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 Chapter 2 Why I Like The Feel Of Grass Against My Cheek

   I'm not sure how long he was gone before I calmed down enough to get up,
put the stool away, grab my back pack and the paddle and head for the
house. I do remember how warm and numb and wonderful I felt though.  It was
better than any drug I could ever imagine, and I wanted more.  At least I
wanted more until I saw the clock in the kitchen, and realized that I only
had 15 minutes to get myself cleaned up and doing my homework at the
kitchen table before my mom and little sister got home.

   It almost seems amazing to me now, that in all the years that Mr. 
Sanders used me as his slut, we never once got caught by my mom.  God knows
he sure pushed it to the limit enough times.  Then again, she may have
known, and decided that I was safer with someone she knew than with a guy
she didn't.  One thing I do know for sure, she wasn't about to let me get
pregnant as young as she did.  As soon as I had my first period she took me
to our doctor and had her put me on the pill.

   The next day at school was torture.  I couldn't get Mr.  Sanders out of
my head or the heat from what he had done to me out of my pussy.  Every
recess and most of my lunch period found me in the girls' room.  I think I
must have cum 5 times that day before the last bell rang and I was able to
pull my sopping panties off and stuff them into my pack for the walk home.
Actually, it was more of a run.  I was so worked up by then that it was all
I could do not to stop along the way and frig myself off.

   Mr.  Sanders found me just as he had ordered.  But as soon as he walked
up to me I started to cum and that damn paddle squirted out onto the floor.
He just laughed at me as I gushed, and informed me that since I had dropped
the paddle I could add 12 more to my total.  That day he let me have 24 of
them, even though I was cumming and begging him to fuck me almost from the
beginning.  When he was through he again informed that I would have to earn
my first fucking, and that no matter what, I would have to wait until I
turned 13.

   He then asked me if I wanted to suck his cock again.  When all I could
manage through my heat was to look up at him and nod my head, he gave me 5
more whacks, and informed me that if I wanted to suck his cock, I would
have to ask for it properly and address him as "Sir".  And that, quite
simply, is how he managed to keep me in spanking debt to him for the next 4
years, when he moved to Arizona.  By making me beg for sex, I was being a
slut, and therefore deserved another spanking on the following day, 12 for
being a slut, and 12 more for actually doing what I had just begged for. 
The only thing that ever changed was the total, every year on my birthday
from then on it went up by one.  It really wasn't fair in a way.  I
couldn't help it.  Every time he would spank me for my previous behavior
the heat would go straight to my wet little cooter and before he was even
half way done I would already begging him to use me.  And of course he
always did, which again made me a double slut for letting him. 
Dysfunctional?  I suppose.  But god I love men who treat me that way.

   So I did it.  As fast as I could, I got down on my knees on the garage
floor and begged him to please let me suck his cock again.  And of course
he said yes, like that's a surprise.  Only instead of cumming in my mouth,
he let go of my head and hosed me with it, all over my face, hair and
blouse.  God, what a gusher I had that day!  It still makes me cum
instantly when guys hose me.  There is something so nasty about letting
them do that to me that my pussy just goes crazy, and that first time was
no different.  I was on my back on the garage floor, my fingers jammed into
my hole with Mr.  Sanders standing there, grinning down at me and laughing,
which only made me cum harder.

   When I finally calmed down he informed me that girls who get off on
being hosed are much bigger sluts than girls that just swallow.  I could
therefore expect to receive an extra 12 the next day.  God he was a master
at that.  No matter what I did, there was always some reason why I deserved
an extra 12, or 13 or 14 or whatever.  I don't remember a time when I
didn't have at least 50 cumming to me.  I probably still owe him 32.  The
last thing he did the morning he left for Arizona was to push me over his
garbage can where he filled my 16 year old butt with his cum, shoved my
first butt plug into me, and made me swear that I would keep it in me for
the rest of the weekend.

