                          The Guarantee
                         An Erotic Story



     Chapter 1                The set-up.              Page-1

     Chapter 2                Date      #1.            Page-4

     Chapter 3                Interlude #1.            Page-21

     Chapter 4                Date      #2.            Page-28

     Chapter 5                Interlude #2.            Page-44

     Chapter 6                Date      #3.            Page-49

     Chapter 7                Interlude #3.            Page-59

     Chapter 8                Date      #4.            Page-66

     Chapter 9                Date      #5.            Page-70

     Chapter 10               The guarantee.           Page-77

     Chapter 11               Epilogue.                Page-81





                            Chapter 1
                           The set-up.

     My big sister looked at me in disgust.  "Boys!" she said, 
"Sometimes I wonder!  Why aren't you going out tonight, instead 
of sitting here on your dead-ass watching TV?  I sure don't spend 
Friday nights moping around the house, when there are so many 
members of the opposite sex out there just waiting for me.  Why 
don't you get a date?"
     I looked up at my big sister from the couch.  Yeah, sure.  
SHE had no problem getting dates.  My big sister may not be the 
prettiest girl in the 10th grade, but she definitely was the 
sexiest . . . at least to me, she was.  For sure she never had 
any trouble getting dates.  At 17, Lonnie was not only beautiful; 
but in bra and panties, as she prepared for her own date, she was 
a teenager's wet-dream; with beautiful mounded breasts, long 
brown hair that hung halfway to her waist, and nicely curved hips 
that just made your peter ache to feel what was between them.  
Not to mention a smooth flat belly that made you just ache to 
kiss her navel.  Lonnie had a whole string of boyfriends coming 
around, and hadn't missed going out on a Friday or Saturday night 
in as long as I could remember.  I don't know if she "put out" or 
not, (That was HER business.) but she never seem to have any 
unhappy boyfriends; not even those she was no longer seeing.  I 
wondered how she did it.  Right now, she was currently seeing 
THREE different boys, seemingly on rotation, and I had never 
heard an argument from any of them.  At the moment, she was 
getting ready to go out with Frank Georges.  He wasn't an 
extremely handsome guy, like SOME of Lonnie's dates, but he 
wasn't all that bad-looking either.  What he DID have was 
personality, like most of those that my big sister dated.  Heck, 
even I liked him.  Which, (believe it or not) made me even 
grumpier.  It just wasn't fair, that my big sister with her looks 
and sexiness could get almost any guy she wanted, while I 
couldn't get laid if I paid for it . . . not that I would.
     Three times that night, I had called different girls, and 
all three had dates.  I had also tried during school, with no 
better luck.  It seems that "nerds" like me, weren't high on the 
list of desirable dates.
     "Yeah," I said bitterly, "and who would that be with . . . 
Betty-Lou Harris? . . . I'd rather be alone."  Not that Betty-Lou 
was all THAT bad looking, in spite of the joke going around about 
"I wouldn't take her to a dogfight, even if she had a chance to 
win."  She just wasn't very good looking.  Slightly big front 
teeth, and coke-bottle glasses made a bad first impression.  Her 
body wasn't all that bad, if you liked them a little bit plump.  
Still, she wasn't the type of girl you even thought about asking 
for a date.  Maybe I had been missing a bet.  Too late now 
though, after what I just said to my big sister.
     "You might be surprised," said Lonnie, enigmatically.  
"What's the matter, Little Brother, can't get a date?"
     I didn't even bother to answer.
     "Did you even try?" she pressed.
     "Three times, and three no's," I answered bitterly.



                                1


     "The trouble with you boys, is you don't know who or how to 
ask," said Lonnie.
     "Easy for YOU to say, with a body like that," I responded.  
"You can get any guy you like to go out with you, and you don't 
even have to give him a good time, either."
     My big sister seemed simultaneously pleased by the fact that 
I thought she was beautiful, and annoyed at the fact that I 
seemed to think she might be a poor date.  "Nobody ever complains 
about having a lousy time when they go out with me," she 
asserted.
     True.  Lonnie was keeping three guys happy, and I couldn't 
even get a date.  I barely managed to choke out an apology, 
before starting to cry.  I didn't WANT to; it's just that things 
seemed so unfair!
     This time, it was Lonnie, who apologized.  "I'm sorry, 
Mark," she said; sitting beside me, and cuddling me close so that 
my head was resting on her soft breast, and the smell of her body 
was making me think thoughts that a boy just shouldn't think 
about his big sister.  "Why don't you let me help?" she asked.
     "Huh?" I said.  "How?"  I knew Lonnie was getting ready to 
go out in about a half-hour, and didn't have much time to babysit 
her little brother.  Besides, what I needed was a date, not my 
big sister; no matter HOW sexy she was.  I wanted to hold and 
cuddle a girl, and even try to "make out".  You don't do things 
like that with your own sister, no matter HOW sexy she is.  Oh 
God!  What was I doing even THINKING such things?  Lonnie would 
probably slap my head half-off, if she even knew I had such an 
idea.  Thankfully, my big sister isn't a mind-reader.  (Well, 
considering what happened next, maybe she is.)
     "You don't have ANY girlfriends, right?" asked Lonnie.
     I nodded numbly.  It wasn't from lack of trying, either.
     Lonnie seemed to make up her mind about something.  "How 
about if I set you up, to get you some experience?" she asked.
     "Huh?"
     "As I said, most boys don't know who to ask, or how," she 
explained.  "So I'll get you started.  For the next five weeks, 
I'll set you up with a different date each Friday, starting 
tonight.  If you do a decent job, and are nice to each of the 
five girls, I'll guarantee you have a good time."
     "Yeah, sure," I said sarcastically, "what'll you do if I 
don't?  Kiss my prick?"
     "Anything you want," said my sister; running her hands 
suggestively down her hips, and licking her lips in an almost 
obscene manner.  "But you have to go out with whoever I pick, and 
do YOUR best to give her a good time.  Whaddya say?"
     What COULD I say?  Still . . . "Even Betty-Lou Harris?" I 
asked.
     "WHOEVER I pick," emphasized Lonnie.  "Well?  As I said, 
I'll GUARANTEE that you have a good time."
     "And who decides whether I had a good time?" I asked 
suspiciously.






                                2


     "You do," she said, surprising me.  "If, after I pay-up, I 
decide that you really DID have a good time, then I can call the 
whole deal off, and I don't think you would want that.  On the 
other hand, If I don't do a good job of making it up to you, then 
YOU can call the deal off.  In any case, I don't think I have 
anything to worry about, because I know you WILL have a good 
time, if you just try.  Whaddya say?" she repeated.
     Well, it sure looked better than watching "Gilligan's 
Island" re-runs.  "You're on," I said, "and thanks Sis."
     "Thank me AFTER your date," she said.
     "No, I mean thanks for caring."
     "Oh . . . you're welcome."  Here Lonnie gave me such a sexy 
smile, that I almost found myself hoping that I DID have a lousy 
time on my upcoming date . . . almost.  While a good time with my 
big sister (I DID believe she would keep her promise.) would be 
fun, what I really needed was a girlfriend . . . or preferably 
girlfriends, like Lonnie had boyfriends.  If she was right, in a 
little over a month, I would either have one, or at least have a 
start on knowing how to get one.  In any case, I couldn't lose, 
what with my big sister's "guarantee."





































                                3


                            Chapter 2
                            Date #1.

     While I was running this through my mind, Lonnie had been on 
the phone.  She came back, dressing hurriedly while she did, so 
she wouldn't be late for HER date.  "It's all set," she said.
     I was dying to know who she had set me up with.
     "Suzy," Lonnie replied to my inquiry.
     "Suzy WHO?!?" I almost exploded.
     "Suzy Morgan," she replied.  "Who else?"
     Suzy?  The little girl next door?  The one I played with in 
the pool, and used to go skating with?  "But she's just a kid!" I 
almost exploded.  "She's only 12 years old!"  The 
three-and-a-half year difference in our ages seemed almost 
insurmountable.  After all, I was 16, for Christsake!  I wanted a 
GIRL to date . . . to snuggle up to . . . to make-out with, if 
possible.  Not some snotty-nosed kid, who needed a babysitter.
     "She's almost 13," responded Lonnie; checking her watch.  "I 
know you want someone to make out with, but you've got to start 
somewhere.  Give her a chance . . . she might surprise you.  
Remember, I'll guarantee you have a good time tonight."  Once 
again she ran her hands over her hips suggestively.
     I thought about it.  Five hours or more, effectively 
babysitting the little girl next door, for maybe a ten-minute 
blow-job by my big sister . . . was it worth it?  On the other 
hand, Lonnie hadn't mentioned any limit on the time . . . .
     "You said, 'anything I wanted,'" I reminded her.  "But for 
how long?"
     "The rest of the night, if you wish.  I SAID I'd guarantee 
you have a good time, and you will . . . one way or the other.  
OK?"
     What could I say?  "OK," I responded, "I'll do it."  Six 
hours, from midnight to 6 in the morning with my sexy sister, 
seemed like a good deal to pay for only five hours of 
babysitting.  Besides, Suzy is a nice kid.  Perhaps I might have 
fun after all.  If not, then I WOULD have fun afterwards.  How 
many deals do you get, where you can't lose?
     Well, it SOUNDS nice to go over and take the little girl 
next door out on a date.  However, this was MY first date as 
well, and I hadn't even talked to her mother before.  Thus it was 
with some trepidation (Listen to me use them big words . . . my 
heart was in my mouth.) that I rang the doorbell.  God!  What if 
Suzy's mother thought I was taking her little girl out to try and 
seduce her?  (Not so far-fetched, when you realize that's what I 
would be doing with any normal date.)  Thus, the reaction I got 
was doubly surprising.
     Tammy Morgan (Suzy's mother) pulled me aside, barely inside 
the door, and began whispering to me, so her daughter couldn't 
hear, before announcing my arrival.  I EXPECTED her to give me a 
big lecture about getting Suzy home on time, and not molesting 
her, or something like that.  Instead, she thanked me!
     "I wanted to thank you, for being so nice and volunteering 
to take Suzy out on her first date," she practically gushed.  "It 
means so much to her, and she likes you a lot.  I hope you don't 
mind."


                                4


     Huh?  Who was setting up whom here?  I nodded carefully.
     "Good," she continued.  "I'm leaving for work in about an 
hour, so I won't be home when you two get back."
     By this time, Suzy had joined us; as her little sister 
announced the fact that, "Mark's here!" in a loud clear voice 
that was so pretty it almost sang.
     "Now since I won't be home, I want you both back here by 
Ten," she explained.
     Oh shit.  I had planned on making this a proper date; even 
though Suzy WAS underaged.  I owed it to my sister.  "Uh, Mrs. 
Morgan?" I said.
     "Yes?"
     "We were PLANNING on going to the drive-in," I said 
carefully.  (Yeah, the standard make-out place, just like Suzy 
was a real date that might put out.)  I had borrowed our father's 
car, so I could rub my big sister's nose in all the things I 
MIGHT have been doing, with a real girl instead of a kid.  Maybe 
next time (after paying up) she'd find somebody my own age.  "The 
movie starts after 8:30," I explained, "and doesn't let OUT until 
after 10:00.  Besides, I wanted to take Suzy out for a snack 
afterwards, if she wanted to."  (Just like a REAL date.  I would 
do my part . . . then my sister would have to do hers.)
     Tammy's eyes lit up, when she heard this.  I had expected 
her to object to her little girl being taken to a drive-in (of 
all places) by a horny 16-year-old boy.  "Well," she said, "since 
it's her first real date with a boy, I guess I COULD stretch 
things a little.  Only be back by 11 o'clock at the latest.  When 
you come in, I want you both to be careful not to wake Ginny up; 
she'll be asleep by then.  I won't be here to check on you, but I 
expect YOU to be in bed by at LEAST one-o'clock.  You need your 
sleep, even if tomorrow IS a Saturday.  OK?"  Tammy aimed this 
last question at her daughter.
     I couldn't believe it . . . not one word about trusting me 
to be on time, or taking care of her girl.  The implication that 
she DID trust me was staggering.  I resolved that only war 
breaking out in the streets would keep me from getting Suzy home 
by the specified hour.  "OK," I said; while Suzy repeated, "OK, 
Momma."
     That was it.  The next thing I knew, Suzy and I were 
standing outside her door, and I was officially on my first date 
with a girl.  (Yes, GIRL.  I was NOT going to downgrade Suzy to 
the status of "kid" like I had called her when talking to my big 
sister.  Besides, in the cute little dress and matching blouse 
that you could almost see her bra in, Suzy looked almost sexy.  
Almost.  Not like my big sister did, but yes somewhat sexy in an 
innocent way.  And yes, it really WAS my first date too, much as 
I hate to admit it.)  Perhaps this night wouldn't be too bad 
after-all.
     The movie was some silly horror-show called "The revenge of 
the giant-tomatoes" or something like that.  <Giggle.>  Scary, 
but almost funny in the way they quite often tried to be scary, 
but didn't quite bring it off . . . I mean . . . tomatoes?  The 
perfect movie to take a girl to; but not so scary that a little 
kid like Suzy would be really frightened.  I almost forgot that 
kids see some pretty nasty movies every day on TV.


                                5


     I got the car settled into place, the speaker settled on the 
window; and picked up some popcorn from the food-stand.  We were 
all set, and waited for the movie to start.
     As we did, Suzy set the popcorn aside, and slid over to my 
side of the car.  "Thanks Mark," she said.
     "Huh?" I said.
     "Thanks for taking me out.  I know your big sister talked 
you into this, but I really appreciate it anyway.  I never told 
you before, but I've had a crush on you for years.  Thanks for 
making my first date just perfect."  Suzy leaned over; kissed me 
on the cheek; and then retired, blushing, to her side of the car.
     Shit!  I felt like a heel.  "C'mere Suzy," I said; and 
taking her head I turned it to face me.  I then kissed her . . . 
properly, like a boy SHOULD kiss his date, on the lips.  Damn, 
that tasted good, for just a little girl!  "Thank YOU," I said, 
"for going out with me.  You're the best date I ever had." (No 
lie, but SHE didn't have to know she was the ONLY date I ever 
had, did she?)
     "Oh Mark," she said, and snuggled into me.  I felt a LOT 
better.  For ten minutes we snuggled like that, until the movie 
started.  You know?  It began more and more to look like my big 
sister wouldn't have to "pay up" after all.  And surprisingly, I 
wasn't even disappointed.
     The movie started, and for the next ten minutes we watched 
commercials for upcoming movies, and a short little cartoon, 
before the main movie started.  By that time, the big bucket of 
popcorn had mysteriously sagged down to about a half inch of 
remaining kernels, and the "super-sized" Coke had almost vanished 
as well.  Who cares?  The main feature was about to begin.
     Yeah, right.  Some feature.  The cartoon and trailers beat 
the movie all hollow.  Even the scary parts weren't.  I was 
getting bored, and I turned to Suzy to ask her if she wanted to 
see the rest of the movie, or wanted to go, like I did.
     I promptly forgot all about the movie.  While I had been 
watching the lead-ins, my arm had unconsciously wrapped itself 
around the little girl's snuggling body, and my hand was somehow 
cupping her sweet little titty.  Up to now, (except for noticing 
that she was wearing a bra, back at the house) I had never 
noticed that the little girl even HAD breasts, let alone the 
sweet little swelling mounds that filled my hand so nicely.
     Suzy was staring straight ahead towards the screen, but I 
could tell her mind was more on my roaming fingers, than on any 
stupid fake-horror flick.  But she didn't say a word; just 
snuggling even closer to me, if possible.  I decided to see if I 
was right.  Suzy could always stop me, if she didn't want me to 
fondle her.  She could move over, object, or just tell me to 
stop.  She didn't do any of these things.
     I started rubbing the soft little mound under my hand, and 
Suzy just let out an, "Ooohh," of pleasure, and kept on watching 
the screen.  Going further, I moved my hand over to her other 
breast, and started massaging that one.  This time, Suzy DID say 
something.





                                6


     "Oooh.  Thanks Mark, that feels good," she said, and smiled 
at me, before returning her attention to the movie.  Maybe it 
wasn't so boring to a little girl like her.  For sure I was no 
longer bored.
     I decided to find out just how far the little girl would let 
me go.  Casually, I let my hand sag down towards her waist, and 
when she didn't object to my big hand resting on her bare 
midriff, I slid it up UNDER her shirt, and massaged her belly for 
a moment.  Suzy didn't say anything; just turning slightly to 
make it easier for my hand to fit up under her blouse. (Blouse, 
shirt, whatever.  I'll call it a shirt.)  Less than two minutes 
later, I felt the lacy straps of her bra.  I didn't even bother 
feeling her titties through the bra; I slid my hand right up 
underneath it, until I had a swollen titty in my (comparatively) 
rough hand.  Such a soft sweet little mound.  Even my big 
sister's tits weren't this soft.  I almost felt like cumming in 
my pants.
     Suzy didn't say a word; even when I pulled my hand out from 
one sweet little tit, and moved it over to where I was massaging 
the other one.  I guess she thought this was normal behavior for 
a guy on a date with a girl.  (Well, I guess at the drive-in 
there, it actually WAS.  Just not with little girls this young.)
     After a few minutes of this, I slid my hand back down the 
little girl's smooth belly; ran it around her bellybutton, and 
then back up under her bra.  Suzy just sighed.  I had never 
expected to even get THIS far with ANY girl, especially not on my 
first date.  I guess my big sister wouldn't have to "pay up" 
after all.  Not that I was disappointed.  This is what I had been 
really wanting anyway:  Being out on a real date, with a sexy 
girl; cuddling and "making out."  Only I had just expected to 
feel the girl's body through her clothes, and maybe get a kiss or 
two if I was lucky.  Getting my hands up under her clothing, had 
just been a wet-dream, on my part.  I knew most girls didn't let 
their dates "pet" them, under their clothing, until at LEAST the 
third date . . . .
     Or at least, that's what I had thought.  This date with Suzy 
had turned to far better than I could have expected, if I HAD 
succeeded in getting one of my classmates to go out with me.
     Now that I thought of it, I was incredibly lucky to have a 
girl like Suzy in the car with me.  She was cute, she was sexy, 
she didn't seem to mind my advances, and most important, she 
seemed to really LIKE me.  I guess she hadn't been kidding, when 
she admitted earlier that she had had a crush on me.  I nuzzled 
my face in the little girl's hair, and almost fainted from 
sensual overload, as her sweet scent filled my nostrils.
     "Mmmmmm," said Suzy squirming around so that my arm wasn't 
so awkwardly wrapped around her, and my whole forearm was resting 
skin-to-skin against her smooth little belly, while my fingers 
massaged her sweet little breasts underneath her lacy brassiere.  
"I like that."
     I nuzzled her hair to one side, and kissed her on the cheek, 
by way of saying, "Thank you."  The stimulation was too much.  I 
felt like my head would explode, if I didn't do something more, 
yet I was already doing more than I should.



                                7


     The third time I slipped my hand out from under Suzy's bra, 
to feel her sexy little tummy and waist, I tentatively slid it a 
little farther down, underneath the elastic that was the top of 
her skirt.  Suzy didn't object.
     Now greatly daring, I slid my fingers even farther down to 
where a second band of elastic crossed the little girl's smooth 
little tummy.
     Suzy just sagged down a little farther in the seat, to make 
it easier for me.  If that wasn't a signal to, "Go ahead," I 
don't know what is.
     It took me three tries, but I managed to slip my fingers 
underneath the elastic that held the silky little panties up.  I 
was doing it!  I actually had my hand inside a girl's panties, 
and I was about to "feel her up."
     Oh God!  I had NEVER expected to get THIS far.  Especially 
on my first date . . . and most especially, not with a little 
girl like Suzy.  An older girl, who knew and liked sex, (like 
some of the "sluts" that the boys all talked about, but nobody 
ever seemed to meet) possibly, but not an innocent little virgin 
like Suzy.  I don't know HOW I was so sure Suzy was a virgin, but 
I didn't doubt it for an instant.  Even though she was allowing 
me to fondle her "private parts," each move she made showed it 
was all new to her, and each time I did something new, it took 
her a second or two to get used to it.  No, Suzy may have liked 
what I was doing, but she had obviously never had anybody do it 
to her before.  Somehow that made it all the more exciting; 
knowing that each thing I did, was as new to her, as it was to 
me.
     I was falling in love with this little girl.
     My fingers, by this time, had roamed past the little bump 
and furrow of the entrance to Suzy's vagina, and was probing in 
the slippery heat of the tight little crack between her 
legs. . . .
     Only I couldn't get my finger inside.  The angle was wrong, 
and my arm was getting cramps just from trying.
     Regretfully, I pulled my hand from between the child's legs, 
and contented myself with feeling her smooth little tummy; half 
in and half out of her skirt and panties.  I was just happy to 
feel her body, even if we couldn't go any further.
     "Uh, Mark?" she asked, "Do you mind if I . . ."  Here Suzy 
started squirming around in the seat, turning herself sideways in 
the car.  ". . . rest my head in your lap?" she completed.
     Oooh!  Her first movements had forced my hand out of her 
skirt, and I was momentarily disappointed, until I realized that 
her shift in position allowed me full access to the whole length 
of her body, instead of just her middle.











