie looked 
promising, whatever it was.
     When I got home, Mom and St. Alexis were out and Dad had already 
left for his shift. Jeanne was in our room, just sitting in the corner 
on her bed, looking through the Sears Big Book. She didn't even look up 
when I came in. I knew the signs. I washed my face and hands and went to 
her and pulled her head against my breasts and held her while she cried.
     After she calmed down and relaxed a little, I took a shower and got 
out my secret kit to douche and then we played a couple of games of 
Michigan rummy until she seemed more relaxed. This was not, I decided, 
the right time to tell he of my adventure with Terry. 
     The next couple of days were pretty ordinary. Terry called daily 
and we chatted about books, of all things, and on Thursday he told me we 
had a choice of plans for Friday night. We could go to the movie or, if 
I wanted, we could go to a birthday party for one his friends.
     "You don't want to miss your friend's party," I said. "That would 
be fun!" I was thinking what fun it would be to attend a party in 
someone's basement, surrounded by 16-year-olds swilling beer they 
weren't used to drinking. On the other hand, I knew it  would  be
important to Terry to let his friends see him with a date who didn't 
look like a poodle, and it would be educational to see Terry socializing 
with his peers.
     "Are you sure? I mean, most of the folks there are going to be sort 
of jock-types, straight, and I know most of your friends are more freak-
types, into reading and stuff."
     "Yes, you're right. Most of my friends read books like `Dune' or 
call me up and talk to me about Kurt Vonnegut novels. Not like your 
crowd at all."
     He laughed. "Okay, okay. We'll leave before it gets  totally
strange." He assured me it was strictly casual-slob attire and we agreed 
on a time. 
     I decided to make sure his friends knew that Terry's date was 
decidedly of the female persuasion. When he showed up at the driveway, I 
went out to the car wearing a white dress shirt tailored for an adult 
man and a pair of new jeans that hadn't been washed and shrunk to 
politically correct fit or hue. I was carrying a beach bag. He looked at 
me kind of oddly, but made no faces or negative comments. 
     "By the way, where are we going?"
     "Oh, Bob lives out near Casper's Corners, but we're having the 
party at his friend's house on Woodville Road. The parents are away for 
a few days."
     "Convenient."
     "Yeah. I used to have a thing for the guy's sister -- she's really 
gorgeous -- but I found out she's also a real slut and maybe a little 
crazy."
     "Mmmm." I was half-listening. We were just turning onto Woodville 
Road and I was looking for a good place -- 
     "Hey, can you pull into the shopping center for a minute?"
     "Sure." He signaled and turned into the big parking lot. "Where?"
     "Over by the furniture store."
     "But it's closed."
     "That's the idea." He complied. When he turned off the engine, I 
kicked off my shoes and slithered out of my jeans. Underneath I was 
wearing a micro-skirt. Then I reached inside my shirt and unsnapped the 
ludicrous bra and shrugged and wriggled till I had worked one arm out of 
it. A few seconds later, the bra was history. Then I rolled up the 
sleeves of the shirt to my elbows, tied the tails high around  my
midriff, leaving my belly bare, and unbuttoned the top five buttons on 
the shirt.
     He stared at me for a moment. "The hell with the party. I'll be 
spending the evening fighting guys off."
     "That's the idea. Let them drool and envy you."
     "I don't want envy; I want you!"
     "Really?" I batted my eyelashes at him and caressed the steel bar 
in his jeans. 
     "Marieeeee..."
     "Later -- I promise. But let's go to the party for a little while, 
first, okay?"
     He growled not very convincingly, which got us both laughing and 
trying to come up with ever-more-outrageous predictions of the madness I 
would inspire. I still wasn't paying much attention to where we were 
going. When he pulled into the driveway of my cousins' house I asked why 
we were stopping there.
     "This is where the party is. Tod's folks are away for a few days 
and is something wrong?"
     "You had a crush on Darlene?"
     "Yes -- hey, do you know her?"
     "She's my cousin."
     "No shit?" He was genuinely amazed.
     "No shit." I looked at the house next door. It was dark and the 
driveway was empty. Tod's was not. Four cars were already parked there 
and two more were parked along the berm in front of the house. We got 
out of the car and I asked him if he was friends with Tod.
     "Not really. I try to stay away from him for the most part. He's 
always starting up with people and he's not real bright."
     "Promise me right now, Terrence Molinari -- if I tell you to get me 
out of there, you'll do it."
     "Well, sure, but what -- "
     "Let's just say that I do not want Tod or anyone like him being too 
close to me."
     "Are you sure you're only thirteen? You're awfully smart. y'know."