   After that second time he began to push my limits.  He told me that the
next day he would expect to find me "ready" for him at the bottom of his
outside basement stairwell.  "Ready" now meant that I was to be kneeling on
the indoor/outdoor carpeting with my hands behind my back and my blouse and
bra neatly folded in a pile 3 steps up, so that they wouldn't get wet when
he hosed me.  Looking back on it now, I suppose I should be embarrassed or
something that the thought of saying no never crossed my mind.  Instead, I
started to gush, and ended up with my fingers coated in goo as he walked
out the side door.  I guess I was an exhibitionist even then.  The thought
of being ordered to expose myself like that drove me crazy, even if it was
only at the bottom of a stairwell.  If anyone did come back there before he
got home, I would have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and absolutely no
defense.  Only a slut would kneel at the bottom of a basement stairwell
with her hands behind her back and her breasts exposed, waiting for her
neighbor to come home from work and cum on her.

   For the rest of that week and into the next Mr.  Sanders would come home
from work each day to find me there, on my knees, with my hands behind my
back, and my nips so hard you could hang weights from them.  But what he
enjoyed the most I think was the growing wet spot that he always found on
the carpeting between my knees.  I just couldn't seem to help it.  The
exposure, the fear of getting caught by someone else, and the anticipation
of another spanking followed by a hosing were all too much for my hot
little cookie to handle.  I would try to hold out as long as I could, but
sooner or later my pussy would just start gushing on its own, and my
fingers would find their way down there.  And then I would desperately try
to get off as fast as I could before he drove up.

   Each day he would get out of his truck and come down those stairs
grinning at me.  He would say something like,

   "Hi, Candy, I see that you've made a mess of my carpet again.  Better
add another 12."

   Then he would unlock the basement door and lead me into his rec room,
where I would obediently drape my tummy over the arm of his easy chair,
pull my skirt up, spread my legs, turn my toes in, and beg him to please
spank me for being such a dirty little slut the day before.  To this day I
am not sure if I came harder from the spankings or from sucking his fat
cock until he was coating my face, hair, chest, and tongue with his hot
goo. One thing I do know for sure is that I loved it.  It was all I could
think about.  At school or at home his cock was constantly on my mind.  I
think I came as many times on the weekends, just from thinking about it, as
I did from doing it during the week.  And god, how he would torture me in
front of my mom and George on the weekends.

   Mr.  Sanders and George were always going somewhere; car shows, boat
shows, gun shows, or working in their yards and borrowing each other's
tools.  Every chance he got he would ask me all these innocent sounding
questions, like was I `excited' about going into the 8th grade, or was I
looking forward to be-'cumming' a teenager (in other words to my 13th
birthday when I would finally get what I had been begging him for).

   Or he would 'accidentally' forget something that he had meant to bring
over, and then send me over to his house to get it for him.  No matter what
it was, I would always find it lying on the arm or cushion of his easy
chair, where he had, of course, purposely left it.  And where I would have
to drop my panties and frig myself off.  Because as soon as I would get to
the bottom of those stairs my pussy would start to gush, and by the time I
would get to his chair I would be shaking so much that I could hardly
stand.

   About 2 weeks before school got out he upped the ante again.  From then
on being 'ready' for him meant that my plaid skirt was in the pile on the
steps with my blouse and bra, and instead of lying 3 steps from the bottom,
they were all to be 3 steps from the top.  Somehow, that made it worse for
me.  There had always been the chance up until then, that if I did hear
someone other than him pulling into the drive way, I might be able to get
dressed in time, but not after he made me put them all the way up there. 
And knowing what a gushing mess he was making out of my pussy only seemed
to spur him on.

   Instead of coming straight home after work he began showing up later and
later, driving me crazy with the fear that my mom would come home before
him and find me kneeling at the bottom of his stairwell, naked, with my
hands behind my back and a huge wet spot on the carpet between my knees. 
And instead of every day he would make me wait, so that after 2 or 3 days I
would be almost crazy for his him.  I never knew when it would be.  All day
long I would be gushing from the anticipation, only to find a note on his
basement door that would either have BRS (be ready slut) or GHS (go home
slut) written on it.