                                8


     Looking straight down, I could see her cute little face 
directly under mine, and my left arm cuddled her head; enjoying 
the silky feel of her hair, while my left hand was able to reach 
both of her pert little bosoms, if I reached down through her 
open-topped little shirt.  My right hand, in the meantime, was 
gripping the smooth swell of her left leg, as I shifted her body 
closer to me, so she didn't slide off.  My right hand was just 
inches from being underneath the little girl's skirt, and I could 
almost feel the heat of her sweet little cunny against the back 
of my hand.  Did I object?
     I would have had to have been crazy.  "I don't mind," I 
said; making the understatement of the year.  I couldn't resist 
the temptation, so I kissed her.
     She kissed me back!  I know, you're saying, "So what?  Of 
COURSE she kissed you back, dummy!  She likes you."  Only you 
don't realize that except for that one rather chaste kiss I had 
given her earlier, I had never really kissed a girl before . . . 
I mean, never REALLY kissed a girl.  Never again, would I make 
fun of the "smooch" scenes that seemed to clutter up otherwise 
good movies.  Now that I knew what it was about, I could finally 
appreciate them.
     Suzy and I didn't do like some people, and stick our tongues 
in each others' mouths.  We hadn't learned about such things yet.  
We just kissed.  And kissed.  And then kissed some more.  The 
soft sweet feel of her lips against mine filled my whole world.  
Unconsciously my left hand had slid into the top of her shirt, 
and was alternately massaging each of the little girl's breasts.  
It was a LOT easier to feel them through the top of her 
brassiere, than forcing my hand up underneath the elastic on the 
bottom.  In the meantime, my right hand had crept up her leg, 
past her short little skirt (accidentally lifting it to expose 
her silky red panties) and had begun unconsciously been running 
over the smooth swell of her tummy; teasing her bellybutton, 
until it caused Suzy to pull away with a slight giggle.  "That 
tickles," she said.
     I don't know how long we had been kissing . . . it could 
have been 10 seconds, or 20 minutes.  In any case, I had to catch 
my breath, before I could reply.
     "I wish I could kiss it," I said, wistfully; remembering my 
fantasy about my big sister's navel.  Still, just even being 
allowed to FEEL it with my fingers was a treat.
     "I don't mind," she whispered.  I don't know why she 
whispered, with all the booming and banging, and screams coming 
from the screen, I could have been raping her, and nobody would 
have noticed.  Which, as it turns out, was a good thing.  Pulling 
her short little shirt up, to reveal the second-sexiest belly I 
had ever seen; I leaned over, and stuck my tongue in the little 
girl's navel.  God, was that sexy!  Only I didn't have over half 
a second to appreciate this.
     Two knees slammed into the side of my head, knocking my 
glasses off, and Suzy let out a screech like she was being 
murdered!





                                9


     "Ooh!  Oh!  That tickles!" she whooped; then more quietly, 
"I'm sorry Mark, I couldn't help myself."  The little girl had 
doubled-up; kneeing me in the side of the face, and sending my 
glasses flying.  I wasn't worried about my glasses; I was worried 
about somebody coming over to see what the screaming was about, 
and finding me with my big paws fumbling around under the little 
girl's clothes.  Hurriedly, I looked around; then grabbed my 
glasses off the floor, and looked around again.  Nobody had even 
glanced our way.
     The car on our left, had the windows closed, and they were 
so steamed-up, you couldn't see inside, while the car rocked in 
an all-too-suggestive rhythm.  On the other side, there was a 
gap, but the people in the car two spaces away seemed far more 
interested in what was taking place on the screen, than some 
little accident taking place in the car next to them.  I guess 
most of the people thought the scream came from the movie.  For 
sure, there was a lot of it going on.
     "I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't mean to tickle you.  You're 
just so sexy."
     "I'm sorry too," she replied, "it just caught me by 
surprise.  I couldn't help myself.  I didn't hurt you, did I?"  
Suzy seemed so apologetic.
     "No," I said; checking my glasses, "no harm done."
     "Oh," she said.  "Do you want to try again?  I don't mind."
     "Huh?" I said; surprised that she would even ask, after her 
first reaction.
     "It just caught me by surprise, the first time," she 
explained.  "I promise I won't scream or jerk away, this time.  
Please?"
     "Well, if you're sure . . . ."
     Suzy nodded, and I saw her bite her lip to keep from 
flinching, when I lowered my mouth to her bare navel again.  This 
time, there was only a slight flinch from the little girl, before 
I was lapping at her bellybutton and then up and down her tummy, 
like a dog trying to get the last lick of food out of his bowl.
     At first, Suzy flinched, the first couple of times my tongue 
touched her sensitive belly, but then she started moaning 
quietly.
     "Ooh, that feels good," she said; sinking into the seat-
cushion, and snuggling down in my lap, while I first tongued and 
then kissed her all over her sexy little tummy.  Greatly daring, 
since she seemed to like it, I slowly worked my way upwards, 
until her shirt was four inches above her bra, and I was licking 
the sensitive skin just underneath her budding young breasts.
     "Oooh, don't stop," she moaned.
     I had no intention of stopping.  I didn't even TRY to remove 
the little girl's brassiere.  All I knew was they fastened in the 
back, where I couldn't see.  I just slid the lacy red 
undergarment up, until it popped over the sweet thrust of her 
budding young titties.  Such a delectable sight.  I began running 
my tongue around the perky young nipples, while my right hand 
strayed up to the elastic guarding the little girl's other 
treasures.




                                10


     Suzy actually pushed back, as this time my hand slid into 
her panties with no effort; finding her all hot and wet inside.  
For the first time, my finger slid up INSIDE a girl.  I almost 
fainted from the sheer pleasure.
     It was still awkward for me; fumbling at her through her 
panties.  So I pulled them down.  Suzy didn't object; even 
lifting her cute little butt enough to let me slide them off.
     I had only intended to slide the panties down far enough to 
give me a little better access to the little girl's charms.  But 
Suzy wanted them out of the way; kicking her legs until they were 
dangling around her ankles.  I picked her panties up, after she 
tossed them on the floor with a final kick, and stuffed them into 
my pocket.  If Dad ever found a little girl's panties floating 
around in the car after I had gone out on a date . . . Dad is NOT 
dumb.
     Once again I slid my finger into the little girl; and once 
again I almost blacked out from overload of pleasure.  The 
squeezing of her tight little cunny was SO sexy.
     Suzy wasn't in much better shape than I was.  Maybe even 
worse, in fact.  By now, the little girl was panting and moaning, 
"Don't stop.  Oh, please don't stop!" over and over again.  I was 
nursing on her sexy little titties like a baby, while the big 
finger or my right hand slid into the tightest, sweetest little 
hole in the whole wide world.  The rhythmic clamping of Suzy's 
vagina on my finger, almost had me squirting cum in my shorts, as 
I imagined how it would feel to slide my prick in there.  God, 
how I wanted to try!
     "Uh, Uuungh!  Oh Mark, I. . I.  IeeEE . . . ."
     Oh shit!  Suzy was about to let out another screech, and I 
didn't have a hand to spare to stop her.  On the other hand, I 
knew Suzy would be GREATLY disappointed, if I stooped frigging 
her; she was so close.  I had never seen a girl "cum" before, but 
I figured I was about to, as the girl's symptoms so closely 
matched those I had, when I jacked off in my bedroom every night.  
I was right.
     Hurriedly, I removed my mouth from the little girl's tit, 
and kissed her.  Suzy could yell into MY mouth, all she wanted.  
I sure wouldn't mind.
     My left hand replaced my mouth at rubbing her now bare 
titties.  Just in time.
     "Mmmphf!  Oh!  Mphrk!  I  Lmmvvph  Yomphoooh."  Suzy jerked 
uncontrollably underneath me, as she jammed her crotch 
desperately up against my probing finger.  There was a straining 
sensation, and then my finger went even farther up inside her, 
while her bucking gyrations got even wilder, if possible.  Suzy's 
arm had come around my head; trapping my mouth against hers, 
while she yelled and screamed her pleasure into mine.  I could 
barely understand what she was saying, but I got the message 
anyway.  When she finally stopped thrashing and screaming, I 
pulled my mouth off hers, and replied, "I love you too, 
sweetheart."  And I did.  No, I wasn't about to marry her; after 
all, she was only 12 years old.  But I still did love her.  I 
would do whatever was necessary to keep her from being hurt.  
That's love, isn't it?



                                11


     Only it seems I already had . . . hurt her, that is.  As I 
reluctantly pulled my big finger out of Suzy's clasping little 
slit, with a slight "pop," I noticed it was streaked with red.  
Oh shit!  The little girl was bleeding!
     For a split-second, I hoped that Suzy was just menstruating, 
but then realized that A: she was probably too young, and B: if 
she had been, she would have had a tampon or bandage between her 
legs.  Oh shit.  I must have accidentally torn her inside, with 
my fingernail.
     "We'd better get you home, where there's some antibiotics, I 
said quietly; trying not to frighten her.  "I think I hurt you 
inside," I explained; showing Suzy my blood-streaked finger, and 
hoping she didn't just freak out.
     For a second, Suzy stared wide-eyed at my finger, then 
giggled.  Giggled?
     "Well," she said, "I had HOPED that you would do that with 
your PRICK, instead of your finger, but at least it was you.  
It's OK, Mark, I had to lose it sometime."
     At first, I didn't know what she meant, then I did a double-
take.  Suzy couldn't mean . . . she did.  I had just taken the 
little girl's virginity with my clumsy big finger.  Thankfully, 
Suzy didn't get all up tight about it, like I know some girls 
would.  I guess she hadn't planned on saving it for her future 
husband.  (Boy, was I naive!)
     I carefully wiped my finger on the only thing available, 
that wouldn't show . . . my own underpants.  I pulled up a 
corner, and wiped my finger; leaving a streaky brown stain on 
them.  I didn't care, as long as Suzy was OK.  She was.  For 
several minutes, we cuddled there, while we both caught our 
breaths.  Then, I started gently caressing the little girl, from 
head to foot, while she hugged me, and occasionally raised her 
cute little mouth to mine for another incredibly sweet kiss.  I 
could have spent the rest of the night doing just this; only it 
seems that Suzy had other ideas.
      "What about you?" she asked.  "Momma says boys like to have 
their dicks rubbed, just like girls like their tits rubbed.  
Would you like me to rub your prick?"
     Does a bear shit in the woods?  Is the Pope Catholic?  I 
could barely nod "yes" in answer, before two lively little hands 
were reaching in my pants, and for the second time that night, I 
almost came in them.
     Since Suzy seemed to want to, I let her have fun, just like 
I had.  She spent several minutes just examining my prick, before  
grabbing it in both hands and stroking up and down.  Her hands 
were too small for just one of them to go all the way around it, 
and I had to direct her efforts at first.
     Then she seemed to get the hang of it; and I just sagged 
back in my seat; letting the little girl jack me off.  I had both 
eyes closed for a moment; barely aware of the banging and shrieks 
going on from the movie, as the little girl brought me closer and 
closer to the best orgasm of my life.  Suddenly, I was worried.  
What if Suzy didn't want me to cum; squirting thick gobs of 
greasy white stuff all over her hands?  She might be grossed out.
     "Oh Jesus," I gasped.  "I'm gonna . . ."
     "Are you going to cum?" she asked, innocently.


                                12


     "Uh . . . huhuh . . . I . . . Ieeee . . ." I groaned.  I got 
the shock of my life.  Instead of letting go, I felt something 
warm and wet and wonderful slide over the throbbing head of my 
prick; as I finally let go the first cum of my life into 
something other than my own flying fist.  Oh shit, that felt 
good!  My head was tilted back in ecstasy, but I somehow managed 
to bend my head enough to look down to see what Suzy had done to 
make it feel so good.  Oh shit, indeed!  The little girl was 
sucking my cock!
     Not only that, she was doing a great job of it too; pursing 
her lips around the head, and sliding her mouth up and down, 
while I ejaculated squirt after thick sticky squirt, right down 
her throat.  I couldn't believe it.  I had HEARD of guys getting 
"blow-jobs" from dates who liked the boy, but didn't want to "go 
all the way" or were afraid of getting pregnant.  I just had 
never expected to get one.  Certainly not on my first date, and 
emphatically not from a little 12-year-old girl.  Only I was.
     Not only was I getting a blow-job from the little girl, I 
was getting a GREAT blow-job.  Suzy didn't pull off in disgust at 
me squirting stuff out of the thing I peed out of, right down her 
sexy little throat.  She licked and sucked, and swallowed every 
drop!  Only when my mighty squirts had slowed to just a trickle, 
did she stop sucking; pausing to pull off; but still licking up 
each white drop that oozed out of the tip afterwards and 
swallowing it.
     "Momma says boys like it, when you do that," said Suzy, 
innocently.  "Did YOU like it?"
     Oh shit, did I ever!  "Thanks Suzy," was all I could gasp.
     "Thank YOU, Mark," was her surprising reply.  "Could I do 
that again sometime?  It was really neat, when you started 
squirting that stuff in my mouth.  I almost couldn't keep up with 
it, but I didn't want to waste any . . . it was SO neat."
     "Anytime, Suzy," I managed to gasp.  "Anytime."
     The little girl immediately lowered her head to my crotch, 
and started sucking again!
     "Except now," I said; stopping her.  "A guy needs some time 
to recover, after cumming like that."
     "Oh," said Suzy, looking somewhat disappointedly at the 
flaccid penis in her hand.  "Do you mind if I keep sucking on it, 
even though it's soft?"
     "Whatever you want, Suzy," I said.  This MUST be a wet-
dream.  Still, I had already blown a thick wad down the little 
girl's throat.  No wet-dream would survive that.  I still 
couldn't believe that the little 12-year-old actually LIKED 
sucking my prick, but the evidence sure pointed that way.  Well, 
if Suzy like sucking my prick, then I for sure wasn't going to 
stop her.  Even soft, her lively little mouth around my sensitive 
peter felt wonderful.  I could have lain there all night.  Only 
about this time, the lights suddenly came on, and Suzy and I 
pulled apart guiltily.  If anybody had seen us . . . .
     The movie was over.
     Hurriedly, we pulled ourselves into sitting position, and 
Suzy pushed her short little skirt down, so that her state of 
undress underneath didn't show.  Then, we glanced guiltily 
around.


                                13


     Thankfully, nobody had noticed.  I guess those people who 
have dirty enough minds TO notice, had been too involved with 
kinky doings of their own.  We fastened our seatbelts, and joined 
the line of cars heading for the exit.
     "Are you hungry?" I asked Suzy.  The popcorn had been almost 
two hours before.
     "A little," she replied.  "Still, I'd rather get home, so we 
can . . ."  Here the little girl subsided into blushing.  My ears 
were flaming red myself.
     "We still have 45 minutes," I said; taking in the time on 
the clock by the light of a passing street-lamp.  (The clock 
light had burned out a couple of years before, but Dad had never 
replaced it.  I sure wasn't going to volunteer to.)
     "Let's grab a hamburger first, OK?"
     "You don't HAVE to," objected Suzy.  "You've already done 
more than enough, just taking me to the movies."
     "You're my DATE," I reminded her, "and first-dates should be 
treated properly."  I didn't explain that she was MY first date, 
as well as me being hers.  A guy deserves to keep SOME secrets.  
Besides, I liked her.
     Suzy stopped objecting, just blushing a little, at the 
implied compliment.
     I was going to pull up to the drive-thru window, at Joe's 
Burger-Mill, but Suzy had other ideas.  "Let's go inside," she 
requested; looking at me with hope.
     I raised my eyebrows.
     "Nobody will believe I was out with you," she said, "unless 
somebody sees me.  Of course, if you don't want anybody to see 
that you had to take out a seventh-grader . . . ."  Here Suzy 
paused, waiting.
     Well, THAT was sure not going to stop me.  Heck, by now I 
felt PROUD that the little girl had been my first date.  
Still . . . "What about your panties?" I asked.  The object in 
question still made damp lump in my pocket.
     "Nobody will know I'm not wearing them, unless I bend over," 
she said.  "It'll be kind of exciting, knowing I'm in there with 
you, in front of all those people, and only you know I'm not 
wearing panties.  Don't you think so?"
     Wow, did I ever!
     "Oh God, I'm just such a slut," she giggled.  "Let's go do 
it, before I lose my nerve."  So we did.
     I got out; went around to her side, and let her out, just 
like a proper date.  Besides, with the slight wind whipping by, I 
wanted to be able to give Suzy some cover, if the wind picked up 
her dress . . . thankfully, it didn't.
     Inside, "all those people" turned out to be a couple I never 
saw before, and two girls from Suzy's class in school. That was 
all; thank goodness.  As it was, Suzy's face was flaming red, as 
she sat down with me.
     "Oh God!  They saw me," she said.
     "You mean, they know you're . . ."
     "No . . . I don't think so . . . it's just that I felt like 
they can see that I'm not wearing anything under this dress.  I'm 
so embarrassed."



                                14


     "It was YOUR idea," I reminded her.  "Do you want to go?"
     "No.  That's the whole idea.  Just sitting here with you, 
with my bare cunny rubbing against the seat, knowing they MIGHT 
know, is so exciting.  Ooooh."  Suzy shuddered.  "God, I think 
I'm going to cum, just thinking about it."
     It was my turn to shudder.  "Not here.  If you yelped like 
you did in the car . . . ."
     "I'll be OK."
     "Take your order?" The cheerful voice of the waitress 
interrupted us.  We had been so wrapped up in our conversation, 
that the approach of Carol Whittington had caught us by surprise.  
I looked into the cute face of the girl I had been having sexual 
fantasies about, for the past two years.  Carol isn't as pretty 
as Marsha Swiggins, but I wouldn't have the nerve to approach 
Marsha for a date.  Carol I had already asked three times, and 
three times she turned me down.  Each time, she "had a previous 
appointment," or "was going out of town" or some similar excuse.  
She hadn't ever said "no," but I can take a message.
     "Hi, Carol," Suzy's sweet young voice called our waitress's 
attention to who she was addressing.
     "Oh.  Oh, Hi Suzy . . . Hi Mark . . . Are you babysitting 
her?"
     Girls can be so cruel.
     "I'm his DATE," said Suzy, fiercely.
     "Oh?" asked Carol; looking at me, "is that so?"
     "Yes," I said firmly, "she is."  I wasn't about to let the 
little girl down.
     Carol shrugged, and took our order.  She didn't say anything 
more.
     Two burgers, a malt and a coke later, we were ready to 
leave, but first Suzy had to go to the restroom.  By that time, 
the seat next to me was soaking wet, and I was wondering how I 
was going to  make MY exit, without everyone noticing the damp 
stain in the front of my pants.  Just sitting there next to the 
little girl, knowing she was naked next to me, and I could put my 
finger right up inside her if I tried was enough to make my prick 
drool rivers of pre-cum.  The only thing that kept me from doing 
it, was the knowledge that if I did, the little girl's yelp of 
pleasure would attract everyone in the room's attention.  For 
sure, Suzy wouldn't stop me.
     I was trying to surreptitiously wipe up Suzy's secretions, 
so that her state of arousal wouldn't be obvious to whoever 
looked where she had sat, when we left, when Carol once more 
appeared at my elbow, without seeming to cross the room to do it.
     "Anything else?" she asked, while handing me the bill.
     I wondered how you went about ordering the waitress.  "No, 
that's it," I said, including an extra dollar or two for the tip.  
I both wanted to make a good impression, and the service HAD been 
pretty good.
     Carol leaned a little closer to me.  Her perfume was 
devastating.
     "She's a little young, don't you think?" she asked.
     At my angry look, she continued, "Oh no . . . I don't think 
there's anything wrong with it . . . it's just why don't you ask 
a REAL girl like me out?"


                                15


     I looked at Carol in astonishment, then slight anger.  I HAD 
asked her out; and that very night too.  What business was it of 
HERS, that I was taking Suzy out, when she had turned me down 
flat?  I was about to bite her ears off, when I remembered.  
Carol had NOT turned me "down flat."  She had given me that same 
old excuse that she was "busy tonight."  Yeah, sure . . . she was 
ALWAYS busy Friday nights, whenever I called her.  So why should 
I believe anything she said?
     I was working up a real head of steam; preparatory to biting 
her head off, when it dawned on me.  Carol WAS busy every Friday 
night.  Oh shit!  I had almost blown any chance of even having 
her as a friend, let alone as a date when I realized this.  I was 
still annoyed though.  How dare she pick on the one girl nice 
enough to go out with me, when SHE wouldn't?
     "I asked you first, and you turned me down flat," I reminded 
her.  "You were 'too busy', remember?" I hissed at her.
     "There ARE other days besides Fridays, you know," she hissed 
back.
     I wasn't sure whether to be angry or amused.  Carol was 
acting as if she was my girlfriend, and I was cheating on her by 
going out with Suzy!  It was almost as if she was jealous!  
"Sorry," I said, sarcastically, "you never hinted that some other 
time might be better."
     "Oh . . . sorry," she apologized.  "Call me next week 
sometime, OK?"
     Now it was MY turn to apologize for previous appointments.  
"Uh, gee . . . I would, but . . . ."
     How to say this?  "But I have previous obligations now of 
over a month."  At her disappointed look, I went on; feeling like 
I was putting my foot in my mouth, when I did so.  "My sister's 
set me up with dates for the next five weeks," I said, blushing 
at having to admit this.  "I won't be free until it's over, 
because I promised her."
     "Your sister," said Carol, "set you up."  She looked angrily 
at the little girl approaching from the bathroom, interrupting 
her conversation with me.
     "Your sister, huh?"
     "What's with HER?" asked Suzy.
     "Oh nothing," I replied.  "I just think she's jealous of 
you."
     Suzy giggled.  "She needn't be," she said.  "She's MUCH 
prettier than I am."
     I looked at Suzy, then at Carol's retreating back.
     "No," I said, suddenly realizing that my joke had the ring 
of truth to it . . . I think Carol really WAS jealous; hard as 
that is to believe.  "You're just as pretty as she is, and twice 
as sexy," I told the little girl.
     "You just say that," said Suzy, blushing.
     "No, it's true," I said, looking at the little girl closely, 
because it was.
     I guess my words had the ring of truth about them, because 
Suzy didn't say anything else, until I had paid the bill and we 
were back in the car.