     When we opened the front door, we understood why no one  had
answered the bell; they couldn't hear it. We were greeted by a wall of 
noise, cigarette smoke (some of it almost certainly tobacco) and beer 
aroma. Yes, it was going to be quite some party. Somehow, the four cars 
accounted for about 16 teenaged partyers. The decor -- Hefner  as
interpreted by Carlo Ponti -- was exactly right for this get-together, 
as it was rapidly deteriorating into a modern version of the Roman orgy.
     Within five minutes of our arrival, the resemblance to ancient Rome 
cranked up a notch: One of the guys who'd been guzzling Black Label on 
the couch suddenly lurched past us, desperately heading for the toilet 
where he could offer prayers to Ralph.
     [C'mon. You know -- you kneel in front of the commode and fervently 
groan, "Raaaaallllph!"]
     The birthday boy was in Darlene's bedroom, we learned. Getting his 
birthday present.
     "Wish it was your birthday?" I whispered to Terry, elbowing him in 
the side.
     Before he could answer, someone bellowed, "Whoaaaa -- Marie is 
here! Looking good! Man, I'd know that cute ass anywhere!"
     And I'd know that asinine braying anywhere: Tod.
     Terry and I turned slowly. Tod, true to porcine form, was standing 
there with one arm around a girl trying her best to look like the bimbo 
she was born to be. His hand was hanging down over her absurdly filled 
halter. His other hand was wrapped around a quart bottle of Ballantine 
ale. The bottle was two-thirds empty; Tod was two-thirds full.
     "Hey, Terry, been getting some from little ol' Marie?"
     Terry started to lean forward, but I turned and slung a restraining 
arm around his waist, crushing myself into his side. I looked back at 
Tod. "What do you think?" I asked, and ran my hand down Terry's leg 
about halfway to his knee, then squeezed the inside of his trouser leg 
as if enjoying something there. "Best of all," I purred, "he's got a 
brain and a sense of honor. Have you heard of those?"
     All the conviviality faded from Tom's piggish face and he looked 
like he was considering something other than a friendly reply. But then 
the birthday boy made an appearance -- conspicuously tucking his shirt 
in, once he was sure he'd been noticed by enough people -- and that took 
the edge off the moment. I led Terry away, toward the kitchen, while the 
bimbette whispered something to Tod -- probably that there was a bedroom 
available; she looked like the type who'd crave someone like Tod.
     A couple of the other guys came up to say Hi to Terry and someone 
put a beer in his hand. He drank it absently. The music changed to 
something more dance-able -- it might have been the Rascals or Joplin -- 
and Terry and I danced. I took a break and had a beer and then danced 
with someone else while Terry talked sports, then he danced with me 
again. We both had another beer and we danced with each other and 
various people. Tod still hadn't reappeared.
     And suddenly, it was almost eleven and Terry was weaving just ever 
so slightly and I was feeling only a bit of pain myself. Someone shushed 
the rest of us and beckoned and we followed him down the hallway...
     ...to Darlene's bedroom, it turned out, where she was riding her 
brother.
     I'd been told no tall tales. Tod was hung like the proverbial 
horse. And Darlene -- quite obviously stoned on beer and sex and who 
knew what else -- was digging every abundant square inch  of  her
brother's oversized dick.
     The bed was a mess and the insides of her thighs, when visible, 
were well-painted with a copious overflow of many loads of semen. Even 
so, she was gloriously sexy. All that long blonde hair, curly and 
jostling with her eager riding, hung down her slim back to her tiny 
waist and slim hips and taut little ass. Her legs were as long and curvy 
as they could be and when she sat up straight, I could see her tits had 
grown to be really lovely half-melons, barely jiggling in their stiff-
nippled glory despite her violent humping.
     I say "when visible" because her thighs weren't visible for long. 
Maybe a dozen of us watched this wild, drunken incest for a full three 
minutes before one of the guys groaned, shucked his shorts and climbed 
over them -- and immediately began working his dick up her ass.
     Darlene screamed when he put it in and screwed again when he sank 
down on her and screamed with each thrust. But her screams subsided into 
whimpering sobs and moans and then she got into it and kept groaning, 
"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!"
     Both males complied.
     I expected the guy in her ass to cum first, but Tod couldn't hang 
on. He lurched upward and groaned. He had small balls, I noticed, and 
didn't cum for very long. Darlene bucked all the harder against the guy 
in her ass and expelled Tod's dick. Even limp, it was impressive. I 
wondered at how she could have withstood it when she was only 10 or 11. 
If it had been attached to anyone else, I might have been turned on by 
the sight of it. As it was, I was repulsed.
     The guy in her ass rolled onto his back, his cock still secured 
inside her anus. He locked his hands over her marvelous tits and pulled 
her back against him. She splayed her legs wide and demanded that 
someone else fuck her. One of the guys finally complied, pushing his 
cock up her slimy slit.
     "Want to go?" I asked Terry quietly. "Or do you want a turn at 
her?"