   I suppose it was all pretty funny to him.  No matter what he did to me I
was always there, gushing juice down my thighs and begging him for more. 
When school got out he pushed me a little harder yet.  He started putting
times on his notes, like 11 pm, or 1 am, so that I had to sneak out of the
house in the middle of the night by climbing down the tree outside my
bedroom window.  The first time he did that to me I wore a pair of cut-offs
and a t-shirt but he put a stop to that.  From then on if I wanted his cock
so bad that I would sneak out of the house for it, I had to be naked from
the start.

   He was so nasty to me.  He had to have known what it did to me when he
made me do stuff like that.  Sneaking down that tree and through our back
yards with nothing on drove me crazy just from the naughtiness of it all.
And that didn't even compare to the way I would gush on the way back to my
room, because he would never let me wipe his cum off of my face until I was
home.  He always said that it would serve me right if my mom caught me like
that, climbing through my bedroom window, naked, with cum all over me.

   I know he knew what the thought of someone seeing me like that did to
me. He had seen ample proof of that the first week after school was out
when he made me stay on the floor after he hosed me and took out his
camera. Talk about crashing through a 'plateau'!  Every time that camera
clicked and that flash went off I thought my pussy was going to explode. 
And when he told me he was going to show them to all his buddies at work,
it did.  He got pictures of that too.  To this day I still cream when the
guys post my pics in a chat room or when Pete plays one of my videos in
front of his buddies.  I guess it's one thing to know that I am a slut but
something else to actually see myself acting like one.

   Other times, next to the time would be a location.  So the note might
read '1 am behind your garage' or 'midnight in the third base dugout'.  And
of course I would always be there, waiting for him, with nothing on but a
pair of Skechers and slut sauce rolling down my legs.  And that's the way
he would leave me, except that his sauce would be dripping off of my face.
God it made me cum hard when he would use me like that and then just get in
his truck and drive off or go back into his house.  And of course I always
had to make up the spankings later since he couldn't very well make that
kind of noise in the middle of Bonner Park at that time of night.

   About 2 weeks before my birthday he bought a video camera.  I didn't
know it of course.  After making me wait for him in the dugout for over an
hour he drove up and informed me that he had changed his mind and he would
expect to find me 'ready' in his stairwell in 5 minutes or I wouldn't get
to suck him for a week.  I don't think I've ever moved as fast as I did
that night.  By the time I ran the 5 blocks there I was out of breath and
gushing like crazy, but that was nothing compared to the way my knees
buckled when I saw that camera, mounted on a tripod and aimed directly at
the arm of his chair.

   He really let me have it too.  I came on the handle of the paddle when
he pushed it into me.  And I came when he made me hold it there while I
told the camera what a little slut I was.  And I came for the camera when
he spanked me.  And I came for the camera when he fucked me with his
fingers, and when he let me suck him, and when he hosed me.  God, how I
came that night!  Just the sound of that damn camera whirring away as I
gushed all over myself was enough to start me cumming all over again.  And
when he told me that the reason he bought it was for my birthday, so that
he could show all his buddies at work what a little slut I was when he
fucked me senseless for the first time, I lost it.  And he recorded that
too of course.

   When he finally let me go that night he informed me that he was leaving
on his vacation the next day and then handed me a box.  It was wrapped in
the Sunday comics.  He told me that if I really wanted him to fuck me on my
birthday when he got back in two weeks, I would know what to do with it. 
Then he spanked me really hard and pushed me out the stairwell door.

   I don't remember how long I stood out there with that package.  All I
could think about at first was how disappointed I was that I wasn't going
to see him for two weeks.  Eventually though my curiosity took over and I
just had to open the present.  Since I couldn't very well climb back up to
my room with one hand, I snuck back behind his garage and dumped the comic
strip wrapping paper and the box in the garbage can.  I wonder if he saw
them the next day and knew.  I still have it.  It isn't a very big one, 8
inches long and maybe 2 inches around.  But at the time it looked huge to
me, and nasty.  Just touching it had my pussy creaming again.