                                16


     "You really think I'm sexy?" she finally asked, as I pulled 
out of the lot.  10:45, and just enough time to get her home.  
"Yes," I said, somewhat shortly, slightly annoyed that she had to 
even ask.
     "Thanks Mark," she said, and snuggled up to me.  "Thanks for 
making my first date just perfect."
     I put my arm around her, and drove the rest of the way, with 
one hand.
     We got there with ten minutes to spare.  Since I had enough 
time, and she didn't have to rush, I walked her to the door.
     "Thanks for making MY first date just perfect too," I said; 
somewhat pleased by the look of surprise in Suzy's eyes.  It 
might be embarrassing to admit it was my first date as well, but 
it was better than feeling like I was lying to her.
     I leaned over, kissed her forehead, and started back to the 
car.
     "Mark!"  Suzy's angry voice stopped me.  I turned to see 
what she wanted; then I remembered the little girl's panties in 
my pocket . . . only it wasn't that.
     "Aren't you going to come in?" she asked.
     "Your mother isn't home," I reminded her, "and I don't want 
to . . . ."
     I didn't say what I didn't want to do, because I wanted to 
do EVERYTHING with this little girl . . . Uhuh, everything; even 
the "big nasty."
     "Mark," she exclaimed in disgust, "why do you think Momma 
made such a POINT of telling us that she was going to be out.  
She knew we couldn't do anything at the drive-in, and boys and 
girls need time to be alone together after a date."
     "Oh," I said weakly.  "Are you sure?"
     "I know my own mother," said Suzy, with finality.
     Once inside the door however, her confidence seemed to slip 
away.  "C'mon," she said, quietly sneaking down the hall.  "Oh 
good," she said, after peeking in one of the bedrooms, "Ginny's 
asleep.  It wasn't until she had looked in the bedroom across the 
hall though, and even turned on the light for a second, the she 
regained her assuredness.  "See," she said, "Momma's not home 
yet, and won't be 'til 6:00.  We've got all night."
     "You promised to be in bed before 1:00," I reminded her.
     "I didn't say I would be in bed alone, though," she reminded 
me.
     I shuddered at the delicious thought.  Still . . . .
     "We'd better not," I decided.  The thought of the generous 
woman coming home after a long night's work, and finding me in 
bed with her little girl, was NOT the way I planned on thanking 
Suzy's mother.
     "We still have almost two hours," Suzy reminded me.  "So 
come here, 'Big Boy' and show me if that story you gave about 
thinking I'm sexy is true."
     I melted into her arms.  Things weren't very clear for the 
next five minutes.  I vaguely remember kissing her standing up, 
with my hands wrapped around her, up under her skirt, massaging 
her bare ass.  From there, things got fuzzy.
     My next clear memory was sitting on the couch, kissing her 
some more, while she fumbled with my belt-buckle.


                                17


     "Uh . . . do you really think we should?" I asked her.
     "If you stop now, I'll . . . ," she said fiercely.  I gave 
in.  I didn't really want to argue anyway.  I lifted myself off 
the couch, and helped her remove my pants.  I had to take off my 
own shoes and socks though.  While I did, Suzy quickly slipped 
her skirt down, and then lifted her short little shirt over her 
head.  Then, reaching behind herself, she shrugged out of the 
lacy red brassiere.  Standing in front of me, was a very pretty, 
very sexy, and VERY naked 12-year-old little girl.
     I hurriedly finished removing MY shirt, so I could feel the 
little girl's naked skin next to mine.  This time when we kissed, 
it was like nothing I had ever done before.  If you've never 
kissed a naked little girl, while being completely naked 
yourself, you haven't lived.  I felt like all my previous life 
had just existed, to bring me to this point.  If her mother had 
walked in at that point, and taken a gun and shot me, I would 
have felt I had lived a full life.
     Though, from Suzy's hints, her mother would more likely have 
left and closed the door, so she could wait until we were 
finished.  I wasn't sure I believed that, but it did make it 
easier to caress the little girl without looking over my shoulder 
every minute.  Yeah, at first that's all I did: Caress her and 
cuddle with her, naked skin to naked skin.  I did NOT lay her 
down on the couch and fuck the shit out of the little girl, no 
matter how tempting it was.  At least, not at first anyway.
     The feel of Suzy's hands running up and down my back, 
pinching my butt, and stroking my sides, while I made similar 
maneuvers with her, was almost devastatingly sexy.  Thus, when 
she reached for my prick, I had to stop her.
     "If you grab that, I'm going to blow it all over you," I 
warned.  "I thought you wanted to suck it again, like in the 
car."
     "I do," she said, with a shiver; making my day.  
"Only . . ."
     ". . . Only what?" I asked; figuring she wanted to "be done" 
at the same time, being as horny by now as I was.  Only I didn't 
figure she would be intent on something even more exciting.
     "Could we try doing it, just like grown-ups do?" she asked 
hesitantly; almost blowing my mind.  "Please?  Momma says it 
feels real good to the guy too.  We don't have to do it again, if 
you don't want to; I just want to try it once, just to see what 
it's like.  Momma says it feels real good.  Please?  I promise I 
won't tell anybody you let me."
     If you think I said no, when my prick was throbbing with 
need to get into this girl somewhere, anywhere, then you don't 
know how horny 16-year-old boys get.  "You'd better hurry," I 
warned her.  "If you don't fuck this, or suck it, or something, 
pretty quick, it's going to go off without you."
     The next thing I knew, Suzy was lying back on the couch, 
legs spread, while my prick was spreading the lips of her barely 
pubescent cunny.  The feel of her cunny-lips spreading around the 
head of my prick, while the sweetest hole in the entire world 
sucked the tip inside was too much.  It was all I could do to 
keep from cumming, before I even got inside her.



                                18


     In fact, I couldn't  A thick squirt of white dribbled out 
the tip, as I desperately fought down the urge to cum before I 
had more than an inch of thick prick buried in her tight little 
cunny where it belonged.  Somehow I managed to hold on; forcing 
my prick to keep from spasming, and holding back my cum by sheer 
force of will.
     It was only after I managed to gain some measure of self-
control, that the sight of the thick white baby-juice oozing from 
the tip of my prick, where luckily none of it had gotten inside 
her, that I realized the chance we were taking.
     "O Damn!" I said, with feeling.
     "What's the matter?  Don't you WANT to?" asked Suzy.
     "I don't have any condoms," I said miserably.  In the first 
place, I had never bought any before.  In the second, you only 
take some along, if you are PLANNING of fucking the girl.  With a 
little girl like Suzy, that would have been an insult; implying 
that she was a 12-year-old slut.  I had good evidence on my 
finger, that Suzy was NOT a slut.  And I didn't dare take the 
chance of getting her pregnant.  Like I said, "Oh shit."
     "It's OK . . . ," she said, ". . . you can cum in me.  My 
period was last week, so it should be safe."  God!  Previously, I 
hadn't even THOUGHT about the little girl getting pregnant; now 
it was ALL I could think about.  Too late though . . . my prick 
was leaking my seed into the little girl, as I involuntarily 
hunched forward to bury myself inside her.  I couldn't help 
myself.  Suzy only let out a little squeak; as for the first time 
in her life, her belly was filled with throbbing male cock; 
leaking pre-cum and sperm into the little girl's womb.
     For over 10 minutes, We just lay there, enjoying the feeling 
of being mated.  Then I started sliding in and out, until Suzy 
seemed to catch my urgency, and began pushing back at me, just as 
hard as I was pushing into her.  I stopped worrying about cumming 
inside her.  It was too late now; and anyway, Suzy had made it 
plain that she didn't mind.  Besides, I was already doing it.  I 
felt the first satisfying trickle of sperm ripple through the 
tube on the bottom of my prick, before being forcefully injected 
in the belly of the sweet little girl working so hard to get me 
to cum inside her.  God, did that feel good!
     One, two, three shots of sperm I squirted in the belly of 
this incredible little girl  My eyes were glazed, as I caught a 
glimmer of light reflected in my glasses.  Surely we had turned 
out the light in the bathroom, when we went by . . . .
     I couldn't think straight.  I kissed Suzy hungrily, and she 
kissed me back.  I swear her tight little hole milked every drop 
of sperm right up inside her, while she grunted, groaned, and 
panted underneath me.  Thankfully, she didn't yell or scream like 
she did at the drive-in.  For sure, that would have woken her 
little sister up, and who knows how much trouble that would 
cause?  Maybe Suzy's mother wouldn't mind Suzy and I "making out" 
on the couch.  I found it hard to believe that she wouldn't 
object to my having actual vaginal intercourse with her little 
girl though.  Especially, unprotected intercourse.





                                19


     Even if I could believe that, (No way, buddy!) there's not a 
chance in the world that she would want me giving Suzy's little 
sister Ginny lessons in "making a baby" by showing the little 
girl how I did it with her big sister.  SOME things are going 
just too far.  Thinking about this, I turned my head and checked 
the bathroom.  No, I had been mistaken . . . the light was out.  
Thank goodness!  I breathed a sigh of relief.
     After Suzy and I caught our breaths, we cleaned up.  For the 
first time in my life, I got to watch a girl douche.  Suzy even 
put on a little show for me; working the wand in and out to see 
if she could tease some life back into my prick.  I think she 
really wanted to suck me off again, just like she had earlier.  
Only after two orgasms like that, it was going to take HOURS for 
me to recover enough to get another hard-on.
       Oh well.  Later on in life, I would develop more stamina.  
At the time, it was a wonder I managed as much as I did; getting 
a blow-job, and actually managing to fuck the little girl, long 
enough for her to get off both times.  I guess I was just born 
lucky.
     After cleaning up the couch, and getting dressed, There was 
still over half an hour left before Suzy was supposed to be in 
bed.  Still, I knew it was time for me to leave; even though my 
parents wouldn't get worried unless I didn't show up for 
breakfast in the morning.  (Or call.  I guess Daddy knew that if 
a 16-year-old was going to, he was going to, and there wasn't too 
much a parent could do by that time.)
     As I thanked Suzy for the wonderful night, she teased me 
some more.  "Thank YOU," she said.  "But you know, you don't HAVE 
to leave . . . you could slide into bed with me and Ginny, you 
know.  Momma wouldn't mind."
     Oh yeah?  SURE, Honey, sure.  And the stork brings babies.  
Thinking of which, I apologized again for not "taking 
precautions."  God, if Suzy got pregnant . . . .
     "I don't mind," she said; kissing me on the way out.  The 
next thing I knew I was outside the door; I heard a "click" as 
the latch was bolted, and the date was finally over.
     Thinking about what Suzy might mean by, "I don't mind," was 
almost enough to make me knock on the door, and take Suzy up on 
her offer of sleeping with her and her little sister.  
Thankfully, practicality reared its head, and I managed to 
convince myself to go home.  Otherwise, who knows what might have 
happened?















                                20


                            Chapter 3
                          Interlude #1.

     Lonnie was waiting up for me, and I still had Suzy's cute 
little red panties in my pocket, when I got home.
     "Well, how did it go?" asked my big sister.  She was only 
wearing a light robe, as if to be ready to "pay up" if things had 
gone sour.
     "That's one I owe you," I told my big sister, by way of 
response.
     Lonnie just giggled, "Oh don't worry.  I'll find a way to 
collect, that won't hurt you, any more than this hurt me."
     Once again I was tempted.  This time, I was tempted to 
follow my big sister into HER bedroom, just to see if she would 
object.  Once again conscience reared its head; and I went to my 
bed, where I slept alone.  Again, who knows what might have 
happened if I had followed my instincts?
     I didn't see Suzy again, until three days later . . . that 
is, if you don't count the quick glimpse I got when they were 
about to pull out.
     Tammy was getting everyone in the car, when she saw me 
trying to catch Suzy's eye, where she was sitting in the back 
seat.  The older woman got out and came over to see me.
     "I'm sorry Mark," she said, "but we're leaving to see my 
mother, for the next three days.  You'll have to wait to talk to 
Suzy, until we get back."
     "Oh," I said, disappointed.
     As she turned to go, Tammy added a sentence that made me 
shiver for the next three days.  "Oh, and thanks for taking such 
good care of Suzy," she said, "both at the movie, and afterwards.  
Not many girls are lucky enough to get treated like that on their 
first date.  Especially not ones as young as my daughter.  Suzy 
told me everything you two did last night, and I want you to know 
that I really appreciate what you did for her."
     Oh shit.  Tammy couldn't possibly mean what I thought she 
did, could she?
     "Maybe you two can get together some night, when we get 
back," she added, confusing me still further.  "Anyway, I want to 
thank you for making my daughter's first date so special.  It was 
really nice of you to treat her like a woman, instead of just a 
little girl.  Maybe sometime I can show you just how much I 
appreciate this."  With this, the beautiful woman leaned over and 
kissed me!
     Right on the lips, too!  I barely had time to respond, when 
she was gone; heading for the car, while licking her lips in 
almost an obscene manner, as if the taste of the kiss we had just 
shared was as full of semen as the one her daughter and I had 
shared the night before.  "I'll give this one to Suzy," she said, 
just before shutting the door, and pulling out.  They must have 
been in a hurry.  The last thing I heard was when she rolled down 
the window, while she was backing out, and yelled at me that, 
"The NEXT one is for me!"
     I wondered just what kind of family Suzy had, anyway.  For 
sure, it looked like it was going to be fun finding out.



                                21


     It's amazing how you can do without something for years, and 
THINK you know what you're missing.  You might even complain a 
little, about how you're being deprived, as you THINK you know 
what being deprived is . . . after all you've never even had it 
yet.
     HOWEVER, once you've had something, be it ice-cream, love, 
or the simple accessibility of a telephone, and find yourself 
suddenly bereft of it once again, then you find out what being 
deprived, REALLY means.  Thus it was, with me and sex.
     I had never had sex before Suzy.  After having it for only 
one night, it was sheer torture doing without.  Amazing, isn't 
it?  Saturday night was sheer frustration; I almost found myself 
going down to my sisters' room, and asking one of them to relieve 
the pressure in my balls.  Only Lonnie had only guaranteed I 
would have a "good time" on my dates.  She had NOT volunteered to 
be a receptacle for my sperm, whenever I got horny.  And as for 
our 7-year-old sister . . . <Shudder.>
     With Chrissie's big mouth, if she found out I had even ASKED 
Lonnie for a "mercy fuck," our parents would know within a week, 
even if the little girl tried to keep it a secret.  And if the 
little girl actually saw us fucking . . . or I tried to fuck 
her . . . Jesus!  What kind of pervert was I becoming, that I'd 
even THINK of fucking a girl that young . . . besides, she was my 
own little SISTER, for Christ's sake!
     A nagging little voice in my head reminded me that, "Lonnie 
was my BIG sister, and I didn't seem to have any qualms about 
fucking HER."
     I reminded myself fiercely that, "Lonnie has been fucking 
for years now, while Chrissie probably not only hasn't even seen 
a naked prick yet, she probably hasn't even masturbated yet.  
She's just a little GIRL, for Chrisake!"
     In spite of this, I found myself with a handful of runny 
semen, while my mind imagined the little girl's tight little 
cunny squeezing the sperm out of my prick, like Suzy's had done 
so nicely the night before.  Afterwards, I felt guilty about even 
THINKING about fucking Chrissie with my big prick filling her 
tight little cunny; squirting her tiny little womb full of 
incestuous cum, while she moaned and groaned underneath me; 
begging me to squirt the thick white stuff that makes babies 
inside her, just so she could "feel what it's like."  Damn!  I 
was doing it again!
     Fuck one little girl, and it seems like you're a pervert 
forever.  After blowing a second load in the old pair of 
underpants I used as a "sperm-rag" I finally managed to go to 
sleep, with images of Lonnie, Suzy, her little sister, and 
Chrissie all dancing naked in front of me; each of them begging 
me to, "Fuck me first . . . please?"
     I woke up in the morning to wet sheets.  Damn!  I hadn't 
done that in months.  After finally getting to fuck my brains out 
after so long of doing without, you'd think I wouldn't have a 
wet-dream for months.  To top it off, I had jacked off TWICE the 
previous night, imagining I was filling my little sister's womb 
with incestuous seed.  After THAT, you'd never imagine my body 
needing release so badly that it would do it in the middle of the 
night.


                                22


     I sighed, and changed the sheets.  Hopefully, things 
wouldn't be so bad by the time for me to retire on Sunday.  
Thankfully they weren't.  Oh, I did walk around all day with a 
half-a-hard-on, but one quick jerk-off that evening imagining 
that Suzy had managed to sneak over from her house, was enough to 
give me relief.  I had just finished spasming the little girl's 
tight little tummy full of cum (in my mind) and was wiping up, 
when Lonnie knocked on my door, and then stuck her head in.
     "Are you OK, Mark?" she asked; looking concerned.
     Damn!  Why hadn't the girl asked me that last night?
     "I'm fine," I responded, sheepishly, as my prick wilted 
under the covers.  I was ashamed of myself for even thinking such 
thoughts about my own sister, now that the pressure in my balls 
was relieved.
     Thankfully Lonnie didn't push things.  "Oh," she said, "I 
thought you needed something."  Then she was gone.
     For a second, I wondered what she meant; unspeakable erotic 
fantasies running through my head.  Then I relaxed.  Lonnie had 
probably heard me groaning when I came, and had just been worried 
about her little brother being hurt.  (In the back of my mind, a 
nasty voice whispered, "What if she heard you groaning; knew WHY 
you were groaning; and wanted to 'help out?'")
     I ignored the nasty little voice.  I knew my big sister had 
the reputation of a "good girl" in spite of all the boys she went 
out with.
     (The nasty voice responded, "Then how's she going to 'pay 
up' on her 'guarantee' if she really IS a 'good girl?'")
     I answered myself that, "In the first place, Lonnie doesn't 
expect to HAVE to pay up.  If my date with Suzy was any example, 
she didn't have much to worry about.  After all, I only expected 
to have a date, and maybe feel a girl up a little.  Wet-dream 
dates like that first one had been, weren't really necessary.  
Just a girl who didn't act like a 'cold fish' and make me keep my 
distance."
     (The nasty little voice reminded me that, "Still, things 
could go wrong, that even Lonnie didn't figure on.")
     I reminded myself that, "That's HER problem, not mine," and 
snuggled down to sleep.
     (The voice just chuckled nastily, and then let me sleep.)

     Monday was back-to-school, and thing slipped back to normal.  
Except, it seemed to me, that all the girls treated me slightly 
different, as if they all KNEW somehow, that I was no longer the 
"dork" of a virgin that I had been.  Is there some mysterious 
stamp "VIRGIN" that only girls can see on a guy's forehead, that 
vanishes when he first gets laid?  Even the three girls who had 
turned me down so soundly the week before seemed somewhat 
friendlier.  Jocylin Marshal actually brushed by me getting 
through the classroom door, and didn't look like she had 
accidentally touched a maggot.  In fact, (believe this if you 
will) she actually blushed!
     Since Suzy had left on Saturday, and wouldn't be back until 
that night, I knew there was no way the little girl had told 
anyone what we had done.  Besides, she wasn't that type of girl.



                                23


     Still, SOMETHING was different about the way the girls 
treated me.  I wondered if I was being "set up" somehow.  Then it 
dawned on me; I was!
     My big sister had promised to get me dates for five weeks.  
Obviously, she couldn't do it if everybody thought I was a "nerd" 
so she was doing SOMETHING to correct that image.  I don't know 
what it was, but I liked it.  It's NICE to be looked at by pretty 
girls, as if you're somebody interesting, and not some slug that 
crawled out from under a rock.  Obviously there was more PR in 
getting a date than I had realized before.  It suddenly dawned on 
me, that maybe THIS was what my big sister meant in the part 
about "not knowing who or how to ask."  If I had had any brains, 
I would have had my big sister help me YEARS before.  Suddenly, 
things I had heard before like, "To get a pretty girl to be 
interested in you, you've got to HAVE a pretty girl already 
showing interest," began to make sense.  If I'd HAD any, I could 
have asked Lonnie to be my "pretty girl" and be seen with me, so 
I would look "interesting" to others.  Damn!  I remembered many 
times when Lonnie had offered to go out with me, when I was 
feeling alone and lonely, and I had been dumb enough to turn her 
down, because she was my "sister" and I wanted to pick up GIRLS!  
Shit, what a bonehead I was!
     To make things even worse, (in my mind) Lonnie wasn't just a 
"pretty" girl; she was gorgeous.  When I imagined the dates I 
MIGHT have had by now, if I had only . . . I wondered why they 
didn't lock up guys like me for their own protection.  I was that 
dumb.
     Now that I thought about it, Lonnie had some girlfriends 
that were almost wet-dreams themselves.  If I had just shown 
interest in being around HER, then I would have automatically 
been around THEM.
     I still didn't know what my big sister was up to, but it was 
obvious that she had 10 times the brains that I did, when it came 
to dealing with the opposite sex.  Obviously SOME kind of rumor 
was going around the school about me, and it wasn't a bad one.  
Who knows, it might even be true.  I suddenly realized that I 
owed Lonnie for FAR more than just setting me up with the cute 
little girl next door.
     (Who, [another example of how stupid I am] I hadn't even 
dreamed of asking out, until my big sister practically forced me.  
Right under my nose for years; practically creaming her jeans for 
me; and I don't even see her, while complaining, "I can't get a 
date."  God am I dumb!  My sister was right.  I wondered just how 
many MORE and similar opportunities I had missed.  With Lonnie's 
help, it began to look like I just might find out.  Four dates to 
go.  I couldn't expect EVERY one to be a wet-dream, like the 
first, but just holding-hands in the movies would be a million-
percent improvement over sitting home alone, moping.)

     That night, Suzy got back so late, that she only managed to 
sneak over to our house just before dusk.  Chrissie announced 
loudly, "MARK! your girlfriend's here!" much to my embarrassment.  
Still, I hurried out on the porch, where we barely had time to do 
more than grab a quick kiss, before Suzy had to get back before 
she was missed.