     His eyes said he was drunk, but his voice was sure: "Uh-uh. She's a 
slut. Doesn't care. I want someone who cares." He hugged my waist to 
him. "Let's get out of this place."
     But walking the corridor from the scene of the scene, I knew Terry 
had drunk too much beer to drive. And he began to suspect it when he 
caromed off a door jamb.
     "Can you drive?" he asked me.
     "You've got to be kidding."
     He puffed out his breath. "Shit. We can do one of three things. 
Hang around here till I sober up. Hang around here and get totally 
wrecked. Or call one of my brothers to come get us."
     "What about the car?"
     It took him a moment to figure out what I was talking about. He 
shrugged. "We'll lock it up. I've seen head-ons on Woodville Road; I'd 
rather chance someone stealing the car."
     I squeezed him to me. "Call 'em."
     He nodded over-enthusiastically and almost did a one-and-a-half 
gainer into the red shag rug. "Good ideeee-a." Totally wrecked. But we 
found the phone and I dialed for him -- his coordination was shot -- and 
after thirty seconds of slurred conversation, he hung up and grinned. 
"The calvary is on the way."
     [What? "Cavalry? So what? You knew what I meant! Besides, John 
Wayne always said it that way, and who are you to argue with the Duke -- 
pilgrim?]
     A couple of the guys left, accompanied by Tod's bimbette. She'd 
been completely grossed out seeing him fuck his sister while another guy 
fucked his sister's ass. She was also about three sheets to the wind. I 
had the distinct feeling that the three guys with her were going to 
enjoy the way she got even with Tod.
     We went out and sat against the hood of the 'Stang for a little 
while. Terry didn't say much beyond an occasional apology and expression 
of surprise at having gotten so thoroughly drunk so easily. The night 
was clear and there weren't more than zillion or so stars and I found 
myself thinking of the way my phantom step-brother could point out stars 
and constellations as if they were old friends or streets that he knew 
well and, for the first time, I was asking myself what Dan would think 
of the guy I'd chosen to be with. In this case, I figured he'd like him 
and that meant a lot to me, for no good reason whatever.
     His brothers rolled up in a VW Microbus -- a van, for those who 
don't remember -- and Terry introduced me to Gary and Gerry. Not only 
were they twins, they were identical and about 19 or 20 years old. There 
was some resemblance to Terry, but it was mostly in the face, and even 
there it wasn't a lot. They were dark-complected, and they were big, 
strong guys.
     We got the back door open and Terry sprawled inside. I think he was 
unconscious before he hit the completely surprising blue shag rug. Yes, 
friends, Gary and Gerry had turned the back of the VW Microbus into a 
bachelor pad. Oh, joy.
     Gary was driving and Gerry turned in the passenger-side seat to 
give me a good eyeing. "Marie -- yeah, I heard about you. Jeez, I 
thought they were making up stories."
     "Who are `they'?" I asked, looking him over. The resemblance was 
strong and I thought that if Terry grew up to look like his brothers, 
I'd be one happy girl. They were cute! "And what were the stories?"
     Both laughed quietly -- chuckled, I guess -- and Gerry said, "Ahhh, 
you know how it is. Guys talk about girls and when you see a really 
pretty or sexy girl, you tell someone and word gets around. Usually it's 
pretty far off the mark, y'know? Exaggeration and all."
     "Except they weren't exaggerating by much about you," Gary added.
     "So how were they wrong?"
     Gerry shrugged. "They had your figure wrong, a little. They said 
you were bigger through the, uh, top, y'know?"
     "Well, for your size, they are pretty big," Gary said. "What do you 
measure, anyhow?"
     "Don't you think that's getting a little personal?"
     "Hey, it's all in the family," Gerry said, grinning and winking.
     "Meaning?"
     "Listen, we're just curious about what our little brother's been 
getting himself into," he said, adding, "Oooof! What the hell was that 
for?"
     The "that" was his brother's elbow in his ribs. And Gerry realized 
its meaning immediately. "Oh, shit!"
     So Terry had told them what and with who. Great. At least no one 
had suggested I get butt-fucked so I could scream. But there was no 
pretending I wasn't hurt by Terry's betrayal and disappointed in his 
revelation. And I was mad as hell at him for it. Plus, I was terribly 
horny and had been looking forward to being with Terry later -- except 
that "later" found Terry passed out. Add to all of that the fact that 
I'd had a couple of beers and they were making me feel a bit wild...
     "Can we pull over here for a minute?" I pointed left. We were 
approaching the Great Eastern shopping center. The miniature golf course 
was brightly lit and there was a big tractor-trailer rig unloading in 
front of the Kroger's, but otherwise, it was dark.
     "Yeah, no problem," Gary said. He signaled and turned. He moved 
toward the miniature golf.
     "No -- over by the 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.

-- End of 12 --