   So now you know.  Most girls lose their virginity to some romantic first
lover on a soft bed, or maybe not so romantically in the back seat of his
car.  I lost mine in the grass behind Mr.  Sanders' garage, on my hands and
knees staring at his garbage can, to a dildo.

   It hurt a little at first.  Even though I had had Mr.  Sanders fat
fingers in me a lot by then it was quite a bit bigger.  But I was so worked
up from the previous session with him and the video camera, and from the
nastiness of fucking myself with it out there behind his garage that it
didn't take very long before I had the end of it coated in my juices.  It
wasn't enough of course.  I wanted all of it in me, and having it stop
every time it pushed up against my hymen drove me crazy.  But I was afraid
that it was going to really hurt when it broke.  I guess that's when I got
the bright idea that if I was cumming when I shoved it all the way in it
might not hurt as much.

   God, what a sight I must have been that night.  On my knees with my
cheek in the grass and my butt in the air, my left hand beneath me,
frigging my clit and my right hand next to it, pushing that dildo into my
gushing hole.  It worked though.  It still hurt at first, but I waited
until I was right on the edge and then just rammed that plastic lover into
me and collapsed.  God, what a gusher that was!  All I could do was hang on
for dear life as my pussy convulsed and gushed for what seemed like an
hour. No, I didn't go home after that.  I couldn't.  As soon as my orgasm
would let me I was back up on my knees and one hand, giving myself the
fucking I had been craving for so long.  I know I should be embarrassed to
admit it, but I just couldn't help myself.  It felt so good and so nasty
fucking myself out there that I just couldn't stop.  I know I came at least
twice, if not three times, before I finally gave in to the inevitable and
went inside.

   I suppose I could have held it in one hand and still made it up the
tree, but somehow holding it my mouth, and sucking my juices off of it,
made more sense at the time.  What a scene that would have been: if my mom
or George had heard me, and came up to my room in time to see me crawling
through the window with that plastic cock in my mouth.  I know I was a
sight because the first thing I did after I closed the curtains was to turn
the light on so I could look at myself in the mirror on the back of my
bedroom door.  Although the jizz on my face and breasts had dried to a
sticky paste there was plenty of it in my hair and my butt was still pink
from my spanking.

   I guess I should have known at that point that there has to be a time
when enough is enough, but somehow I've never reached that point.  I was
still too worked up and had to see what it looked like.  So the last thing
I did before I finally crawled into bed was to get back down on my hands
and knees and do it again in front of my mirror.  It didn't take long. 
Does it ever?  Looking back over my shoulder at that nasty thing plunging
in and out of my cookie had me gushing again in no time, and when I was
through, I just couldn't bear to take it out.  It felt so big and warm and
wonderful that I just crawled into bed with it still in me and fell asleep.

   I think I fell asleep with it in me every night for the next two weeks.
I know it wasn't ever out of me for very long.  About the only time it
wasn't in me was when I was at the pool with Ashley and Courtney.  If I
wasn't on my hands and knees at the bottom of Mr.  Sanders stairwell,
fucking myself to oblivion with it, it was still in me, snugged up by a
pair of tight cut-offs.

   Somehow I made it through those two weeks, but I remember that at the
time I thought it would never end.  When it came down to it, the dildo
wasn't nearly enough.  What I wanted was a real cock fucking me, and cum in
my pussy.  It was probably good that my birthday fell on a Tuesday that
year, because Mr.  Sanders didn't get home until late Sunday night.  I was
a mess all day, hoping he would come home early enough for me to get to
suck him, but as it turned out, I was asleep when he finally drove up, and
he left for work before I was awake.

   I remember pretending to be asleep when my mom left for work, but I
wasn't.  As soon as she was gone I threw on a t-shirt and a pair of
cut-offs and ran barefoot over to Mr.  Sander's house and down the stairs.
It wasn't until I was at the bottom of the steps, and was staring at his
note, that I wished I had brought the dildo.  There wasn't time to go back
for it, the note said 'BRS' and my pussy was gushing.  It wasn't even 7 am
yet, and there I was, on my knees, in nothing but a t-shirt, with my
cut-offs wrapped around one ankle, and three fingers in my cooter.