                                24


     "We've just GOT to get together tomorrow," she whispered in 
my ear.
     I agreed, and we broke up; my prick just aching in my pants.
     "Oh . . . I almost forgot to say, 'Thank you,' for what you 
did for me Saturday," she said, as she left.
     "Friday," I almost automatically corrected.
     "No, I mean Saturday," she corrected me back, with a slight 
giggle.
     Oh God!  I remembered what we had been doing just after 
midnight three nights earlier.  "Thank YOU," I said sincerely.  
"That was the best thing that ever happened to me."
     I could almost feel Suzy blush, though in the dark I 
couldn't see.  "As I said, we've just GOT to 'get-together' again 
pretty soon, she replied, before hurrying off before I could 
respond.  God, my prick was leaking cum down my leg, just 
thinking about it.
     "She IS a sexy little thing, isn't she?"  My mother's voice 
almost in my ear, almost made me jump out of my skin.  This time 
it was MY turn to blush.  "Just be sure you don't hurt her," 
Mother admonished me.  "After all, she's just a little girl."
     "MUTHER!" I said, now disgusted instead of embarrassed.  As 
if I would EVER do anything to hurt a child like Suzy . . . or 
anyone else, for that matter.
     Mother didn't apologize.  "I didn't mean physically," she 
explained.  "Girls like that can 'take more than you might 
expect.'"  Oh God, she didn't mean what I thought she did, did 
she?  How much did mother suspect?  I was still trying to figure 
this out, when she continued, "I mean emotionally.  Suzy's got 
quite a crush on you, you know?  The little girl would probably 
do anything for you, and I don't want you taking advantage of her 
generosity, then dropping her later."  Oh.  I thought about it.
     "Mother," I finally said, "I can't say I'll always be able 
to treat Suzy as the most important girl in my life, like she is 
now."  (Mother seemed to brighten at these words.)  "But, I'll 
never just discard her like an old shoe, either.  If Suzy steps 
out of my life, it'll be because SHE feels it's right, not 
because I chased her out.  She may be too young for me to marry, 
but I love her too much for that.  So even if I DO find some 
other girl, or girls, I'm not going to treat Suzy like dirt, just 
to get rid of her.  OK?"
     Mother looked at me almost sadly, for just a moment.  "I 
suppose that's the best I can expect," she replied.  "I know boys 
your age think mostly about sex, and how to get it.  That's why 
you always try to take out the sluttiest girls you can find."  
She sighed, then continued, "Someday you'll find out that sex 
isn't everything, and see what a horrible mistake you made 
passing up the chance of a lifetime."










                                25


     I stared at my mother's retreating back in amazement.  You'd 
almost think my mother wanted me to MARRY the kid.  At least it 
was obvious that she didn't know it wasn't SEX that kept me from 
entertaining the idea.  Not after that wet-dream of a date the 
other night!  No, it was just that Suzy was too . . . too . . . 
too young.  I almost said "immature" but I couldn't bring myself 
to insult Suzy that way, even in my mind.  In some ways, the 
little girl was more "mature" than I was.  Still, MARRY a 
thirteen-year-old?  Her parents would have my balls, at the very 
thought of me even thinking about their little girl like 
that . . . then I remembered her mother's actions earlier.  I 
went to bed that night, thoroughly confused.  I didn't even jack-
off.
     Over the next three days, Suzy and I DID manage to "get-
together" . . . twice.  The first time on Tuesday, we just 
managed a quick blow-job on the back porch, before her parents 
came out.  I didn't even manage to get HER off, as I was just 
reaching in her panties to finger her cute little twat, when we 
were interrupted, by the door opening.  Thankfully, I managed to 
jerk my hand out of her panties, before anyone noticed the 
obscene place it was in.  Suzy turned around and licked a last 
drop of my cum off her lips, before she turned back . . . .
     If anyone had noticed the little girl with my white cum 
drooling down her cheek . . . <Shudder.>
     Wednesday, we just couldn't get together, no matter how hard 
we tried.  All day long, either she was busy, or I was.  Not to 
mention school taking up almost 3/4 of the day.
     Thursday, we got lucky.  My parents had to go to a meeting, 
and Lonnie managed to get Chrissie out of our hair for almost an 
hour.  (Yet ANOTHER thing I owe my big sister for.)  So Suzy and 
I sneaked into my room, and "got it on."
     Yes, we fucked.  We were both too horny after almost a week 
of thinking about what we had done 6 days earlier.  So we got 
undressed, got on the bed, and fucked like bunnies; cumming 
within seconds of my sliding my thick prick up inside her tight 
little hole.  It had been too long, and we were too horny.  
Still, feeling me ejaculate my sperm in her tight little tummy 
was all Suzy needed to get off herself.  She, it seems, was just 
as frustrated sexually, as I was.
     After that, we just lay there enjoying each other's company, 
until I got hard enough to do it again.  This time, not being so 
frantically horny, I managed to bring the little girl to three 
frantic orgasms with her tight little cunny squeezing violently 
on my prick, before I finally lost it, and sent yet another thick 
load of baby-juice splashing against the child's uterus.  Damn, 
that felt good.  I had never even realized before that girls 
could have multiple orgasms; thinking (with typical male-
chauvinism) that girls needed to feel a man squirting inside them 
to have a climax . . . not realizing that most girls never even 
knew when a guy DID climax (if he did) inside her, as they can't 
feel it.  It's only their partners thrusting and excitement they 
feel, and the slick sensation they get afterwards, when his thick 
sperm comes drooling out.




                                26


     Once I knew better, I always tried to see that any girl I 
fucked had at least two or three orgasms to my one.  Maybe that's 
why I've never yet lost a lover.
     Huh?  Yes, I mean just that.  I may not be still fucking all 
the girls I met, but we never "broke up" and I'm certain that any 
or all of them would still "go to bed" with me, as long as both 
their current partner and mine wouldn't be hurt by the exchange.  
And (luckily) not one of them has gotten jealous about the fact 
that she knew I was screwing someone else.  I understand that's 
extremely rare for so many girls.  Many girls are NOT jealous, 
but enough are that I must be unbelievably lucky to have never 
met that type . . . .
     Or, thinking about it, maybe I'm just lucky to have a big 
sister who knows what's best for me . . . as Lonnie had 
introduced me to each of them.  Damn!  That's yet ANOTHER thing I 
owe my sexy big sister.
     After "getting it on the bed" <Giggle> Suzy and I barely had 
time to shower together and get cleaned up, before my little 
sister and Lonnie returned.  I think Chrissie was suspicious 
about what her big brother and the girl-next-door had "been up 
to" but she didn't say anything.  At least, THAT night I went to 
bed satisfied enough that I didn't have to jack-off.
     It was only then, that I remembered I hadn't even thought of 
talking with Suzy about what Mother had suggested.  Oh well, even 
if mother WAS right, then there would be weeks, months, even 
years before I really had to worry about which girl I was going 
to choose for a life-partner.
     Besides, I had heard many times, "You DON'T just pick the 
first girl you have sex with to marry!  Your mind is too 
saturated with emotions, at being grateful for getting your first 
'piece' to think straight.  Get some experience first.  Go out 
and get laid by other girls.  DON'T just jump in, it may be a 
tar-pit."
     Still, being "stuck" with Suzy the rest of my life, didn't 
seem to be such a terrible fate.
     On the other hand, I had at lest four more dates and weeks 
to compare the little girl against.  Perhaps my big sister DID 
know what was best for me.
     Perhaps?  No "perhaps" about it.  My big sister was taking 
VERY good care of me.  Why, I don't know.  Damn, I love 
her . . . .
     Too bad I can't marry my own sister.  Not that she'd 
probably have a jerk as stupid as I am.
     Thoughts like these were getting me nowhere.  I loved Suzy, 
but she was too young.  I loved Lonnie, but she was my sister.  I 
began to wonder if there was a "right" girl in the world for me, 
or did they all have "buts" attached.
     I finally decided that both girls might not be "right" for 
me, but that didn't have to stop me from loving both of them.  
With that momentous decision, I went to sleep.







                                27


                            Chapter 4
                            Date #2.

     Friday (again).  I already had a suspicion of who my big 
sister was setting me up with this time.  But this time Lonnie 
was playing it close, just telling me to pick up my date in front 
of the library at 6:00.  I jittered all day.
     I did manage to see Suzy once, but we only managed a quick 
kiss, which her mother saw.  The beaming smile the older woman 
sent my way afterwards had me blushing for hours.  I wondered 
just how much she knew or suspected about my "relationship" with 
her little girl.  I STILL didn't have time to talk properly to 
Suzy, though she DID clear up one worry; telling me that she 
"didn't mind" my going out on dates with other girls.  She 
actually expected it; knowing that I was an "older boy", I would 
want to have "proper" dates with girls my own age.  She just 
appreciated that I was willing to spend a little of my time with 
a "kid" like her.
     By the time I had to go, I felt guilty about even thinking 
she wasn't "adult" enough for me.  Suzy put things in a better 
perspective, when she pointed out that I would STILL be going out 
with these other girls, even if she WAS the same age as I was.  
Somehow that made me feel better.
     Suzy had been very much the "proper" date.  (Or was that 
"Improper-date"?)  Doing things for and with me, that most older 
girls wouldn't have.  Still, I got into this thing wanting 
girlfriends . . . plural.  And I had promised my sister I would 
go out with whoever she set me up with, NOT just the first one.  
Even if she DID give me the best (and only) fuck of my life.
     Since Suzy didn't seem to mind, even telling me to "enjoy 
myself", I decided I was silly to feel like I was "cheating" on 
her.
     "Now you go out and have a good time," said Suzy, before 
sending me home.
     "Now you go out and have a good time," said Mother, before 
she left.
     "Now you go out and have a good time," said Lonnie, before 
sending me to the library.
     I began to wonder if there was a conspiracy here.  OK . . . 
I'd try to have a "good time" just like I promised.

     Somehow it wasn't all that much of a surprise, when I found 
Betty-Lou Harris sitting on the library steps waiting for me.  I 
had a good chance to look her over from the side, before she 
noticed me coming up.
     Despite the earlier comments, Betty-Lou wasn't all THAT bad 
looking.  In fact, if you ignored her buck teeth, and slightly 
angular face, she might even pass for pretty, in a plump sort of 
way.  Her curves were in all the right places, even if there were 
more of them than you expected.







                                28


     Even her "buck" teeth weren't really all that bad; being in 
fact just a slight overbite, that would easily be corrected by a 
few months of wearing braces.  I wondered why her parents hadn't 
sent her to an orthodontist?  Betty-Lou might actually be 
beautiful, if you liked the "Reubens" type, if she just got her 
teeth fixed, and used a little makeup to make her cheeks not look 
so gaunt.  It was about then, that I did a double-take, as I got 
closer, and from two feet away on one side, noticed something 
that wasn't usually visible from the front.  Betty-Lou WAS using 
makeup!  Only instead of using rouge to make her cheeks look 
blushed and healthy, she had used something dark, to make her 
face look dark and pinched.  It HAD to be deliberate.  I wondered 
why, but decided it would be decidedly unpolitic to ask my date 
why she had decided to "make herself look ugly."  Maybe when (and 
if) we became friends, I could either point out that she'd look 
better without makeup, than what she was using, or perhaps find 
out why she wore it the way she did.  Perhaps, she was trying to 
look thin?  If anything, the gaunt look to her face almost 
emphasized her slightly overweight status.  And her clothes did 
the same thing . . . it's as if the girl didn't WANT to look 
attractive, just a little below normal.
     I put the un-date-like thoughts out of my mind and walked 
closer to where I could almost read her book over her shoulders.  
NOT a book from the library; a paperback of some kind.
     I coughed to get her attention.
     You'd think I had set off a firecracker behind her.  She 
almost jumped three feet, from a sitting position.  The book went 
flying, and so did she.  So did I almost, as a fist went flying 
by my face, and it was only by ducking that I didn't end up on 
the ground with a sore jaw.
     "Sorry," I apologized, "I didn't mean to startle you."
     For a second, Betty-Lou looked at me; recognized who I was, 
and a smile spread over her face.  It was almost like the sun 
came out.  With a smile like that, she was beautiful; buckteeth 
or no buckteeth.  I felt sandbagged.
     If Betty-Lou wore a smile like that in school, she could 
easily win the race for class-president, or whatever popular post 
she wanted.  Once again, I was falling in love.
     Betty-Lou saw me staring at her, and must have realized her 
face had slipped.  A scowl darkened the beauty, and she was once 
again the class dog.  "So what are YOU staring at?" she almost 
snarled.  "If you don't like my face, you can just bug-off.  I 
don't really need this date, you know."
     I felt like a puppy that had been kicked.  I guess it showed 
on my face.
     "Damn!" she said, "Why do I DO that, to the nice guys, and 
drool all over the ones who shit on me?"  The scowl changed to a 
wistful appeal.  "I'm sorry Mark," she apologized, "but you 
startled me.  It's no excuse for biting your head off, but it's 
the only one I've got.  Please?"
     I didn't know what to think.  Still, it wouldn't be fair to 
NOT let her apologize.





                                29


     "I'm Mark," I said; deciding that maybe she wasn't so bad 
after all.  "I'm supposed to be your date for tonight.  Of 
course, if you don't want to . . . ."
     This time Betty-Lou DID let the "face" slip . . . 
deliberately, I could tell.  "I'm Betty," she said, "as you well 
know.  The class dog, and now the class bitch."
     I started to object, but she cut me off.  "I know what I 
am," she said.  "I'm NOT beautiful and just now I almost cut your 
head off for just looking at me.  If that's not being a bitch, 
what is?"
     I felt the accusation was still a bit unfair.  "I don't 
think you're a dog," I said.
     This time, Betty-Lou giggled.  It looked good on her, as her 
face now had a smile back on it.  "But you have to agree that I 
WAS a bitch," she pointed out.  "And what's a bitch, but a female 
dog?"
     It seemed that I had fallen into a trap of some kind, where 
I was damned if I answered, and damned if I didn't.  I tried 
smiling dutifully.
     "Well, you ARE a nice guy, just like they said you were, 
aren't you?" she decided.  "This time, let me apologize properly.  
I was testing you."
     "Huh?" I said.
     She grinned at me.  This time it was a warm friendly grin.
     "I try to look like the class dog," she explained, "because 
it's easier to separate out the nice guys from the ones who just 
want to get in your pants."
     "Oh," I said, to keep up my end of the conversation.
     "A moment ago you caught me without me being prepared, and I 
could tell you thought I was beautiful," she continued.  "I'm 
not, but it's hard to chase off the bastard-types, if they think 
you look sexy, so I tried acting like an SOB myself, to see if 
you'd at least be polite . . . you were.  Thanks."
     "This is all an act?" I asked.  "The constant frowns, the 
dark makeup, the frumpy clothes? the whole bit?"
     "Oh, you caught that too?" she twinkled.  "Not only a nice 
guy, but smart, too.  Yes, it's mostly an act.  I'm not very good 
looking to begin with, and the buckteeth help; but mostly it's 
the way I act, dress, and yes you caught me, use makeup."
     "I think you're beautiful," I said, and meant it.
     "Thanks, Mark," she said, and laughed.  "But don't tell 
anybody, or I'll have to cut you off."  For a moment she looked 
so fierce, I wondered if she meant my head.
     "I won't tell," I promised.
     "Good," she said, "Only try to stop LOOKING at me, as if I 
were some kind of goddess, OK.  I'm not.  Now if you want someone 
beautiful, look at Marsha Swiggins.  Now THERE is a girl who's 
beautiful."
     "Yeah," I said, "and cold as ice.  I'd rather have a real 
girl like you, than the 'Ice-Queen' any day of the week."
     "You never can tell," said Betty-Lou, enigmatically.  "In 
the meantime, what are we doing tonight?  You ARE supposed to be 
taking me on a date, you know."




                                30


     "Anything you like," I responded.  "I've got enough money to 
take you to the Movies, to the drive in, to dinner, or any place 
you like.  How about right here, at the library, for starters?"
     "Huh?"  This time it was Betty-Lou's turn to look 
sandbagged.
     "You like books," I pointed out; picking up the slightly 
abused paperback from the ground and dusting it off.  "So do I."  
I handed her the soft-cover and waited for her reply.  Hmmm . . . 
dragons on the cover?
     Betty-Lou took the book, and then followed my gaze to the 
title:  "DragonSong"
     "I'm sorry," she said again, "but I was reading about this 
girl who was running to outrace . . ."
     ". . . Thread," I supplied, curious to see her reaction.
     "You've READ it?" she asked, astonished.  "I thought only 
girls liked books like this."
     "One of my favorite authors," I affirmed.  For ONCE, being a 
bookworm was actually being a help getting a girl interested in 
me, instead of a hindrance.
     "In fact," I said; watching closely to see her reaction, "I 
have four copies of that book alone . . . she's one of my 
favorite authors."
     "FOUR copies," she breathed, incredulous.  "Why four?"
     "One I've almost worn out re-reading," I enumerated, "One to 
replace that one, and TWO autographed copies that I got at two 
different stores when she came to town last year.  She makes 
these tours about every five years or so, to promote her books."
     "TWO autographed copies," she breathed; unable to 
contemplate such wealth.  "I couldn't talk you out of one of 
them, could I?" she asked almost wistfully.  I knew she didn't 
really expect an affirmative reply.
     I thought about it.  What did I really need TWO autographed 
copies for, except for purposes like this?  They hadn't cost me 
any more than the regular price, plus standing in line for two 
hours for each one.
     "You could for a price," I decided; giving her a grin.
     "Would a blow-job do?" she grinned right back.  "Ask anyone 
who knows, Betty-Lou Harris gives the best blow-jobs in town."
     "That was NOT quite the deal I had in mind," I said, with 
disappointment.
     Betty looked at me, her eyes going as cold as mine.  "OK," 
she decided, "A fuck AND a blow-job, and when it's over you get 
lost.  When I finish, the date is over.  A date like you, I can 
do without."
     "How about I just GIVE you the book, and we call the date 
off right now," I said with disgust.  "A mercy-fuck, I don't 
need.  You can have the book, just don't tell anybody I gave it 
to you, OK?  Then YOU can get lost."
     "I'll be right back," I added, starting back towards my 
house.  Shit.  I couldn't believe it.  A beautiful (Yes, I still 
thought she was beautiful, buckteeth and all.) girl offers to 
fuck me for less effective cost than going out on a date would 
be, and I not only turn her down cold, I throw the price of the 
fuck in her face.  Talk about having a bad taste in your mouth!



                                31


     "Mark?"  A soft voice from behind me called out.  I kept 
walking.  I'd get the bitch her damned book, and then go home to 
cry.  Lonnie was going to have to do a LOT to make THIS night 
turn out to be a "good time."
     "PLEASE, Mark," The voice was almost crying.  I almost kept 
walking anyway.  Still, just because SHE was an SOB, didn't mean 
I had to be.  "What?" I sighed, turning around and almost running 
into her.  Betty-Lou was right behind me, and she WAS crying.  
Now I felt like a heel.
     "PLEASE let me explain," she sobbed.  "You're the nicest guy 
I ever met, and three times I've shit all over you.  I KNOW it 
isn't fair, but could you please let me explain?  Please?  I 
don't want your damned book!  No, I mean I DO want it, 
but . . . . 
     Oh shit!" and she sat down and literally bawled.
     Well, some people enjoy pulling wings off butterflies, but I 
don't.  I sighed; sat down beside her, and (greatly daring) put 
my arm around her.
     She turned into me, and for a few minutes wet the shoulder 
of my shirt.  "I don't know WHY I always do this," she sniffled.  
"It seems I take shit from all the bastards, and just smile.  
Then when I meet a nice guy I turn around and treat him like the 
dirt that treated me rotten last time."  She wiped her eyes on my 
sleeve, and continued.  "I get lots of guys who go out with me, 
just to get laid," she explained.  At my raised eyebrows, she 
continued, "You mean you DIDN'T know I'm called 'round-heels-
Betty'?"
     I just looked at her, and she started crying again.  "No," 
she decided, "you didn't.  But your sister did.  She even 
explained to me that was one reason she wanted me to go out with 
you tonight, so you could 'get a little experience.'  Your 
sister's nice, and I owe her a favor or two.  Besides, you 
sounded cute, and I get laid all the time by macho jocks and a 
few nice-guys trying to get access to the 'Ice-Queen'.  A roll in 
the sack with a bookworm nerd, might be fun for a change, or so I 
thought."
     For a moment, I was almost angry at Lonnie, but then 
realized she was just 'doing her thing'; trying to get me the 
experience she figured I needed.  She never intended that either 
Betty-Lou OR I would get hurt.  If not for the indiscreet cough, 
and the book incident, we would have both had fun, and I probably 
would have gotten laid by a real expert.  No, my big sister 
wasn't to blame.
     "Anyway," Betty-Lou continued, "as I said, most boys go out 
with me just to get laid, and I don't really mind; 'cause I'm 
just as horny as they are.  They don't call me 'round-heels' for 
nothing.  Just touch me, and I roll over."










                                32


     Here, the girl giggled, but it was more of a sob than mirth.  
"So when you said you would give me that book, 'for a price' I 
thought you were like all the rest of the SOBs, and here I had 
thought you were nice.  So I decided, 'What the heck?  He ain't 
all that bad looking, and I was planning on fucking him anyway.  
But if that's all he wants, why go through the farce of going on 
a date?'  So for the third time tonight, I not only put my foot 
in my mouth, I practically choked to death on it.  PLEASE let me 
start over.  I don't really want the book now.  Please?"
     Betty-Lou looked up at me; and then tears started running 
down her cheeks again.
     "You never DID ask me what my price was," I said gently.  
"It's still the same."
     "Huh," she asked, "what DID you want from me?"
     For a second, the old calculating look returned to her face, 
then vanished into more tears.
     "It'll be a little bit harder for you to pay me, right now," 
I observed; tilting her face up so I could see it.  "You see, all 
I wanted from you was a smile."
     "A smile?" incredulous; not believing.
     "Uhuh, a smile.  When I first walked up to you, you 
accidentally let your mask slip, and gave me a smile like the sun 
coming out.  I wanted to see it again.  So, I thought that if I 
just teased you by 'charging' you a smile for the book you seemed 
to want, but that hadn't cost me much, (Only two hours of waiting 
in line in the hot sun, but I didn't tell HER that.) I thought I 
might get a REAL smile from you by accident-on-purpose.  It seems 
I was wrong.  You can have the book.  You can smile or not, as 
you please.  Maybe some other week, we can go out on a REAL date, 
where you don't feel pressured to 'put-out' just because my 
sister thinks I 'need it.'  I don't.  I'm sorry you felt like I 
was trying to pressure you into something; even if you wanted it.  
OK?"
     I got up; almost creaking in the effort, and started back 
home, which was only a few blocks away.  "I'll be right back," I 
said.  "PLEASE don't go away, as I really DO want you to have it.  
As I said, she's one of my favorite authors, and it would be a 
pleasure to give it to someone who likes her half as much as I 
do.  Especially a pretty girl."
     I'm not sure Betty-Lou even heard me.
     "A smile," she mumbled to herself.  "A Goddamned SMILE, and 
I treat him like slime you find on your shoe, after walking 
through the barnyard."
     She looked up at me, where I was walking away, and yelled at 
me.  "Hey YOU!" she yelled, "You are NOT getting away that easy!  
It's damned rare I get a date with even a nice guy.  You are NOT 
cheating me out of this one."
     Here, the girl caught up to me; hooked her arm through mine, 
as if she was my steady girlfriend, and smiled at me.  It was 
forced; tears still streaked her face, but it WAS a smile.  
"Paid-for," I said.
     The smirk I got in return, was more like the real thing.
     "Let's forget about the book for now," she pleaded.  "We can 
pick it up when we get back to your house later . . . I've got 
PLANS for you, Big Boy.  OK?"


                                33


     "Uh?" I said, suddenly leery, "Plans?"  For a second, Betty-
Lou had looked like the vampire in "Dracula" who had "plans" for 
the innocent girl.
     "Uhuh," she said, not daunted a bit.  "FIRST, I'm going to 
show you off, while we get something to eat.  THEN, we'll really 
get rolling . . . your sister told you you'd have a 'good time' 
on this date, didn't she?"
     I nodded carefully; not sure how much of my sister's 
"guarantee" that Betty-Lou knew about, or even SHOULD know about.
     "Well Honey," she said, "you ain't NEVER had a 'good time' 
'til you've been on a date with Betty-Lou Harris!"
     Before I could object, (not that I wanted to) we were in the 
Burger-Mill, in the same booth I had occupied the previous 
Friday.  Even the same waitress.
     "A little older tonight," I see, said Carol, cattily, her 
green eyes taking in Betty-Lou's lush body, in comparison to the 
little girl I had been squiring the previous week.
     "Oh can it, Carol," said Betty-Lou.  "He's OK . . . I mean 
REALLY OK."   Here the plainer girl gave the waitress a wink.
     "Hmmm," said the waitress; giving me an even more interested 
look than she had given me the previous week.  "Maybe I HAD 
better talk to his sister."
     "Maybe you should," commented Betty-Lou.
     I wondered just what was going on, and who was setting who 
up for a date?  I didn't get any answers that night though . . . 
at least, not about that.
     After finishing off about 2/3 of a pizza, Betty and I 
returned to my house to pick up the autographed copy of Anne 
McCaffrey's "DragonSong".  Only we never made it out of the 
bedroom where I had it stashed.
     "I told you that everyone who goes out with Betty-Lou Harris 
has a good time," she told me, while starting to take off my 
shirt while I was still sorting through my special box of 
autographed books.  "And YOU tiger, are going to have the best!"  
Well, I guess I did.  THIS time though, I remembered to ask about 
birth-control first.
     "It's OK," she reassured me, "though I would have been 
disappointed, if you hadn't asked."
     "Then you're on the pill?"
     "Nope."  <Giggle.>  "Diaphragm.  I'm allergic to the pill.  
Still, it's almost as good."
     After that, once I got up enough nerve to kiss her, the rest 
of the night was like a continuous wet-dream.  Little Suzy has a 
LONG way to go, as a lover . . . .
     Much as I like the feel of her tight little slit squeezing 
the sperm out of my swollen prick; a tight cunny isn't 
everything.
     Betty-Lou STARTED by sucking my cock; and worked up from 
there.  She made love to me.  Mostly the sex I had with Suzy had 
just been fucking.  I learned quickly that while sticking your 
prick in a girl's tight little hole, and squirting it full of 
thick sticky cum is fun; it's only ONE aspect of the many facets 
of having sex.  Betty-Lou knew ways I'm STILL trying to learn,




                                34


     First, as I said, she sucked my cock.  Only that's almost an 
insult to her talents.  For over 20 minutes, B-L would lick the 
head, down the side, and sometimes tease me by taking the head 
inside her mouth.  Then, she would play with it a little, until 
my urge to spurt her mouth full of thick white goo subsided, and 
she started all over again.  When finally I warned her, "Oh God, 
Betty, I'm gonna . . . ;" she stopped and moved up my body.
     "THIS one," she said; panting hotly in my ear, "I'm going to 
get inside me.  Next time, you can squirt it right down my 
throat."
     Oh shit.  Hearing those words, coupled with a tight ring 
sliding down my engorged prick, while the sensual feel of a 
female body squirming in front of me almost blew my mind, was too 
much.  Betty-Lou had barely managed to get my prick all the way 
inside her, before I was filling her sucking young womb with 
squirt after thick sticky squirt of thick white goo.  Only in 
this, as in so many other things having to do with sex, Betty-Lou 
had almost perfect timing.  I WAS fully bottomed out inside her, 
when the urge got to be too much, and I felt the (by now) 
familiar pulsations in the head of my prick that told me I was 
ejaculating my seed in this incredibly young woman's body.
     I'm not sure if she got off that time, but the tight 
squeezing of her cunny sure FELT like she did.  Still, she 
probably just had lots of practice at making a man feel good.  
And oh could she EVER do that.  (As I found out when she kept her 
promise about swallowing my cum, the second time.  She DID have 
me cum down her throat; having me fuck it just like a cunt.  I 
could hardly believe that she'd want to, but B-L managed to 
convince me.)  THEN, she fucked me AGAIN!  This time took a LOT 
longer, and Betty-Lou must have cum over 6 or 7 times, before I 
managed to get up enough energy to ejaculate yet another thick 
white helping of baby-juice in her sexy belly.
     Three hours later we were lying in bed exhausted; sperm 
dribbling from every orifice of hers, while we tried to muster up 
energy for a fifth go-round.  The girl had taught me things about 
lovemaking, that I didn't even know were there to be learned.  
French-kissing for example.  Not to mention methods of 
cunnilingus and fellatio that were astounding.
     Here I thought a girl was just supposed to suck a cock, and 
a guy was just supposed to stick his tongue in a girl's slit, and 
they both had fun that way.  According to Betty-Lou, "That's just 
for amateurs!"  And then, she proceeded to prove it.
     Damn!  Once again, my big sister had picked just the right 
girl to tutor me in the parts of sex I needed most to learn.  One 
MORE thing I owe her.
     "How did you ever learn so much about sex?" I asked, while 
we lay there in bed; just enjoying the feel of naked-skin 
touching naked-skin, while we tried to get up enough energy for 
yet one more try.
     "Hmmmm," she teased; taking one of my nipples between her 
teeth.  "You mean besides having at least three different guys in 
my bed every week for the past 5 years?"
     I shivered at the thought that this sexy broad had been 
enjoying sex since she was barely into puberty, while I waited 
miserably until I was 16.


                                35


     "Or," she continued, "is it besides the fact that I've read 
the Kama Sutra and tried almost 3/4 of the positions that don't 
require special equipment?"
     Oh God.  The mind just boggles.  I had just LOOKED at my 
father's copy.
     "OR," she continued, teasing the other nipple now, "is it 
the fact that I started fucking my own father when I was six?"
     "That must be it," she decided, looking at my suddenly re-
erect penis.  "So what do you want to know about me and Daddy?"
     I couldn't believe she would even tell me this.  Still, I 
just HAD to hear more.  "Tell me about your father," I croaked, 
just like the old "Eliza" program.
     "Mmmm," she purred.  "Me and Daddy go back a long way.  When 
I was a kid, I used to sleep between Him and Momma, until I got 
too big . . . I think it was when I was about three.  Momma tried 
to get me to sleep in my own bed, but being a spoiled little 
brat, I kept sneaking out of my crib, and down into their bed, 
where I always slid in beside Daddy.  He didn't squirm like Momma 
did; actually wrapping his arms around me, and snuggling up.  
This continued until I was 6, or thereabouts.  By that time, I 
had watched Momma and Daddy 'making love' many times, as they 
just couldn't hide it from me.  Since I didn't seem to be 
bothered by it, after a while, neither did they.  I knew Daddy's 
big 'thing' went up in Momma's hole to make a baby; as I had 
watched the whole process take place at least twice by that time.
     I knew Daddy had erections, and got 'horny' until he 'got 
off' by squirting his sperm in Momma.  Sometimes Momma didn't 
feel like fucking, but usually she would do it for Daddy, even if 
she didn't.  Momma loved Daddy, just like I did.
     So, one night I was lying there next to Daddy, and his thing 
got big between my legs.  It probably had happened many times 
before; only this was the first time I really noticed it.  I knew 
what it meant though . . . Daddy wanted to put his thing up 
inside Momma, so he could squirt his stuff in her.  Only Momma 
was asleep.  So, I did what seemed to be the most natural thing 
in the world.  I let Daddy fuck me.
     Uhuh.  Daddy was 3/4 asleep himself, but horny as an old 
goat, so I decided it was up to me to take Daddy's stuff inside 
me, since Momma was asleep.  I carefully slid my panties down, 
and pushed Daddy's thing up against my hole.  Of course, it 
wouldn't go in."
     Here Betty-Lou and I were lying side-by-side, as she 
"demonstrated" to me how she had tried to take her father's prick 
inside her, at the tender age of only 6 years old.
     "Only I knew what to do about that, too," she continued.  
"By that time, Daddy's erection had gotten REALLY stiff, and 
clear stuff was leaking out the tip.  I knew what this stuff was 
for, after watching my parents, so I spread it all over Daddy's 
prick (bringing a groan from him) and then slid it up inside me.  
Uhuh, I fucked my own father.  Or Daddy fucked me . . . 
whichever.






                                36


     At first, it STILL wouldn't go all the way in, but a sudden 
shove from Daddy took care of that.  What's that?  No, it didn't 
hurt.  I don't know if I had a hymen, and Daddy 'busted my 
cherry' that night, and I just didn't feel it, or I was one of 
those lucky girls who just don't have one.  Anyway . . . three 
strokes after sliding inside me for the first time, Daddy lost 
it; squirting great gobs of sticky white stuff up inside me, 
while moaning "Oh, Betty," in my ear, over and over again; 
showing that Daddy knew it was ME he was fucking, not Momma.  I 
was so happy!  Now I could love Daddy just like Momma did.  Well, 
you know it didn't stop.  Two nights later, I woke up to feel 
Daddy's thick thing sliding between my legs, as he lifted my leg 
to get inside me.  I didn't object.  Heck, I was GLAD Daddy 
wanted to "use me" to jack off into.  This continued for about a 
week, until Momma caught on.  Either Daddy would get an erection, 
and I would slip his big 'thing' up inside me, or I would wake up 
to feeling his thick prick forcing it's way into my body.  In 
either case, Daddy would push at me, and I would push back at 
Daddy, until he squirted his stuff inside me.  Then he would pull 
out and go to sleep.  Only as I said, Momma caught us.  I never 
even thought that Momma would mind me helping Daddy out, 
especially as she was sleeping at the time.  As for Daddy, his 
goose was cooked . . . at least, for a while.
     I don't know if it was the 6th or 7th time Daddy fucked me, 
when Momma woke up to the jiggling of the bed.  I guess she was 
used to this, as Daddy used to jack-off in the middle of the 
night, quite often before he started using me to get off in.  
Momma felt generous that night, so she reached around Daddy to 
help him jack-off, and felt my pussy squeezing Daddy's prick, 
instead of just his hand.  Whoooeee!"
     I'll say "Whooee! too.  B-L's story had finally gotten to be 
too much for me, and I erupted inside her tight little hole, just 
like her father had, so many years before.  Betty kissed me, said 
"Thanks Mark; that feels almost as good as Daddy's did," before 
continuing with her story with my now half-hard prick keeping my 
sticky sperm from leaking out of her tight little hole.
     "I bet I know something that will get you hard again," she 
commented, as my prick finally started to wilt.  "That way, you 
can keep fucking me, while I tell you the rest."
     I didn't think ANYTHING could get my prick up, after 
squirting in her like that; but I knew better than to put this 
incredible woman to the test.  Betty-Lou Harris could give a 
statue a hard-on, if she tried.  "What's that?" I asked.
     "You seem to be extra turned-on by the thought of my own 
daddy ejaculating his sperm in me, while there was a chance of 
him getting me pregnant," she replied.  "It's only been about a 
week since my last period; so I should be pretty safe now . . . 
on the other hand, maybe not.  How would you like to take a 
chance?"
     With this, Betty-Lou practically blew my mind away, as she 
reached down between her legs and fumbled around for a minute 
before extracting a pink rubber ring from inside her body.





                                37


     "See," she said, holding it up for me to see.  White streaks 
and a thick liquid oozing from one edge, just emphasized the fact 
that she had just removed the barrier between my seed and her 
possibly fertile young womb.  "That's the stuff that makes 
babies, that you just squirted in me," she continued, matter-of-
factly.  "How would you like to take a chance, and do it again; 
this time without anything between your squirting prick and my 
horny womb?"
     Betty-Lou was right.  She COULD give me a hard-on again.  My 
prick was aching again, at the very thought.  This time, when my 
prick slid into her on the lubrication of the sperm I had already 
ejaculated inside her, and that was probably already wriggling 
its way up inside her womb, we both sighed in satisfaction.  
Well, if Betty wasn't worried about getting pregnant, then why 
should I be?  Once she had me comfortably inside her, with my 
prick already leaking pre-cum inside her womb, Betty-Lou 
continued with her story.
     "Surprisingly," she said, "Momma didn't yell or anything.  
In fact, she waited until Daddy squirted every drop he had inside 
me, and I had snuggled down to sleep afterwards, before bracing 
Daddy.  'YOU,' she said firmly, 'are coming with ME.'  I guess 
Momma didn't want me sexually traumatized  by her yelling and 
screaming, and yanking Daddy's thick cock out of me, when I 
seemed to be enjoying it just as much as Daddy did.  That part 
was hard for Momma to understand.  For the next three days, Daddy 
slept in 'my' bedroom, while Momma 'protected me' from her 
pedophile husband.  Only I didn't WANT to be protected.  It was 
only on the third time that Momma caught me trying to sneak down 
to 'my' bedroom to 'comfort' Daddy with my tight little hole, 
since Momma obviously wasn't, that Momma gave into the 
inevitable.  At first, Momma was still mad at Daddy; jealous or 
something.  But eventually her anger subsided when she saw how 
much we loved each other; and the sight of her little girl 
getting fucked eventually got to her horny side too.
     Before a month was out, Daddy would go from fucking me, to 
fucking Momma, and then back inside me again, without hardly 
missing a stroke.  My second brother Larry got made during the 
four years between the first time I fucked and the time I had my 
first period."  I think that I got more sperm shot up my hot 
little hole in that time, than Momma did.  After a while, Momma 
seemed to lose all her inhibitions against incest, and actually 
started encouraging Daddy to not only fuck me, but she made sure 
he ejaculated as much of his potent sperm in my sucking little 
slit as it could hold.
     I sure didn't mind.  Mind?  Heck, I LIKED the feel of Daddy 
'getting off' inside me, with his thick prick squirting hot 
sticky gobs of sperm right up inside my uterus where it belonged.  
Once Momma got over her hangups, quite often SHE would be the one 
to start things by first 'jacking off' Daddy in me, and then 
later being the one to actually put my father's thick prick up 
against me, and help him work it into my body.  After a year, I 
was almost addicted to feeling my father's thick prick sliding in 
and out of me, and found it hard to sleep, if I didn't have his 
slippery cum dribbling out of my vagina, after he squirted inside 
me.


                                38


     The best part though, was when Daddy would be on top of me, 
grunting and groaning as he tried to cum, while Momma actually 
encouraged him to ejaculate his sperm in her little girl.
     By now Betty-Lou and I were fucking again.  Only this time 
it was just a fun leisurely screw with no cares on either of our 
parts on when or if either or both of us "got off" or not.  It 
was fun, just being joined sexually together like that."
     "Was that it?" I asked.  "Did any of your brothers or 
sisters get involved?"
     Betty-Lou grinned.  "Not like I did," she said.  "Oh, the 
rest of the family knew all about me and Daddy; but none of them 
ever got as 'hung up" on incest as I did.  Not that they were 
turned off by it either."
     I raised my eyebrows; encouraging her to continue, while I 
continued with MY job of sliding my prick in and out of her hot 
little hole; keeping both of us happy.  "So tell me about it," I 
prompted, "what DID happen?"
     "Not much really," she said, "beside Momma having Daddy fuck 
each of my little sisters as a 'birthday present' on her 10th 
birthday, so she could feel what it was like for a man to fuck 
her and cum inside her without 'protection', while she could 
still enjoy it without having to worry.  Neither one minded 
fucking Daddy; or was even all that surprised at our mother 
having her husband "teach" them about sex; with his thick prick 
squirting hot cum in their tight little bellies.  After all, they 
had all watched ME getting fucked by Daddy often enough.  Having 
our father fuck each of them with his bare prick squirting 
incestuous seed in their wombs, while Mother actually encouraged 
Daddy to TRY to get each of them pregnant, just like she had me, 
was quite exciting to them.
     None of them got hung up on it either though, like I did.  
Oh, every once in a while one or the others of my little sisters 
would have Daddy slip into her bed, where he'd spend the night 
filling her tight little tummy with his sperm, and a couple of 
times I caught my big brother and one of them 'making out' by 
fucking in one of their bedrooms, when a date went sour.  But it 
never developed into a big family orgy either.  They all seemed 
to think it as OK to fuck someone in your own family, but none of 
them was as enthused about the idea as I was.  Fucking a relative 
just didn't seem to turn them on, like it did me.  Even I 
eventually got over my crush on Daddy, but that was afterwards.
     I interrupted her.  "Afterwards?" I asked.  "You mean that's 
not all?"
     B-L giggled.  "You ain't heard nothin' yet pardner.  Wait 
until you hear about the first time Daddy got me pregnant!"
     The "first" time?  I almost choked!
     "Afterwards," started Betty-Lou a second time, "things went 
smoothly, with Momma's pregnancy causing less trouble than usual, 
since I was there to take care of Daddy, when he needed sex.  
After a while, Momma seemed to be as proud of seeing me take 
Daddy's thick cock up inside me, as she was happy to feel it 
spreading her own horny slit.  As for me, I got so used to Daddy 
sliding his prick up inside me, and squirting my hot little hole 
full of sperm, that I almost couldn't sleep without feeling my 
father's seed squishing inside me.


                                39


     Sometimes I'd go to sleep with Daddy's thick cock inside me, 
and not wake up even when he squirted baby-juice inside me three 
or four times!  It just soothed me to sleep, knowing my own 
father was squirting the thick white stuff that made babies 
inside me, where it belonged.
     Even with Momma's pregnancy with Larry, not one of us gave a 
thought about the chance of ME getting pregnant.  I mean, even I 
knew the stuff Daddy was squirting inside me, was the stuff that 
made babies in little girls, but we all knew I was too young and 
never even thought about it happening to me.
     Or at least, neither Daddy nor I did . . . Momma, I'm not so 
sure about.  Sometimes I wonder if she didn't say anything, 
because she WANTED me to get pregnant, (as long as I didn't 
complain or object) as a kind of pay-back for preempting her 
husband.  Or, maybe she just felt that if I could fuck her 
husband, then I could take my chances on having his babies, just 
like she did.  Whatever.
     Anyway, I had my first period when I was 10; my second three 
months later, and the third I didn't have until almost a year 
after that; as by that time I was pregnant with my little sister 
Carol.  Momma never said a word through the whole pregnancy about 
how we could have been using birth-control.  It was only 
AFTERWARDS, when I was going to start fucking Daddy again, that 
she told me; and then only as a warning.
     Actually Momma gave me a choice.  ONE baby by my father, she 
would allow me, and would raise it as one of her own children.  
TWO babies were too expensive."
     "So what did you do?" I asked; sliding in and out a little.  
My erection was getting harder again, and Betty-Lou groaned in 
appreciation.  "Oooh," she said, "that's nice.  Well, Momma gave 
me a choice."
     I raised my eyebrows, so she continued.  "You see these 
teeth," she asked; not bothering to wait for an answer.  "Well, 
so did Momma and Daddy.  It seems they had been putting away 
money for me, ever since I was 5, to have this corrected, once 
they knew it was going to happen, just like it happened with 
Grandma, and most of my aunts, and one of my uncles.  I could use 
the money to have my teeth fixed, when I was 13, or I could have 
another baby at the same time.  With the teeth, I would be 
handsome and well-liked at school.  With still another child to 
support, things would get a little tight around the house, and I 
would spend most of my free time babysitting.
     For me, it wasn't a choice.  I was pregnant with Daddy's 
baby for the second time, six months after delivering the first 
one.  I had my second little sister by Daddy, barely a month 
after I turned 13.  Only this time, Momma had the whole family 
watch, the first time Daddy actually TRIED to get me pregnant.  
This was back before either of my little sisters had gotten 
fucked yet, and while they knew about Daddy fucking me, they had 
never actually watched the whole thing from start to finish 
before.  That night I lay on the floor in the living-room, in 
front of the whole family, and actually asked my father to fuck 
me, to cum in me, to squirt his sperm inside me, and to get me 
pregnant with his baby.  Daddy did.



                                40


     Feeling Daddy breeding me, with the whole family knowing he 
was not only cumming inside me, but actually TRYING to get me 
pregnant was a thrill like I never had before.  I was cumming so 
hard myself, that I actually left teeth-marks in Daddy's shoulder 
when I bit him in my orgasm.  Daddy must have liked it almost as 
much as I did, because it felt like he left about three gallons 
of squishing in my vagina that night.  I must have dribbled cum 
for over two hours afterwards.
     I think that was the day that Momma decided that each of her 
girls should get to feel her father ejaculating his sperm inside 
her vagina at least once, before she got old enough to go out on 
dates of her own . . . so she wouldn't fall for the first guy who 
got in her panties.  So, when each of my little sisters turned 10 
years old, for three days Momma had Daddy sleep with her, so that 
each of my sisters got to know what it was like to have a man not 
only screw her, but actually TRY to get her pregnant; with his 
thick white sperm soaking into her unprotected womb where it 
belonged.  That way my sisters all got to enjoy several orgasms 
with a real man making love to them, with no artificial barriers 
getting in the way.  After those first times though, Momma had 
Daddy show each of them what condoms were, and how to use them.  
She didn't want her girls getting pregnant when they didn't want 
to (unlike me).  As I said, Momma didn't want any of her 
daughters having to marry the first man who got her panties down, 
just because she didn't know anything about sex,
     Me, I already knew, and HAD fallen for him.  It wasn't until 
after I finally started dating that I realized the validity of 
Mother's idea.  But by then I had already enjoyed feeling my own 
father fucking me for almost 6 years, and carrying his babies 
twice.  Incest may not be for everybody; but I sure enjoyed it."
     I couldn't help it.  I blew yet another load of MY thick 
seed in the sexy girl's sucking young womb; imagining how tight 
she must have been to her father at only six.  Even now, she 
could squeeze my prick so hard it felt like it could be cut off, 
when she had a climax.  I wanted her to have LOTS of climaxes 
with my prick inside her hot little hole.
     "So, what happened after that?" I asked, as I caught my 
breath after that final orgasm.  I knew no matter HOW I felt, I 
was done sexually for the night.  Not that Betty-Lou seemed to be 
disappointed; having gotten off about two times to my one, every 
time but this last one.
     "Not much," she said, "Momma put me on the pill after that, 
and turned me loose on the boys.  When I started showing up with 
hives, and they determined I was allergic to the pill, Momma had 
me fitted with a diaphragm.