   The rest of the day was pure torture.  Just thinking about sucking him
off when he got home had me wound up all day.  I can't remember how many
times I fucked myself, but I know it was a lot.  When he finally did get
home he found me waiting for him, 'ready'.  My cut-offs and t-shirt were on
the third step and I was on my knees at the bottom of the stairwell.  The
only thing different was that I had my dildo trapped firmly between my
calves and buried in me.  I still remember the grin on his face when he got
to the top of the stairs and saw that.  He made me hold it in as he marched
me into the rec room and pushed me over the arm of his chair.

   He spanked me hard that day, and I had to keep it in me the whole time.
I remember that he gave me 12 plus `one to grow on' since it was almost my
birthday and I was gushing on that plastic cock from the first stroke to
the last.  When I finally calmed down, he put on the video that he had
taken of me, and fucked me to another orgasm with it while I watched myself
cum on his TV.  God, I just came and came and came.  It felt so much better
to have him ramming it into me, and I looked so nasty on the video, with
his cum all over my face and my fingers in my cookie, that I just exploded
through that wonderful 'plateau'.

   He was just getting started.  He made me tell him everything I had done
since he had left, and the whole time he just kept slowly fucking me with
that dildo.  By the time I had told him how I had fucked myself behind his
garage that very first night, and in his stairwell every day since, and how
I had been walking around with it in me every chance I got, I was up over
150.  He recorded the next 12 and made me admit to the camera how much I
loved fucking my slutty little cunt with my dildo after every 3 strokes. 
Then he finally let me suck him off in front of the camera and hosed me.

   God it felt wonderful.  My butt was still stinging and my pussy was
aching and that hot jizz splashing all over me just felt so good.  I was in
heaven again, rolling on the floor with my fingers in my hole, his cum all
over my face, and gushing for him in front of his camera while he looked
down and laughed at me.

   When I finally calmed down I thought he was going to finish my
spankings, but instead he brought me crashing back to reality by looking at
his watch and telling me that it was almost 6 o'clock.  He was so mean to
me.  He wouldn't let me clean up or take the dildo out.  He said that since
I liked running around town with it in me I could wear it home along with
his jizz.  God, I remember being so scared that my mother would drive up
and see me with his goo all over my face, and the wet spots on my t-shirt
where it had smeared when I yanked it back on over my head.  I made it in
time, but barely.  Somehow I was able to wash my face, brush my hair and
put a clean t-shirt and bra on before she came in through the back door and
called up to me.  But I had to spend the rest of the evening trying not to
cum in front of her with that dildo jammed into me by my cut-offs.

   I remember that the morning of my birthday it was raining really hard,
but I didn't care.  As soon as my mom left, I threw on my t-shirt and
cut-offs and ran over to Mr.  Sanders with my dildo in me.  I still
remember how elated I felt when I got down to the door and saw that BRS on
the note.  Up until then I had almost convinced myself that somehow he
would find a way to back out on our deal and make me wait even longer.  I
was so bad that day.  I have no idea how many times I came over the next
few hours but I know it was a lot.  I was just so excited about finally
getting fucked that it was all I could think about.  And the more I thought
about it, the naughtier I got.

   Just bringing myself off in the stairwell that morning wasn't nearly
enough to satisfy me.  Even though I was soaked and my breasts were clearly
visible beneath that thin white t-shirt, the idea of going to the mini mart
like that, with my dildo in me, was just too much to resist.  I still
remember the look on that clerk's face when I walked up to the register
with my rock hard nips poking out at him.  He kept staring at them while he
was counting out my change and the look he gave me when he finished was so
nasty I thought I was going to cream right then.  As I pushed the change
into my pocket with my left hand, that knowing sneer in his eyes just
turned my insides to jelly.  The thought of saying 'no' when he leaned over
and told me to come back behind the counter, get down on my knees and start
sucking his cock was the furthest thing from my mind.