                                41


     Daddy's getting older now, and can't get it up as often; 
while I'm just getting into my prime.  Because I don't get out 
often, being busy taking care of the kids all the time, Momma and 
Daddy are both careful to NOT interfere on the nights I DO go 
out.  Especially Fridays and Saturdays.  THEY babysit the kids 
for me, two nights a week, while I babysit for THEM, the rest of 
the week.  That's why I'm such a bookworm.  Besides that, I have 
this 'arrangement' with Marsha, where we help each other out, 
when it comes to finding decent men to fuck.  Now you know my 
life-story, and why I don't have to come home 'til dawn, if I 
don't want to."
     THIS, I felt was a hint.  I let out a groan.  "But I have 
two parents who won't be pleased to find their son fucking the 
neighborhood-slut in their house, no matter HOW nice a girl she 
is otherwise."
     For a second, I was aghast at my temerity; calling Betty-Lou 
a "slut."  I guess, after that story, (not to mention having 
screwed me over 6 times in the past two hours) B-L felt I was a 
"close-enough-personal-friend" to use terms like that to describe 
her, in a friendly fashion.  She giggled.
     It was like this, the bed in a mess, our clothes all over 
the room, smelling like a whorehouse, with both of us covered 
with drying sperm and other even more unmentionable liquids and 
semi-solids, that My big sister Lonnie found us.  She took in the 
room with one glance.
     "Well, Little Brother," she asked, with a twinkle in her 
eyes, "did you have fun?"
     From the evidence on the bed, she had to ask?
     "No," I said, shocking her.  "I didn't."  Even Betty-Lou 
looked at me with dismay.
     I let them both stew for a minute.  After all, they had BOTH 
caused me a little grief that night.  Then I finished the 
statement.  "WE had fun." I said, firmly.
     I got a barrage of richly deserved pillows.
     For the next five minutes we fought gloriously, until two of 
the pillows burst, and we lay gasping in a tangle of feathers, 
sperm, girl-cum, and just plain mess.  Talk about fun!  It was 
WORTH the hour it took to clean up, before our parents got home.
     It was after we finished making up the bed together that 
Lonnie first noticed the pink cup lying somewhat forlornly in a 
puddle on the dresser.  She picked it up between two fingers, 
with kind of a questioning smirk on her face.
     "Oh that," said Betty-Lou; taking it from my big sister and 
spreading her legs on the edge of the bed; to re-insert it inside 
her vagina.  "Mike and I decided to try and see if he was lucky."
     I blushed red as a beet; while Lonnie's grin grew even 
wider.  The thought of Betty-Lou with my sperm still inside her 
vagina, working its way up inside her (possibly) fertile young 
womb, was almost enough to give me still another hard-on.  
Almost.  The sexy slut had completely drained me.  (And NO, I am 
NOT insulting Betty-Lou . . . she knows she's a sexy slut, and 
glories in it.)





                                42


     It was only after walking Betty-Lou home, walking hand in 
hand together in moonlight, discussing books, dragons and other 
such non-important things, then walking home as if in a dream, 
that I found out she had walked all the way home in a micro-mini, 
with no panties.  They were left in sodden glory in the middle of 
my bedspread, where either of my parents couldn't have missed 
them if they tried, if they had looked in.
     I mean, sopping-wet scarlet red panties in a heart-shape in 
the middle of a BLUE bedspread?
     She'd obviously left them for me, as a present.
     You've got to admire a girl like that . . . she's got guts.
     Not much sense, but lots of guts . . . walking home in a 
mini-skirt, with no panties?  If I'd only known!  On the other 
hand, it seems that she wanted me to find out AFTERWARDS, not 
then.  It was her own sexy little secret, to get her juices 
flowing for when she climbed into bed with her father.
     I loved that girl.  No, I didn't want to marry her, but I 
truly did love her.  Still, I guess she has lots of boys who love 
her, as she couldn't fit me into her schedule again, until at 
least two weeks AFTER mine was clear.
     We made a date, at HER house this time, for six weeks later.  
I could hardly wait.  On the other hand, I still had 4 more 
surprises from Lonnie.  I knew nothing would top this, though.  
Six times in one night?  Or was it seven?
     "Thanks Sis," I yelled into Lonnie's room, when I got back.  
"That's TWO, I owe you."
     "Whatever," came the mumble from my big sister's bedroom.  I 
guess that she had a big night too.  I wondered how many times 
SHE got fucked?  Oh well, none of my business.  Lonnie was 
obviously sexually satisfied; unlike me, a little over a week 
ago.
     I fell asleep with Betty-Lou's soggy panties stuck under my 
pillow, so her scent would give me sweet dreams.  Well, I DID 
have dreams that night . . . .























                                43


                            Chapter 5
                          Interlude #2.


     The next week was an exercise in frustration.  I now had two 
girls who would be willing to fuck me, if we could only get 
together.  Only first, there was school all day long, and Betty-
Lou was busy almost every evening.  The one evening she WASN'T 
busy, I was.
     It wasn't much better with Suzy.  We both kept swinging and 
missing.  On Sunday, we barely got together for a quick peck of a 
kiss, and a feel up under her short little dress, before Chrissie 
came looking for me, and WE had to go somewhere.  Normally, a 
trip to the wave-pool would have been quite a treat on a hot 
September day, just before Fall set in.  Only when you have a 
chance to get laid, being teased by a whole set of sexy young 
girls in bathing suits was NOT what I needed.  To make it worse, 
my parents had invited Suzy and her sister to come along, so I 
got to watch the girl I was falling in love with flaunt her body 
at me in a "look, but don't touch" environment.  I was almost 
tempted to follow the little girl into the changing/rest-room, 
and pull her little one-piece suit off and fuck her right there, 
in front of any other girls who happened by.  <Sigh.>  Almost.
     Her little sister wasn't much better.  The little kid seemed 
to know something about me and her sibling, and the cute little 
kid teased me unmercifully.  I mean, it was bad enough with Suzy.  
At least she had a one-piece swimsuit on and didn't flaunt 
herself at me.  I guess she was just as frustrated as I was; 
seeing me there, knowing she could get laid if only we could be 
alone.  But Ginny had no problems like that.  I think she 
deliberately wore a bikini that showed off every square inch of 
skin legally allowable; and I swear the little girl followed me 
around; plonking herself down next to me where her cute little 
bellybutton was almost at eye-level; and deliberately spreading 
her legs so that on a couple of occasions I actually got a 
glimpse of her bare little cunny through the leg-holes on the 
bottom.  It isn't FAIR to show a guy heaven, and then deny him 
even a touch.
     For a minute, in the water, I caught Suzy alone, and managed 
to hug her; wrapping my arms around the sexy little girl and 
holding her tight in frustrated need.  Suzy gave just as good as 
she got; and for a moment I almost came in my shorts (OK, 
swimsuit) in the water there.  We had to pull away though, before 
anybody got suspicious.  In fact, somebody DID get suspicious; as 
I could see Ginny paddling our way the moment we pulled apart.
     "If I didn't know better, I'd say your little sister was 
making a play for me," I told Suzy.
     "Yeah, she DOES seem to be a little jealous, doesn't she," 
acknowledged Suzy.  "Don't worry about it.  I'll take care of 
everything," she said.







                                44


     I don't know what Suzy told her little sister; but from then 
on, the tone of her teasing changed.  No longer did the little 
girl seem to be trying to get between me and her big sister, but 
on the other hand her blatant display of creamy-smooth skin and 
budding body got even worse, if possible.  Any time she caught me 
looking at her, the little girl would grin and display even more 
of her budding young charms, if possible.  I couldn't believe 
that a 10-year-old could be that sexy.  (OK, OK!  Ginny was 
almost 11.)  It was bad enough for me to be turned on by her 
older sister.  It's a good thing that my swimsuit was wet from 
swimming, as otherwise someone might have asked me why I had a 
wet-spot in my pants on the way home.
     To complete my frustration, somehow I found myself wedged 
between BOTH giggling little girls on the way home.  Worse than 
that, neither one seemed to be the least bit shy in front of the 
other.  I found myself with one arm wrapped around each girl; 
trying to make my surreptitious feels of their smooth skin look 
like just friendly touches that I couldn't help, while both Suzy 
and Ginny didn't seem to have any such restrictions.  Suzy 
actually grasped the outline of my swollen prick through my 
shorts, when my parents weren't looking; not seeming to be in the 
least bit shy about doing it in front of her little sister.  The 
two girls grinned at each other, then at me.  Just when I thought 
things couldn't get any worse, Ginny slipped her cool little hand 
down INTO my pants, and actually wrapped it around the swollen 
member.  I almost creamed my shorts.  I couldn't believe that the 
little girl would do this in the first place, or that her big 
sister wouldn't mind her playing with "her" boyfriend, the 
second. Far from minding, Suzy just grinned, when her little 
sister leaned over and said, "You're right, it IS just as nice as 
you said it was."  Oh shit!
     I think Ginny would probably have jacked me off right there, 
in front of her big sister, but my mother picked that moment to 
start shifting around so she could look in the back seat.  Ginny 
barely got her hand out of my pants in time.
     "What's that you said?" she asked.  I was sweating blood.
     "I said Mark's just as nice as Suzy said he was," replied 
Ginny; snuggling into my arms.  On the other hand, Suzy did the 
same thing.  Oh God.
     Mother just raised an eyebrow and then grinned.  I never did 
find out what she thought was going on in the back seat; but I 
wonder if she knew.  If she did, she never said anything.  Maybe 
my mother was young once, after all.
     After that, I barely got a peck of a kiss, and Suzy had to 
go home.
     I must have jacked-off three times that night, and sad to 
say, two of them I spent imagining I was squirting Suzy's little 
sister full of my sperm, instead of the older girl.
     Monday night, Suzy had practice of some kind after school, 
and Tuesday I was trying out for the team.  It was Wednesday 
before we managed to get together.






                                45


     In return for taking the girls out to the wave-pool, the 
Morgans invited us over for a barbecue on Wednesday night.  (No, 
they didn't feel OBLIGATED to; it was just more fun to have us 
over for a party, than to do it alone.  Besides, there wouldn't 
be too many more days suitable for barbecues before the weather 
got cold.)
     You might think that having both families together in a big 
bunch like that would give us LESS time to be alone, but in fact 
it gave us the first chance we had for almost a week.  Our 
parents were too busy talking and fixing food, and doing all the 
other things that parents do at parties, to pay much attention to 
what their kids were doing.
     Thus I found myself being hauled into Suzy's house with her 
little sister in tow.  "What's with HER?" I asked Suzy.  I mean, 
if we were going to "get together" like we wanted to, we surely 
didn't want her little sister along!
     "We need her," explained Suzy.  At my consternation, she 
continued, "as a lookout.  If our parents come looking for 
us . . . ."
     She was right.  Still, I didn't feel too comfortable about 
Ginny even knowing what her big sister and boyfriend were doing.  
I never got a chance to object though, because Ginny beat me to 
it.
     "You OWE me for this, Big Sister," she said; putting 
capitals in her statement.
     "I've already set you up for next week," Suzy reminded her 
little sister, "so don't push things.  OK?"
     "OK."  Ginny subsided for a bit, then added, "But I can only 
do so much.  If I give a double-rap on the door, then you guys 
had better be decent in a hurry, because I can't guarantee I'll 
be able to distract anyone coming for very long."
     Suzy nodded, as if that was what she expected.  "Thanks, 
Ginny," she said; and got a nod of her own, in return.
     "Thanks, kid," I added, to compliment Suzy.
     "Don't thank me yet," said Ginny; looking me up and down as 
if I was a slab of meat in the butcher-shop.  "You still owe me, 
and I'm going to collect.  And don't call me 'kid.'  I'm a woman 
now."  Ginny drew herself up, and tried to show off her almost 
non-existent bosom.  Well, there WERE buds there, but not really 
breasts yet.  Still, she WAS developing.  I didn't have to be 
patronizing.  Besides, Ginny was a nice kid.  (OK, so I was 
patronizing in my head . . . so sue me.)  "Sorry Ginny," I said, 
"I stand corrected.  You are NOT a kid, you are developing into a 
nice young woman."
     "And don't you forget it," said Ginny, before shutting the 
door firmly behind us, as she left the two of us alone in the 
bedroom she shared with her big sister.  Suzy raised an eyebrow 
at me, and we both giggled.









                                46


     Two minutes later, we were both too involved to giggle.  If 
Ginny had rapped with a sledgehammer at the door, I don't think 
we could have recovered in time to look "decent", if the little 
girl didn't manage to distract any snooping parents.  Thankfully, 
either Ginny was very good at distracting people (she is) or 
nobody thought to check on the three of us for the next 30 
minutes.  By that time I had drained my wad in Suzy's sexy young 
belly twice, while she had gotten off I don't know how many 
times, but at least three.  GOD it felt good to feel the little 
girl's tight little slit squeezing the heck out of my swollen 
peter, while I watched it slowly slide up into the squeezing 
little hole I had been dreaming about for the last week or two.
     The feeling of a tight ring slowly sliding down to the base 
of my prick was almost enough to make me cum without even fucking 
her properly.  Aw, who am I kidding?  I barely got two inches 
inside Suzy's tight little hole, before I was decorating the 
inside of her flat little tummy with rope after thick sticky rope 
of pearly white cream.  I just slid my spasming prick into the 
little girl to the hilt, and lay there and let my seed flow into 
the child's womb.  God, what a release, after all that waiting.
     Thankfully, Suzy seemed to be just as frustrated and eager 
as I was; climaxing from the time she felt the first thick squirt 
enter her tiny little hole, and not really stopping until we 
regretfully had to pull apart when I had finished fucking her for 
the second time, and we knew we had to get back to the party.  
Yes, I fucked her twice.  One quick fuck of, "Slide it in and 
squirt," wasn't enough for either of us, after all that time of 
doing without.
     Again thankfully, it didn't take that long for me to get 
hard again.  In fact, I never even pulled out; just let the 
little girl's tight little cunny milk my aching prick to hardness 
inside her, before starting over to do it right the second time.  
We were both too horny to even attempt foreplay, and once we had 
already fucked, it seemed like redundance, when we could keep on 
doing the "real thing" instead.  So we did.  That doesn't mean we 
didn't feel each other up, and hug and cuddle, and make loving 
noises while we fucked though.  We did all that, and more.
     The second time I felt Suzy's tight little ring slide down 
my aching prick, it was a LOT easier to keep from "blowing my 
cool" inside her.  We managed to enjoy being mated (as I said) 
for almost half an hour, before the sensations got to be too much 
for us, and I felt the (by now familiar) sensations of a pulsing 
in my prick that told me I was filling the little girl's tight 
little slit with my seed.
     Suzy seemed to enjoy fucking me, almost as much as I liked 
"sticking it to" her.  In fact, she jerked and squeezed my prick 
three times while I was slowly sliding in and out.  When I asked 
her afterwards, if she had gotten off, she replied, "Are you 
kidding?  You mean you didn't FEEL it?"  Well, what could I say?
     We were just pulling apart, when Ginny poked her head 
through the door.  There was absolutely no doubt about what the 
two of us were doing either; as my prick was dripping white cum 
to match the white froth making a gooey mess of her big sister's 
cunny.



                                47


     Ginny didn't seem to find anything wrong with this though.  
"You two had better hurry and get cleaned up," was her only 
comment, "I don't know how much longer I can cover for you."
     "Ooohh!"  With a common groan, Suzy and I pulled apart. It 
was only when I was washing my hands and prick in the sink, and 
the little girl handed me a bag to fill with water, that I 
remembered the comment Suzy had made so long before . . . (Could 
it REALLY only be just a little over a week ago?) about her 
period, and it being OK THEN for me to cum inside her . . . .
     Oh shit!  I felt like a complete asshole.
     Suzy wouldn't let me apologize though.  She explained that 
she knew HER schedule, and she no more had wanted to stop than I 
had.  Besides, I didn't have any condoms yet, did I?  When I said 
no, she explained that neither did she.  If she got 
pregnant . . . .
     Suzy shrugged.  She'd just have to see.  She NEEDED that 
fuck, just as much as I did.
     I couldn't believe that the little girl could be so 
nonchalant.  Well, after all it WAS more her worry than mine.  
After all, it was HER body that would have to carry the baby if 
she had one; though it would be both of us who would be in 
trouble if she did.  I couldn't believe it, but I was getting 
hard again, at just the thought.
     Ginny just smirked, when we finally came out of the 
bathroom, combing our hair, and generally trying to make 
ourselves look presentable again.  "Well?" she asked, "Did you 
two manage to 'work things out' OK?"
     Suzy threw a sofa-cushion at her little sister; while I 
barely managed a fake grin.
     Though we'd been gone over an hour, nobody at the "picnic" 
seemed to notice we'd been gone . . . except possibly my big 
sister, who gave me a funny grin.  Whatever . . . Lonnie never 
said anything though.
























                                48


                            Chapter 6
                            Date #3.

     Why was it, that the next day I wasn't surprised to hear my 
big sister say that she'd set me up with Ginny for my next date?  
Still, I felt I had to raise SOME objection.
     "But she's just a kid," I said.
     "That's what you said about Suzy," Lonnie reminded me.
     "Yeah, but at least SHE is 12," I said, then blushed as I 
remembered how that put Suzy past the age of puberty, and into 
the "dangerous" age.  "Ginny's only 10."
     "Almost 11," corrected my big sister.  "What's the matter?" 
she asked.  "Scared you're not going to have a good time?"
     Again I blushed.  Lonnie hadn't let me down yet.  Besides, 
there was always her "guarantee".  Somehow, I doubted I'd need 
it.  Still, ten years old?  On the other hand, Ginny was a NICE 
kid.  I knew after the buildup that her big sister and mine must 
have given her, that Ginny would be AWFULLY disappointed if I 
begged off.  Especially, if I said she was, "Too young."  After 
looking out for me and Suzy the other day, I guess sex wasn't 
going to be a problem.  That didn't mean I had to screw the kid, 
if she wasn't ready.  Heck, maybe we could have lots of fun 
anyway, with me showing Ginny how to "make out" without actually 
having sex.
     The more I thought about it, the more like fun it looked, to 
"teach" the kid how to have fun without actually getting fucked.  
Of course, I didn't figure on Ginny having her own agenda.
     Just like the first time, Tammy was waiting to thank me for 
taking her little girl out.  Only, to top it off, Suzy braced me 
in the hall, to tell me the same thing!  "Now you take good care 
of her; and don't you DARE hurt her," she whispered fiercely to 
me, before letting me into the living-room to wait while Ginny 
finished getting "spruced up."
     I looked disgustedly at my girlfriend.  (Yes, I thought of 
Suzy as my girlfriend, and it felt pretty funny taking my 
girlfriend's little sister out on a date.)  "Do you really think 
I'd do ANYTHING to hurt your little sister?" I asked.
     This time it was Suzy's turn to blush.  "You might turn her 
down," she said; then REALLY started blushing.  "I promised her 
you'd give her a good time," she added.
     Oh God.  Just what HAD Suzy promised her little sister I'd 
do?  I never got to find out, as Ginny picked that moment to make 
her entrance.
     Wow!  I didn't know little girls COULD look that good.  
Obviously Tammy had been helping her daughter, as I just don't 
believe a 10-year-old could come up with an outfit like that.  
Not to mention the makeup that was so skillfully applied, that it 
almost didn't look like it was there.
     Most little girls, if they were trying to look sexy, would 
put on high-heels, silk stockings, and a vee-necked dress slit 
down almost to the navel.  The would also probably pad their bra 
to look like a woman about to have twins.  Ginny looked nothing 
like that.




                                49


     Starting at the bottom, Ginny was dressed in flat, oxford-
style shoes, with bobby-sox, not nylons.  No hint of stocking or 
other cloth marred the smooth flesh between her ankles, and the 
hem of the one-piece dress that fell halfway between her knees 
and the little mound that occasionally showed that there was a 
woman underneath that dress.  The dress itself was a soft beige 
cotton material that flowed smoothly from her shoulders to the 
hem, in what almost looked like a seamless fit.  It wasn't.  To 
fit that closely to the little girl's body, it must have been cut 
to fit.  Ginny's breasts made soft mounds in the front, not 
overblown bazzooms, like a full-grown woman would have.  There 
MIGHT have been a little padding under the cups, but if so, it 
was demure.
     No makeup was visible on the little girl's face; but I knew 
that was an illusion too.  NOBODY, not even little girls, looks 
THAT good, without professional help.  A gold band was around her 
neck; and a soft cotton band matching the dress held her hair in 
place.  No earrings.  Except for the sexiness of the dress, Ginny 
looked the picture of innocence.  In fact, that's what made her 
look so incredibly sexy.  Her wearing a sexy outfit like that, 
while still having an air of innocence as if she didn't even know 
what sex was.  (But I knew different, from what she had seen me 
and her big sister do the day before.)  Even under the dress, (I 
learned later) she was only wearing soft cotton panties that were 
probably sexier on a little girl like her, than most women's silk 
underwear.
     Did you ever get the feeling you were being set-up?
     Ginny walked right up to me, while I was taking in her 
attire, and gave me a kiss like I didn't give her big sister 
until we got home that first night.  "Let's go," she whispered in 
my ear.  "I can't WAIT to get started."
     Well, that was the whole idea; to go out on a date.  So, 
just like with her big sister, two minutes later Ginny and I 
found ourselves alone on the front porch; while the door shut 
with a <click> behind us.
     With a girl as young as Ginny, I hadn't been too sure what 
she would want.  So, I had just brought along most of the money I 
had made mowing lawns and added it to my allowance, in hopes that 
we could find someplace that we both enjoyed, to have fun.  
Though my parents were out for the night themselves, I sure 
didn't plan on taking Ginny over to our place, and just watching 
television.  I wanted HER to enjoy this too.  Lonnie had already 
guaranteed that I would have a good time.  It was up to me to see 
to it that my dates did.  Still, I wasn't sure WHAT Ginny liked.
     We could go to a movie, we could go to a fancy restaurant, 
or to the park, or even to the library, if she liked books like 
Betty-Lou and I had done.  If I had felt funny going out with 
Suzy, I felt like a child-raping pedophile with her 10-year-old 
little sister.  When we got out the door, I asked Ginny what she 
wanted to do.  Go and eat dinner . . . go to a movie, like her 
big sister had . . . go skating . . . or what?
     "I want to go over to your house and fuck," she said, "just 
like my big sister does."  I almost had a heart-attack.




                                50


     When she saw my reaction, Ginny changed her tactics a 
little; from all-out brazen, to pleading little girl that MUCH 
better suited the "kinderslut" outfit she was wearing.
     "Please," she pleaded, "I've been wanting to try it ever 
since I first saw you and Suzy two weeks ago.  She liked it SO 
much, and you were SO nice to her, and I didn't dare even stand 
there and watch; though I wanted to so bad."
     Oh shit.  Ginny HAD gotten up to go to the toilet that 
night, and had seen the two of us going at it like rabbits.  Only 
instead of being disgusted or frightened at seeing her sister and 
the boy next door fucking in the living-room, Ginny had just 
envied her big sister, and then bugged Suzy until she got the 
older girl to convince MY big sister to let her be "next" on the 
list.  I wonder who Lonnie had originally planned for that night?
     "Uh . . . are you sure?" I asked.  I really HAD wanted to 
get laid that night, but I hadn't really expected to get in the 
pants of Suzy's little sister!  I mean . . . 10 years old?  
Still, if Ginny really WANTED it . . . she did.
     It seems that Ginny KNEW my parents were going to be out; 
almost as if she had arranged it.  She wanted to go right on over 
to my room, and "Fuck our brains out."  In fact, she used those 
very words.  What could I say?  Nothing . . . so I did it.
     Yes, I fucked my girlfriend's 10 year old little sister.  
And surprisingly, I don't feel the least bit guilty about it.  
Ginny wanted it.  Her big sister knew about it, and didn't seem 
to mind.  (Mind?  Hell, Suzy set me up!)  Her parents, if they 
didn't mind, sure were being awfully ambiguous about it if they 
did.  Even my parents seemed to be somewhat cooperative, leaving 
the house to me and Ginny.  (Well, maybe they didn't know what 
Ginny had planned, but if they were worried about me boffing one 
of the neighbor girls, they would almost certainly have NOT left 
the house vacant for the two of us to use.)
     Somehow it ended up almost a race to my house, to see who 
got there first, and who got undressed first.  Only I stopped 
Ginny.  "Do you mind?" I asked, as I stopped her from pulling the 
short little dress off.
     "Huh?" she asked.
     "I always wanted to 'peel a tomato.'" I explained with a 
giggle.  (My parents once brought home the movie "The Sterile 
Cuckoo".  That line is the only thing about the movie I 
remember.)  Ginny giggled, when I explained, but consented, "Only 
if I get to peel the potato," she snickered.
     We were both in such a giddy mood of giggling, that I found 
it hard to undress her.  Damn, what a sexy outfit!  Not to 
mention, what a sexy little girl inside it.  I unzipped Ginny's 
dress in the back, and then peeled it down over her shoulders and 
arms.  It kind of WAS like "peeling a tomato."
     I couldn't resist kissing the little girl on the navel, once 
I got the dress off.  She looked SO sexy there, in bra, panties, 
and shoes.  The feel of her bare skin against my fingers was 
almost shocking, each time I touched her, or reached to take off 
another article of clothing.  Such a perfect little-girl body.





                                51


     For those of you who've never undressed a girl before, it's 
fun.  Awkward, but fun.  My touch kept bringing unexpected 
giggles from Ginny; making me fumble with things just when I 
thought I had them figured out.  It seems so easy, doesn't it?  
Just unzip the dress, and let it fall off.  Then unsnap the 
girl's bra, and slip it over her shoulders.  That will leave you 
with her panties and shoes.  No big deal, huh?  Oh yeah?
     In the first place, most people aren't used to being 
touched.  Especially in unexpected places, by a person of the 
opposite sex.  This caused Ginny to giggle and flinch each time I 
figured I had a "handle" on things.  Like when I reached for her 
zipper, Ginny almost yanked it out of my hand, when she first 
felt my touch on the back of her neck.  Then sliding the tight 
little dress off her body was harder than expected, as it was cut 
so close to her body size and shape that it was a struggle to get 
it over her hips.  (Up to now, I hadn't thought the little girl 
HAD any hips to speak of.  Ginny, it turned out, was more woman 
in many ways than I expected.)
     The feel of smooth little-girl skin against my hand almost 
made ME jump; it was so sexy.  After helping her step out of the 
dress, I tried her bra next.
     I think the designers of women's brassieres must all be 
frustrated old women who hate men.  It's almost as if they are 
DESIGNED to be hard for a man to remove.  There's these funny 
little wire hooks, that are so tight you have to push them off 
backwards.  And they don't want to go.  (Of course, If I was a 
brassiere on a pretty girl, I wouldn't want to go either.)  It 
took me almost two minutes of fussing to get that stupid thing 
unhooked.  All the time Ginny was giggling, and then each time I 
thought I had it, she would jerk at my touch in some unexpected 
spot, and I would lose the damned thing again.
     Finally, I got all three hooks undone, and slipped it off.  
There WAS a little padding in the cups, but not all the stuff 
filling the bra was padding.  Some of it was real live girl.  In 
spite of being only 10, (well OK, almost 11) Ginny was starting 
to fill out in the most delightful places.  Even Suzy didn't have 
that much on her little sister.
     If I had had any sense, I would have left the little girl's 
panties for last.  But who said I had any sense?  I mean, taking 
out a 10 year old kid, and then going right next door and getting 
her undressed to fuck her?  That's being smart?  Oh well.
     As it was, Ginny ended up standing in front of me, naked 
except for panties and shoes, while I had my face almost in her 
bellybutton; trying to remove those same panties.  The smell 
almost knocked me down.
     NO!  I don't mean that, idiot!  Ginny did NOT stink.  Far 
from it, in fact.  Ginny smelled like nice clean little girl, 
fresh from the shower.  (I guess she was; having just finished 
bathing before we left.)  There was only the faintest hint of 
sexy smell coming from her already lubricating young cunny.  It's 
just that the mere smell of pretty little girl right in my nose 
was so exciting I almost came in my shorts, without even taking 
them off.




                                52


     I couldn't resist . . . I put my face close to Ginny, and 
licked her bellybutton.  Of course it was a mistake.  Ginny 
jerked away at the tickling sensation; I grabbed at her, and we 
both ended up in a giggling heap on the floor.  This time I did 
it right, and KISSED her soundly on the navel, before we got back 
up so that I could do what I had started to do:  Remove her 
panties.
     Golly what a sexy sight.  Not one trace of hair from her 
cute little navel down to the puffy dent that showed where her 
sex was.  The dent was so big that somehow I didn't doubt that 
Ginny could take my prick up inside her, in spite of her tender 
age.  I hurriedly removed the panties, before the aroma of sexy 
little girl in my nose made me lose control.  Then, Ginny sat on 
the bed, while I removed her shoes and socks.
     Beautiful feet.  I had never been particularly turned on by 
feet before, but ones like Ginny's almost made a foot-fetish man 
out of me.  Perfect little feet, with perfect little toes.  
Slender ankles led up to slightly swelling thighs, which led 
to . . . OOOoooh!  "Down boy!" I chided myself.
     It wasn't until Ginny reached for me when I was finished, 
that I remembered her part of the deal.  I was to be undressed by 
Ginny, just like I had undressed her.  I hoped I could manage to 
let her, without embarrassing myself.
     Well, I did, but just barely.  It was only the unexpected 
shocks and giggles that kept me from squirting thick white greasy 
gobs of cum all over the little girl's face or hands, when she 
removed MY undershorts.  The rest of it I managed by just 
gritting my teeth and shivering at each sensual touch.
     There was a slight pause, when Ginny tried to remove my 
pants without pulling my shoes off first, but that was only fair 
after the contretemp I had when trying to remove her bra.  I 
guess she wasn't any more experienced at undressing the opposite 
sex than I was.  (Surprise, surprise.)
     When Ginny finished, we stood there for a moment just 
looking at each other, until I realize that Ginny was waiting for 
me to start something.  After all, I was the "expert" here.  
(Yeah . . . Sex eight times, with two different girls, and that 
makes me an expert, huh?  Well, compared to Ginny, I guess I 
was.)
     Thank goodness ONE of us had some experience before.  I 
think there should be some law, that all virgins should be 
initiated by someone who knows what they are doing.  Can you 
imagine a boy and a girl trying to get things right for the first 
time, with neither one knowing what they were doing?  God, what a 
disaster.
     I have since read of just such things happening.  In fact, 
in an article about some honeymoon-resorts in the Poconos, I read 
where some couples actually get married and are in their 20's, 
for Christ's sake, and both of them are virgins.  Can you imagine 
how tough a girl's virginity gets, if she hangs onto it for 20 
years?  Well, with Ginny and me, it wasn't QUITE "the blind 
leading the blind" but it was close enough to be awkward.





                                53


     With Suzy and I, things had just seemed natural; flowing 
from seduction, to foreplay, to intercourse, in an almost 
seamless manner.  Even when we fucked, it was just one little 
step further along.
     With Ginny, it was like I was raping some virgin-sacrifice 
on an alter.  Never mind that Ginny wanted this almost as much as 
I did.  Seeing the little girl lying there naked on the bed, 
waiting to be fucked, was more a turn-off at wondering what to 
do, than turn-on at knowing she wanted me inside her just as much 
as I did.  Luckily I retained a little sense, and didn't just 
climb on top of her and fuck, like Ginny seemed to want.
     Figuring that what was good for her big sister would be good 
for her too; I bent over and started "feeling her up."  Uhuh.  I 
ran my hands up and down her body, then started kissing her all 
over, as I tried to duplicate the erotic time Suzy and I had in 
the car two weeks before.
     I must have done something right, because Ginny started 
moaning and squirming and best of all, kissing me back.  Shortly 
we were two squirming bodies on the bed; as we both did our best 
to make the other feel good.
     I don't remember all the things we did, but it must have 
been at least 10 minutes later, while I was gently massaging 
Ginny's face, as we stopped occasionally to give each other pecks 
on the lips, and I was trying to memorize every line of the 
little girl's face, that I first felt my prick slip between 
Ginny's legs.  I had almost forgotten about having sex.  Making 
love like this was almost as much fun.  Still, the feel of my 
prick rubbing against the furrow of the little girl's sex was 
hard to ignore.  Ginny had noticed it too, and looked down 
between our bodies.
     "Are you sure?" I asked; the first word either of us had 
said in over ten minutes.
     Ginny didn't ask what I was talking about.  She just spread 
her legs enough to give me better access.  The next thing I knew, 
the head of my prick was pushing into the tight little hole 
between the 10-year-old's legs.
     Sounds sexy, doesn't it?  Well, it was, and it wasn't.  It 
was sexy to feel the child's tight little hole surround the tip 
of my prick.  In fact, I almost squirted her full of sperm, 
without ever getting inside her.  What was NOT sexy, was the fact 
that I couldn't get it in!  We were both too dry.
     Now you may not believe this; thinking that by this time 
Ginny must have been as aroused as she was going to get, and my 
prick should have been leaking pre-cum for the previous half-
hour.  Well, you'd be right, and you'd be wrong.  Both of us WERE 
highly aroused, and HAD been lubricating. Only it wasn't 
lubrication where we needed it.
     There was an, "Ow!" from Ginny, before I managed to wipe the 
head of my prick around her drooling snatch; lubricating both of 
us enough that the head of my prick popped into her tight little 
hole.






                                54


     After that, the shaft of my prick was STILL dry, so it took 
a couple of in-and-out shoves, before I managed to get two inches 
of solid prick inside her, evoking yet another, "Ow," from Ginny.  
THIS time, the barrier was inside her.  With Suzy, we had been so 
worked-up and involved, that she had hardly noticed the loss of 
her virginity to my finger.  With Ginny, there was no way she was 
going to miss it.
     "Are you sure?" I asked again.
     "Please," whimpered Ginny.  I knew she did NOT mean, "Please 
pull out."  So I did it.
     I worked my prick in and out a couple of times to get more 
of our juices spread around, then on the third time in, I just 
kept going.  A tight ring surrounded the tip of my penis, and 
then spread around it; then spread some more, until suddenly I 
had four inches of solid prick inside the little girl and the 
unlubricated part kept me from going in any farther.  It was too 
much.
     With only 4 inches of my prick buried in her tight little 
snatch, I suddenly began squirting thick sticky gobs of sperm all 
over the inside of the little girl's vagina.  I couldn't help it.
     Ginny just lay there and groaned.  I guess that once the 
initial pain was over, she didn't mind it so much, but she didn't 
really enjoy it either.  Damn.  Still, Ginny didn't ask me to 
pull off either.  In fact, once she got used to feeling me inside 
her, she pulled back about an inch, and then pushed forward.  
Twice she did this, until my prick was all the way up inside her, 
and the last of my potent sperm was dribbling against her 
immature cervix.
     "There," said Ginny; suppressing a sniffle.  "At least Suzy 
can't say I didn't fuck you properly.  Now you just fuck me, and 
cum in me all you want to . . . OK?"
     I almost snickered.  Luckily, I have more control than that.  
Ginny sounded SO proud that she had managed to fuck her big 
sister's boyfriend.  "Thanks Ginny," I said, "but I already did."
     "Huh?" said Ginny.
     "I already came," I amplified.
     "But I didn't FEEL anything," she complained.
     It was only when I pulled out, and showed the little girl 
the white goo dripping from my prick and her newly deflowered 
snatch, that she believed me.
     "Let's do it again," she said.  "I want to feel the good 
parts, where you cum in me while we're both liking it, like Suzy 
does.  I know it's got to feel better than doing it myself; from 
watching the way you two like it."
     Oh shit.  I wouldn't be ready to go again, for at least 
another half hour, and maybe even longer.  I pointed this out to 
Ginny.
     "Well, what do we do NOW?" she asked.
     "Well," I replied, "we ARE on a 'date.'  Why don't we go get 
something to eat, or go to a show or something.  Then when we get 
back, maybe you'll be feeling better, and I won't be so horny I 
blow it from overexcitement.  What do you say?"





                                55


     It took us only 10 minutes to get washed up, and dressed.  
It's amazing how much faster it goes when you do things yourself.
     Twenty minutes later, we were in a truck-stop ordering 
dinner.  Ginny did NOT want to wait for reservations at a fancy 
place, and I didn't want to take her to the same place I had 
taken her big sister.  Comments from earlier about "robbing the 
cradle" came to mind.  If Carol ever figured out that I was 
fucking not only Suzy, but her little sister as well . . . 
<Shudder.>
     All during the meal, Ginny and I "played footsie" under the 
table.  It was only the knowing smirk on the waitress's lips, 
that made us stop.  All I needed, was to be arrested for 
"molesting" a little girl.  Damn, it sure didn't FEEL like I was 
molesting her.
     When we left the diner, I tried to convince Ginny that maybe 
we should still go to a movie or something, but she wouldn't have 
it.
     "Let's go back to your place," she said.  "This time it'll 
work out better, I'm sure."
     What could I say?  So, we ended back up in my room, with 
half the night still left.
     This time, we undressed ourselves.  You know what?  It's 
almost as sexy watching a little girl get undressed for YOU, as 
it is to undress her.  Just knowing she is taking her clothes off 
so she can cuddle up naked with you is almost as exciting as 
taking her clothes off yourself.
     The second time, there was no fooling around or fumbling.  
After cuddling together and smooching for a bare-minimum time 
necessary to get my hard-on back up to snuff, I wet it with my 
saliva, and slid home inside the little girl with a rush.
     This time, Ginny only let out a slight, "Ouch," as My prick 
bottomed out in her.  Also this time, I didn't cum inside her 
immediately on feeling the child's tight little hole surrounding 
my prick in a warm, wet, wonderful embrace.
     For ten wonderful minutes we lay there, while I slowly slid 
my engorged prick in and out, before I finally lost control and 
sent my seed spurting high into the little girl's welcoming young 
womb.  Ginny still didn't get off, but for the last six of the 
ten minutes, I knew she was starting to enjoy feeling me sliding 
in and out, almost as much as I liked feeling her tight little 
cunny squeezing and milking on my horny cock.
     This time, while Ginny still didn't feel me squirting inside 
her, (I don't think a woman can.) she DID know I was getting off, 
and held me close while I spurted and jerked inside her.
     Afterwards, we just lay there together, with my wilting 
prick held inside her tight little hole, while we cuddled and 
stroked each other.  It was with some surprise, (to me, anyway) 
that about a half-hour later, my prick started to swell again, 
without ever pulling out.
     "Ooohh, I feel that," said Ginny, with a grin.  She started 
working against me; working life back into my prick with her 
tight little hole.  I hadn't even known you COULD fuck a second 
time without pulling out.  That didn't stop me from doing it 
though.



                                56


     This time, it seemed like my prick would NEVER fire.  In and 
out; in and out.  On and on I fucked, until my prick was almost 
getting sore.  I was about to give up and pull out, when I 
noticed Ginny's eyes getting wide, and her movements suddenly got 
frantic.  Well, if she wanted to get me off one more time, I 
decided to try.  Only Ginny wasn't concerned about me.
     With a screech that I was worried would be heard by her 
parents next door, Ginny suddenly grabbed me in a bear-hug and 
started bucking wildly and uncontrollably underneath me.  Once my 
prick came out for a second, in her wild gyrations, but she got 
it in after an, "Ow!" from both of us when she missed the first 
time.  Such a commotion and milking and squeezing on my prick I 
had never felt.  Ginny was already tighter than either her big 
sister or Betty-Lou, but this was unbelievable.  It almost felt 
like she was going to cut the damned thing off.  Finally, Ginny's 
wild commotion came to an end.  I don't know if I came in her 
during that wild ride or not.  In any case, my prick was wilting, 
and I felt comfortably sated with sex . . . .
     Seven hours later, Lonnie was poking me in the ribs.  Ginny 
and I had fallen asleep, still sexually joined, after that last 
great fuck where she got her rocks off, for the first time, with 
a man inside her tight little snatch.
     Lonnie just grinned at the sight of her little brother 
pulling his limp wet prick out of the little girl next door.  
"You'd better be getting back," she commented.  "It's after 5:00 
in the morning.  Besides, Mom and Dad will be coming home pretty 
soon, and I'm not too sure what they'd say about finding you two 
like this."
     Holy shit, Batman!  Such a mad scramble to get dressed and 
out, you never did see!  Ginny told me I didn't have to get 
dressed; it wasn't all THAT far to her house, that she couldn't 
make it next door, without me.  I didn't buy it.
     I had taken Ginny out on a date, and I would see her home 
properly . . . .
     Even if it WAS too late, I could face the music like she 
would.  I ran Tammy's instructions through my head . . . no, 
(Thank Goodness.) she HADN'T insisted that I bring Ginny home 
early, like she had when I took out Suzy.  Maybe it was an 
oversight, and maybe she just expected me to know that the rules 
that applied to her older sister applied to the younger girl too.  
Whatever.  At least I hadn't broken any specific rules.  Next 
time, I would set an alarm clock before having sex.  I hadn't 
known that having sex would put you to sleep like that 
afterwards.
     Ginny just carried her shoes, and I didn't bother to put on 
mine, "to save time."  We both ran barefoot through the dew-
covered grass back to her place, and then stood shyly looking at 
one another.
     "Well, uh, thanks," she said; drawing circles on the porch 
with her wet toe.  "I had a great time."
     "So did I," I said . . . the understatement of the year.






                                57


     Ginny held out her cheek to me for a chaste peck, but I 
would have nothing of it.  I turned her head around with my 
finger, and then kissed her properly on the mouth.  For a moment, 
Ginny just pecked with her lips, then suddenly we were in a wild 
embrace kissing hungrily as we stroked each other.
     I guess Ginny had known what she was doing; only offering me 
her cheek.  It was all we could do to break apart, and not end up 
on the porch rutting like two dogs in heat, in front of the 
neighbors and everybody.
     Somehow, shuddering, we pulled apart.
     "We've GOT to do this again sometime," I said.
     "Uhuh," replied Ginny, "we do."  This time, when she just 
pecked me on the cheek, I merely accepted it.  There was a 
<click> from the door, and Ginny was gone.
     It was awful lonely going back to my house.
     It was also cutting things a bit fine.  I had barely gotten 
back home, and was looking across the yard when a light went out 
in the Morgans' house; leaving it black.  Not five seconds later, 
a white streak of light became visible as a car turned the corner 
down the street, and then came closer to pull into the driveway 
next door.  Tammy was home.
     I was still sweating THIS narrow escape, while settling back 
to sleep in my bed, when the noise of the front door opening 
announced my parents' return.  Talk about narrow escapes!

































                                58


                            Chapter 7
                          Interlude #3.