   I think he was already counting change for the second customer before I
realized that the store security camera was focused right on us.  Knowing
that someone might be watching that video later sent my pussy into spasms
around my dildo, and that of course made me suck harder than ever.  I don't
remember how many times he had to reach down and push my head away because
another customer was approaching and he was too close to coming to risk
letting me continue.  When he finally did let loose he let me drain him
completely before he pulled his cock out of my mouth and tucked it back
inside of his jeans.  I was cumming like crazy of course.  Just the thought
of sucking cock has always been enough to get me going.  Getting a whole
mouthful of his sweet cum under the counter like that had my pussy gushing
like crazy.

   He could have cared less.  Another customer had come into the store, and
without even looking down at me, he just sort of nudged me out of the way
with his knee.  In his defense, I guess there really wasn't much else he
could do with that guy standing on the other side of the counter.  So I
crawled down next to the opening and waited for him to leave.  I still
remember how slutty I felt down there on my hands and knees like that, and
how my pussy just would not stop contracting and gushing around that dildo.
Even though my cut-offs were soaked from the rain, I could feel my cream
leaking through the leg holes and down my thighs because I didn't have any
panties on underneath.  I was into one of those brain/pussy feedback loops
that I seem to have spent half my life in.  The more I creamed around that
dildo, the sluttier I felt, and the sluttier I felt, the more I creamed.

   I don't remember for sure but I think it was when I was down there on my
hands and knees, with the taste of his cum still in my mouth, that I
started thinking about how I was going to celebrate my birthday.  Or it
could have been after I left the owners office.  As soon as that customer
left, I stood up to leave, only to run straight into the belly of Mr. 
Sabonjian.  He had seen the whole thing on the monitor in his office and
told me that unless I wanted him to show the video to my mother I would
follow him into his office right then and there.  I did of course.  And I
still remember how flushed my face felt when the clerk called to his boss
from behind the counter and told him to,

   "Have fun, she's quite the little cocksucker."

   Mr.  Sabonjian led me through the swinging door between the coolers and
into his 'office'.  It wasn't much of an office really, just this tiny room
with a desk, a filing cabinet, a computer and a couple of monitors so he
could watch the store.  He didn't even shut the door.  As soon as we got in
there he just turned around, leaned back against the edge of his desk,
unzipped his pants and pulled out one of the fattest cocks I have ever
seen. It wasn't very long, maybe six inches at most, but it looked huge to
me, and I remember thinking that I would never be able to stretch my mouth
wide enough to fit it in.  Not that he cared.  As soon as I was on my knees
he just grabbed me by my pig tails and started to ram it against my lips.
Somehow I managed to keep my mouth open wide enough, but if he had been any
longer and had been able to get that thing into my throat, I know I would
have choked on it.

   It hurt at first, but then the nastiness of him face fucking me like
that reached my clit and I started to gush all over the dildo.  Before he
was even half way through with me I was cumming so hard that it was all I
could do to just hang on to his pant legs.  When he finally let loose he
pushed my head back off of his cock and let me have it.  Up until then the
only men I had seen cum were Mr.  Sanders and the clerk, but Mr.  Sabonjian
hit me with twice as much as the two of them put together.  I kept trying
to get close enough to his cock to get a least some of it into my mouth. 
But he was having none of that.  He just kept the palm of his hand on the
top of my head and let it spurt.  He was so strong and the feeling of him
controlling me like that, forcing me to stay put while he hosed me drove my
pussy crazy.  When he finally started to slow down he ordered me to stick
my tongue out and lick him clean, and then, just like the clerk, he nudged
me over with his knee and zipped himself up.

   God I felt like such a little slut.  I could feel his cum dripping off
of my face onto my t-shirt and my lips felt like they were 2 inches thick.
I had both hands in my crotch pushing against my dildo as I knelt there,
cumming in front of him, with my head down.  I remember wondering what he
would do to me if he knew about the dildo but he didn't give me any time to
think about it.  I was just getting the courage up to tell him, in the hope
that he would fuck me, when he grabbed me by my left pig tail and yanked me
to my feet.  He didn't say another word to me until he had pulled me out of
his office and pushed me through the back door into the alley.  I think
that the leer on his face, when he informed me that the only way I was
allowed to come into his store again was through that back door, will be
burned into my brain forever.  Then he slammed the door shut and left me
out there in the rain.

   I suppose another girl would have felt angry or even hurt, but I didn't.
The sound of that door slamming shut and the way that he had just used me
had my pussy churning.  It was all I could do just to collapse in the
gravel with my back against the wall and bring myself off again.  And I
guess that is when I decided that what I really wanted to do for my
birthday was to suck as many more cocks as I could until Mr.  Sanders got
home and fucked me senseless.  The thought of doing it had me so worked up
that I think I must have cum at least 2 more times before I felt sated.

   It wasn't until I had calmed down and stood up that I noticed the 2 dogs
peering at me through the chain link fence from the yard across the alley
and realized what a sight I probably was.  What I didn't notice was their
owner watching me from his kitchen window.  Knowing that I couldn't walk
back home with Mr.  Sabonjian's jizz all over my face, I pulled up the
bottom of my t-shirt and used it and the rain to wash his cum off as best
as I could, exposing my breasts and rock hard nips to the cold rain in the
process.  I had already pulled my shirt back down and was trying to spread
the gooey stuff around with my hands so that the rain could wash it off
better, when I realized that I had more than just the dogs watching me.

   I guess it was the motion out of the corner of my eye, rather than the
sound of his gravelly voice, that startled me so much.  I just stood there,
frozen in place, with my mouth open and my nips trying to poke holes
through my shirt, as he walked across the alley and pushed me up against
the wall.  He was old, maybe 60 or so, with balding gray hair and a really
weathered looking face.  Grabbing both of my nipples and squeezing them
until they ached he leered down at me and said,

   "Just what the hell do you think your doing out here, girl?"

   Even though it hurt, my pussy started to cream all over again as I tried
to lie to him,

   "Nothing, sir."

   "Like hell you were doing nothing.  I saw you masturbating out here
through my window.  And what's that all over your shirt and hair?  It's cum
isn't it?  You're a little cocksucking slut, aren't you?"

   God, his fingers hurt so good and my pussy was going crazy, the last
thing I wanted to do was to lie to him again.  What I wanted was to suck
his cock.  But all I could manage to do was to look up at him and half
whisper,

   "Yes, sir."

   The grin on his face when I said that was almost evil.  All he said was,


   "Good!"

   He grabbed my wrist and half pulled half dragged me across the alley,
through the gate in his fence, and into his garage.  His dogs followed us
and sat there next to his car with their tails wagging as he pulled out his
cock.  Even though they were just dogs, the thought of them watching me as
I dropped to my knees in front of him and pulled him into my mouth had my
pussy churning.  Ever since then, being watched like that drives me crazy.
It was like they were better than me, judging me, and I remember wondering
if he was going to make me suck them off too, or let them fuck me.  Let
them turn me into a dogslut as well as the little human cocksucking slut
that I already was.  When he finally came he held my head still with both
hands and just let it all shoot into my throat and down into my belly, as
my body shook and my pussy convulsed around my dildo.  He pushed me away
when he was through, just like the clerk and Mr.  Sabonjian, and told me to
make sure that the gate was shut when I left.  Then he walked out the side
door and into his house, followed by his dogs.

   God, I felt so dirty.  And I loved that feeling.  I still love that
feeling.  I don't know how long I lay on his garage floor like that.  I
just couldn't seem to come down.  The thought of how they had all used me
and then just pushed me away kept rolling through my brain.  My whole body
felt like it was on fire and I loved that feeling too.  I was definitely
back on my 'plateau'.

   I don't remember leaving his garage or whether or not I remembered to
shut his gate.  I was in so much of a daze that I must have walked for 9 or
10 blocks before I realized that it had stopped raining and that the sun
was starting to come out.  The sun only made the heat in my pussy worse
though.  As my shirt dried the stains from Mr.  Sabonjian's hosing became
more and more obvious.  Just the thought of how nasty I looked started my
cookie going again, and the lingering taste of the old man's cum in my
mouth was making me almost desperate for more.  I knew that I couldn't just
walk up to any strange man on the street and ask if I could suck his cock,
but I wanted to.

   I guess it was the courthouse clock chiming 10 am that brought me out of
it long enough to realize that if wanted to get my shirt washed and dried
before my mom found it, I had better turn around and head for home.  Plus I
hadn't had a shower yet, since I had left the house in such a hurry, and I
wanted be as perfect as possible for Mr.  Sanders and my first fucking. 
The only problem was that the taste of the old man's cum in my mouth and
the thought of Mr.  Sanders fucking me kept my pussy juicing on that dildo
so bad that I just had to get at least one more load in me before I got
home.

   As it turned out I got a lot more than that.  About 10 blocks from our
house they were building a new sub-division.  Even though it was way out of
my way I just couldn't seem to stop myself from cutting through there to
see if I could find one more guy.  I know it sounds bad but even back then
I was addicted.  I had been letting Mr.  Sanders use me for over 3 months
by then and all I can say is that I loved it.  I still do.  When he would
spank me and cum all over my face in front of his camera or make me suck
him off at the baseball field the humiliation drove me crazy.

   And that's just how I felt that morning.  After being used by 3 complete
strangers like that and then pushed away and treated like a little slut I
was crazy for more.  I remembering telling myself that it was my birthday
and I could have anything I wanted and what I wanted was to be used.  It
was like I was in a zone or something.  As I wandered down the street past
all the new houses all I could think about was getting a one more cock I my
mouth.

   When I finally found the house they were working on I was almost
breathless just from the anticipation.  I was so bad.  I just walked right
in there.  There were 2 guys working in the kitchen and when they saw me
standing in the living room looking like I had just been gangbanged it was
like they both knew instinctively what I was there for.  I didn't even say
anything.  All I could do as they walked up to me was to drop to my knees
and look up at them with puppy dog eyes and my mouth open.  I was already
starting to cum before the first one pulled his cock out.  I really don't
remember much after that.  What I didn't know was that there was another
guy working upstairs.  When they finally pushed me out the front door and
told me to `cum' back any time I wanted more, I had at 2 more loads in my
belly and another one on my face, hair, and t-shirt.  God, I still remember
their laughter as I ran down the street scared to death that someone my mom
or George knew would see me and tell them.

   By the time I got home it was 2 o'clock, which barely left me enough
time to shower and get ready for Mr.  Sanders.  But I didn't care.  As soon
as I saw how nasty I looked in my mirror, my cooter went nuts again.  It
was all I could to do to pull my cut-offs off and fuck myself as hard as I
could with my dildo while I stared at my slime coated face, hair and shirt.
In the end all I had time for was the shower.  I hid my t-shirt under my
mattress and then dressed in the same school outfit that I had been wearing
the day that he caught me in the loft of our garage.  The only thing
different was that I wore panties, to hold my dildo in.  It didn't matter
though, they were all off again and folded neatly on the third step of his
basement stairwell by 3:45.  Even though my hair was still wet from the
shower I didn't think that he would mind once he drove up and saw me
kneeling down there.  Waiting for him.  Ready.

   He didn't show up until almost 5 o'clock and by the time he did I was a
sweaty, cum soaked mess.  I was so crazy with lust waiting for him that I
must have fucked myself to 2 more cums by the time he finally appeared at
the top of the stairs.  He didn't come down the stairs.  He just looked
down, grinned at me and picked up my clothes.  Then he told me that if I
wanted them back, and still wanted to get fucked, I would be back down in
his stairwell and 'ready' at 11 o'clock that night.  Then he got back in
his truck and drove away.