     Lonnie never did say anything more about my sleeping in like 
that, but the next day she DID tease me in front of our parents, 
by saying, "Well, I know YOU had a good time last night;" 
simultaneously reminding me of how she had caught the two of us, 
and of her "guarantee" at the same time.
     "That's THREE I owe you," I replied.
     "I know," Said Lonnie and giggled.
     Mom and Dad didn't say anything.  I guess they were used to 
their children playing funny games.  Besides, they had their own 
cryptic messages that they passed back and forth over OUR heads.
     It was only when I got back to my room after breakfast, that 
I found Ginny's panties in a soggy lump in the middle of the bed.  
Talk about obvious!  I mean, white panties in the middle of a 
dark blue bedspread?  If Mom or Dad had seen, there would have 
been no doubt in their minds what their son had been doing the 
night before, with the little girl next door.  Ginny must have 
deliberately left them for me as a souvenir.  I folded them up, 
and added them to my growing collection.  I had never intended to 
start a collection of girls' panties, but it seemed that the 
girls wanted me to.  Now I had one from each girl I had ever 
fucked.  I didn't dare leave them all soggy with sweat.  They 
would have gotten mildewed.  So, I had to get up in the middle of 
the night and wash them by hand, when nobody was awake.  It was a 
shame washing out the sexy smells, but better than losing them to 
mildew.  Thankfully all three pairs dried fairly rapidly on my 
chair, so I was able to hide them in the morning.
     Saturday was too busy to do anything with anybody.  I had 
three lawns to cut, to help me earn back some of the money I had 
been spending on dates.  I had just gotten back from the last 
one, all smelly and dusty, when Mom told me a girl had called.  
It had been Betty-Lou, and she had waited as long as she could, 
but finally had gone out with someone else.  She had been TRYING 
to get ahold of me all day long, it seems.  Damn!
     Then, that night, my father dropped the bombshell.  "I hear 
you've been fucking the little girl next door," he said at dinner 
time.  I almost choked to death on a potato.  "Your mother and I 
figured that it was probably way too late to stop you," he 
continued, "as you'd just find some way to sneak around and do it 
anyway, if we tried."  My father looked at me sternly.  "Now I 
want you BOTH to know, that we are NOT happy about this," he 
said, "but we also appreciate just how horny kids your ages get.  
I know I wouldn't have been able to pass up a cute little 'piece' 
like Suzy myself, if I'd had a chance at your age.  So, we 
decided we're NOT going to try to stop you; just as long as 
you're careful," he concluded.  I was almost angry that my father 
would even THINK I would hurt the little girl I loved so much, 
until I realized he meant we should be careful nobody else found 
out I was playing around with her.  Some people get all uptight, 
when a 12-year-old (well . . . OK, almost 13) is found to be 
having sex with someone older.  And what about a 10-going-on-11 
year old girl?



                                59


     The worst part of the whole deal, was that Dad didn't 
mention which girl he knew I had been screwing!  And I didn't 
dare ask him, as that would tell him I had been fucking both of 
them  Oh shit.  I wondered if he knew, but again didn't dare ask.
     The next day, Suzy asked me if she could stay overnight.  
Talk about being in a quandary!  Especially, after my father's 
remarks.  I wanted to spend the night with the little girl so bad 
I could taste it; yet if Father got mad at me . . . .
     On the other hand, he hadn't said I HAD to stop screwing the 
little girl.
     I thought it over a little bit; still not knowing what to 
do; then I grabbed Suzy and we both went down and told my big 
sister what she wanted.  Lonnie listened for a while; then 
grinned and told me she would take care of everything.  Suzy went 
home, and I sat in my room; waiting and jittering.  Either that 
night was going to be the best night ever, or the worst.  If, (as 
I feared) my parents got mad at me for even suggesting such a 
thing, then it would be hell.  On the other hand, if I hadn't 
mistaken what my father had implied, having a little girl spend 
the whole night with me, while my parents not only knew I was 
fucking the kid, but were LETTING me do it; if not exactly with 
their approval, then at least with their permission . . . wow!
     About an hour later, Mother poked her head into my room.  
"Your father says it's OK," she said; bringing a sigh of relief 
from me.  "Only we both want you to know that if you hurt EITHER 
of those two little girls, or even make one of them jealous by 
trying to be the 'super-stud' and taking on both of them like 
this, we'll have your ears . . . understand?"
     "Uh, yes," I said; but I didn't really.  BOTH of them?  Did 
my mother mean to imply . . . ?
     Once again, my big sister had "set me up".

     I couldn't believe it.  Somehow Lonnie had changed Suzy's 
request to spend the night with me, into getting me to have BOTH 
of the little girls next door sleep with me while Chrissie was 
spending the night with one of HER friends (only NOT male).  Not 
only that, but it seemed that the little girls' parents not only 
knew they would be spending the night at our house, but that they 
would be spending it with ME, naked, and in the same bed 
together, instead of spending it with my sisters, like most 
normal visits had been previously.  If you thought I was nervous 
before; then I was almost a quivering wreck by suppertime.
     I hadn't even thought about just how we were going to 
arrange things, so it was somewhat of a shock when I found both 
Ginny and her big sister sitting at the dinner table, just the 
way they usually would, if they had been coming over to visit my 
sister, or as they had when they were even younger, and either 
Lonnie or I had been "babysitting" them.
     Just like those earlier times, we sat and joked about 
school; we talked about movies; and yes, the girls talked about 
boys . . . or at least ONE boy anyway, me.  My ears were burning, 
when Ginny and Suzy started talking to Lonnie about, "You should 
hear the way he grunts, when he's close." right in font of my 
parents, yet!  Oh shit!  I felt my face get so red, I thought it 
was going to burn up.


                                60


     Finally, the three girls either got tired of teasing me; or 
maybe they decided to take pity on me.  Whatever.  In either 
case, after dinner, instead of finding myself cuddled up to two 
sexy little girls, I found myself alone in the living-room 
watching TV, while all three girls gathered in Lonnie's bedroom, 
and chatted together as if I wasn't there!
     I was just getting settled into a good grump; watching a 
show that I didn't like, but too pissed-off to change the 
channel, when I felt a body plump itself down on the couch next 
to me, and Ginny snuggled up next to me, like she was coming back 
from being away, rather than just arriving.
     At first, I was inclined to reject her, but my good sense 
and good humor decided otherwise.  Good thing too.  I reached out 
and pulled Ginny closer.  Somehow, when my arm went around her, I 
ended up with my hand up underneath her short little blouse; 
cupping a firm little tittie.  Ooh, did that feel good.  Ginny 
just snuggled closer.
     Damn, it's nice to watch TV with a cute, sexy little girl 
snuggled up next to you; one who doesn't mind your advances.  
Ginny just snuggled closer each time my roving hand slid 
someplace that normally a boy shouldn't feel a little girl; like 
up under her bra, or down in her sexy little panties; feeling her 
firm young butt.  I was barely aware of what was going on TV, or 
the fact that Ginny's hands were roaming over my body and 
underneath MY shirt, almost as freely as my hands were roaming 
over her.
     "My turn," said a sexy female voice, as Lonnie moved in to 
take the little girl's place.  Ginny didn't object at being 
preempted by my big sister; just giving me a loving kiss on the 
lips, before heading back to join HER big sister, while Lonnie 
took over.  I was almost in shock.  Somehow I was NOT surprised 
to find Ginny trading off with her big sister . . . but with MY 
sister too?  Oh shit.
     Lonnie didn't really give me much chance to think about it; 
snuggling up just as close to me as the little girl next door 
had.  For a moment I was really worried.  It was bad enough that 
I was "making out" with the two underaged little girls next door.  
If my parents found out I was fooling around with my own big 
sister too . . . I shuddered.  Only for nothing.  Except for a 
faint chatter coming from Lonnie's bedroom, and the rattle of the 
TV, the house was quiet.  Mother and Father had retired to their 
bedroom; leaving the house to us kids.  I guess they knew what 
was going to happen between me and the little girls next door, 
and didn't want to interfere.  (Actually, I learned later that 
they were so turned-on by the idea of their own son actually 
having TWO little girls to fuck, that they needed some privacy of 
their own, while they fucked their brains out; imagining the orgy 
going on in my bedroom . . . only it wasn't an orgy.)
     For about half an hour, I made out with my big sister.  
After her sexy implications of how she would keep her promise if 
I "didn't have a good time" on Friday nights, I had been having 
quite a few daydreams about finding out just how good Lonnie 
really was to have as a date herself.  Quite good, in fact.




                                61


     Lonnie was a MUCH better kisser than either of the two 
little girls next door . . . almost as good as Betty-Lou, in 
fact.  And she was DEFINITELY sexier.  Her boobs were more 
developed, and she had a wriggle that almost made me cum, without 
even having my prick touched.  Her ass was rounded in a way that 
promised heaven to whoever managed to trap this gorgeous creature 
into having his babies.  (Damn!  A boy just isn't SUPPOSED to 
think of his own sister this way!)
     I was rescued by Suzy, before I got carried away and pulled 
down my own big sister's panties and fucked her right there in 
the living-room, where our parents might have walked through at 
any moment.  Somehow I knew that Lonnie wasn't in any better 
shape than I was at resisting the temptation to fuck her own 
sibling.
     Luckily we were interrupted by Suzy wanting "her turn".  Or 
WAS it luck?  Perhaps not.  Later I figured that Lonnie just 
wanted to "try me out" but wasn't ready to fuck her own brother 
yet; so she had Ginny and Suzy help her, without leaving me 
hanging when she did so.
     "It's MY turn," said Suzy.  "After all, he's MY boyfriend."  
I wondered at this, but didn't deny it.  After all, it was the 
truth.  It was fun dating other girls like Betty-Lou and even her 
little sister Ginny, but Suzy was definitely the one who suited 
me best; for all her being so much younger than me.  Actually, I 
found I LIKED the idea of Suzy claiming me as her boyfriend.  
Maybe Mother was right; and I was missing a bet.  For sure, how 
many OTHER girls were as easygoing as her, when it came to her 
boyfriend playing around with other girls?  (Like her little 
sister, and my BIG sister . . . not to mention Betty-Lou and the 
others.)
     Suzy showed me I was wrong about her kissing.  She had 
improved so much in the last week, she was practically as good as 
my big sister was, and I knew that with a little more practice, 
she would be even better.  What more could a horny boy ask?
     Well, I suppose, for some real sex, of course.  But that was 
"cumming".  <Giggle.>
     After about another 20 or 30 minutes, my sister returned 
with Ginny in tow, and announced, "I don't know about YOU three, 
but I'm going to bed.  Don't stay up too late."  With that, she 
headed back to her own bedroom, and very pointedly shut the door.  
Damn.  I had almost hoped my big sister was going to join us in 
my bedroom.  (Years later, Lonnie told me it took every ounce of 
willpower she had to keep from making it a "menage-a-quatro" with 
the three of us.  If I only had the brilliance to ASK her to 
stay, then she would have.  <Sigh.>  Oh, for lost chances.)
     In the meantime, Ginny snuggled in on the other side of me 
from her big sister, and soon all thoughts of my big sister were 
driven out of my mind by two pairs of sexy hands roaming over my 
body, while two delectably female bodies were freely available to 
MY roaming hands.  It's a wonder I didn't waste my sperm all over 
the couch, instead of up inside the bellies of the two little 
girls who didn't seem to mind the idea of me squirting either or 
both of their tight little slits full of baby-making cum.




                                62


     "We'd better get this 'thing' into the bedroom, before he 
wastes it all over the carpet," giggled Suzy; putting my thoughts 
into words.
     We were about to leave a trail of discarded clothing, on the 
way to my bedroom, but at least Ginny had a lick of sense:  
Telling us to pick the stuff up, and put it in the laundry-
hamper, or everyone would know what we were doing, and where.  
(As if either my parents or hers didn't know exactly what their 
kids were doing together that night.)  Five minutes later I found 
myself in bed with two very sexy, very horny, and VERY naked 
little girls.  I blew my cum all over Ginny's sexy little leg.
     SHIT!  I had WANTED to blow it up inside at least ONE of the 
two little girls' tight little slits.  Now I had really "blown 
it."  I would probably never have a chance like this again.  Both 
girls giggled; embarrassing me still further.
     "It's OK," said Suzy; snuggling her sexy little naked body 
up to me, so my cum dribbling prick was nestled into the crease 
that led to her sex.  "We can wait.  I'm sure there's plenty more 
where that came from."
     She was right.  It took over half an hour, but having two 
sexy naked little girls snuggled up spoon-fashion on either side 
of me finally got my prick erect enough that Ginny was able to 
reach between my legs, and stick it up inside her big sister, 
without any one of the three of us having to move more than an 
inch or so in any direction.  Oh GOD, did that feel good!  The 
tight squeeze of Suzy's little slit milking on my prick was 
almost enough to make me come again, before I had hardly even 
started fucking her.  What a DUMB way to "show off" for the two 
little girls I was starting to love almost more than life itself.  
Especially, when Ginny was watching me so closely, to see that I 
did a "good job" on her big sister, before filling HER womb with 
my sticky sperm.
     By gritting my teeth, I DID manage to hold on until Suzy's 
tight little hole started clamping and squeezing on my prick, but 
not a second longer.  Feeling the little girl lying beside me, 
while her tight little cunny rippled up and down my swollen 
prick, and her little sister watched me breeding her, was too 
much.  Wave after wave of hot greasy sperm rippled through my 
prick, before being spat into the welcoming belly of the 
12-year-old.  God that felt so good to let that rusty load of 
pregnancy-juice go . . . right where it belonged too; into the 
welcoming young belly of a little girl who seemed to be as happy 
about feeling me ejaculate my seed inside her, as I was to feel 
it going.
     The only one who was disappointed was Ginny.  Watching me 
breeding her big sister had gotten the little girl all "hot and 
bothered"; and she was expecting to get her turn.  Only I 
couldn't.  After wasting one big load all over her sexy little 
leg, then spewing what seemed like a gallon of sperm in her big 
sister's tight little slit, I was done for the night.  I did my 
best though; feeling her up, then licking her cute little twat 
until she got at least a little relief.  Towards the end, Suzy 
came over and helped me by sucking on her little sister's 
titties, while I reamed out her sucking little snatch with my 
tongue.  It wasn't much; but it was something.


                                63


     Afterwards, we all collapsed in exhaustion; snuggling up to 
sleep together in my bed.  THAT was probably the most erotic 
thing of all, that happened that night.  Only my poor prick had 
given out on me.  Too much sensual overload, from having THREE 
girls tease me all night, then getting my rocks off twice, in 
less than half an hour.
     Several years later, Suzy's mother pulled out an old record 
at one of her parties and played it; now that she wasn't worried 
about "corrupting" one of her little girls.  Some gal named 
"Rusty Warren" told all kinds of dirty jokes on it . . . .
     The one I remember most, was where one guy had two girls 
with him.  She told the crowd that it, "Costs you twice as much, 
and you're lucky to have half the fun."  That's the way it was 
here.  I had more sex, the times I had either girl alone, than 
when both of them together spent the night with me.
     Not that I was disappointed; far from it.  It's SO sexy, 
erotic, and downright FRIENDLY to go to bed with two little girls 
who aren't jealous of each other; being willing to "share" you 
with the other as much as needed.  I wanted to spend the rest of 
my life like that.
     Towards morning, I woke up with a piss-hard, and when I came 
back to bed, both little girls worked me up until I could fuck 
Ginny properly.  A half hour after that, I managed to fuck her 
big sister again.  Then, I collapsed in exhaustion; and slept for 
another two hours.  This was the first time I really managed to 
notice the differences between fucking the two girls.
     Suzy was wet, loving, and soft and slippery; enjoying a nice 
leisurely screw, until the slow stimulation got to much, and I 
squirted her warm friendly hole full of thick white baby-juice.
     Ginny, on the other hand, was tight, energetic, and nasty; 
mouthing obscene comments in my ear, while she milked my swollen 
prick with her tight little cunny until I was jabbing furiously 
in her; pumping great gobs of hot seed in her gyrating belly.
     I can't really say one was BETTER than the other; only 
different.  Very sexily different.  I didn't know how I was ever 
going to give up either of them.  Still, I wasn't about to marry 
either one right yet, either.  Besides, I still had two more 
girls that Lonnie was going to set me up with.  They deserved 
their chances too.
     (What a change from three weeks earlier, where I was 
wondering if I was ever even going to get a DATE, let alone get 
laid.  Now, I was "giving different girls a chance at me.")  I 
almost felt like some stuck-up snob.  On the other hand, I wasn't 
just going to jump in and marry the first girl who let me in her 
panties either!  (Well, maybe I would . . . Suzy was one HELL of 
a fine catch, as I was finally coming to realize . . . 12-years-
old or no.  So far the other girls were damned good; but Suzy was 
still better than any of them . . . except possibly for her 
little sister.   But 10-years-old?  Naw, I couldn't do that to a 
little girl like Ginny.  She deserved somebody more her own age.)







                                64


     The next morning both my parents poked their heads in; 
telling us, "You kids get ready for breakfast."  There was 
absolutely no doubt about what the three of us had been doing 
though, as both little girls were dribbling thick white drops of 
my thick white cum from each of their tight little slits.  I had 
just finished fucking each of them for the third time that night; 
(Or was it now morning?) this time doing a fairly good job of 
getting each of the little girls off, before filling her womb 
with thick white jets of hot sticky cum.
     For a bit, it almost looked as though I might be fucking my 
big sister too, as she had come by earlier to "help out" by 
talking dirty, while I was fucking the two younger girls.  At 
first it was embarrassing to fuck either girl, with my big sister 
watching; but then her nasty comments about little girls who 
liked to fuck, and nasty boys who like to squirt sperm in 
10-year-old little girls got to be too exciting, so I did it.  I 
fucked both little kids, while Lonnie watched; ejaculating my 
sperm in each of them under my big sister's interested gaze.
     All three of us were about to haul my big sister into bed 
with us, and I was about to show her just what little brothers 
are good for, when she dodged around our reaching hands, and 
headed down the hall to the bathroom to "take a pee," she said.
     Damned lucky she did; though I didn't feel that way at the 
time.  Our parents called us to breakfast about 3 minutes later, 
and if they'd been one minute earlier, it would have looked to 
them like I was fucking all THREE girls.  Dad might somehow put 
up with me fucking the little 12-year-old girl next door; even 
possibly understand me porking her 10-year-old little sister.  No 
way would he ever understand me slipping my prick into my own 
sister though . . . or at least, so I thought then.
     After that incredible night, things slipped back to normal 
after breakfast.  The two girls went back home; and I went back 
to mostly "pulling my pud" when I got horny.  Still, Suzy did 
manage to suck me off twice during the week, and one of the two 
times we actually managed a quick fuck in my bedroom on Thursday, 
while everybody else was outside.





















                                65


                            Chapter 8
                            Date #4.

     That Friday, Lonnie just gave me an address.  It was three 
blocks away.
     I knocked on the door, and waited; then knocked again.  I 
was about to knock a third time, when the door opened, and I 
almost knocked on the forehead of a little girl who couldn't have 
been much older than eight.  She was dressed in an almost skin-
tight outfit that screamed SEX!  A tight little tube-top, and 
short little micro-mini looked completely out of place on an 8-
year-old.  The hard flat eyes measuring me didn't do much to make 
me feel easier.
     "Oh shit!" I thought.  "Lonnie set me up with THIS?"  I 
mean, Suzy was way too young, and if she was young, then what 
about her little sister?  This, however, was getting ridiculous!  
What kind of pedophile-monster did my big sister think I was, 
anyway?  Still, I HAD promised Lonnie I would try.  Only if I 
tried, was I eligible to collect on her "guarantee."
     I almost chickened out anyway.  Horny I might be; I was NOT 
a child-molester.  In any case, I was going to give my big sister 
an earful when I got home.
     "Well?" prompted the girl, in an almost sneering tone.  If 
this was my date, then it didn't augur well for my having a good 
time.
     "Uh," I said, hesitantly, "I . . . we had a date tonight?"
     The little girl looked at me like I was some kind of slime 
that you found under the refrigerator.  Then her face cleared.
     "Oh.  Sorry," she said.  Then, with a void that seemed far 
too old and loud for such a little girl, shouted, "CAROL!  It's 
your DATE!" then slammed the door in my face.  What a . . . kid.  
I didn't DARE put my full thoughts into words.  Carol, huh?  I 
wondered . . . .
     I was right.  It WAS Carol Whittingham.  Yes, the same Carol 
who I had asked three times for a date at school, and who had 
teased me about going out with Suzy on my first date.  The same 
Carol Whittingham who had stuck a dig in at me on my second date, 
until Betty-Lou had straightened her out.  For the second time 
that night, I almost called off the date before it ever started, 
once I saw who it was going to be with.  Only I HAD promised 
Lonnie I would try.  Besides, Carol HAD pointed out that she had 
been unable to see me on those past Fridays because she had been 
working.  On the other hand, why hadn't she offered me another 
night, like Saturday, or something?  I decided to wait and see.  
If the night was a bust, then it was a bust.  Then I would take 
my big sister up on her guarantee, and see how nice SHE could 
make my night.  Still, Lonnie hadn't let me down yet.
     Carol started out by apologizing for her little sister.  
"Sorry Mark," she said, "but Michelle was expecting someone 
OLDER, for her date.  The little slut says that older men treat 
her better.  Can you believe it?  Well, neither can anybody else 
in the family, but we know better than to try and stop her.  
Don't tell anybody this, but I think the little shit is actually 
fucking some of the men she goes out with.  Her manners leave a 
lot to be desired, too."


                                66


     I couldn't say a word.  In the first place, I had already 
fucked a little girl not much older than her little sister, 
(Michelle, it turned out was 9, and dressed to look even younger, 
but like a slut.) so I couldn't put either her little sister, OR 
the man fucking her down.  It was also too much like the scenario 
that I thought Lonnie had set me up for.  "It's OK," I mumbled.  
"I won't tell."
     "Well, it's NOT OK," replied Carol; surprising me.  "You're 
too nice a guy to have to put up with her shit.  Too nice to put 
up with MY shit too, for that matter."
     "Huh?"  Once again, I showed my brilliance . . . NOT.
     "I treated you like a jerk," she explained.  "All those 
times you asked me out, and I begged off.  SURE I work on 
Fridays . . . it's a convenient way to shake off the weirdoes and 
nerds."  Carol raised her hand, when I started to object.  "Yes, 
nerds," she said.  "That's what all the girls called you.  I 
didn't really think you looked all that bad.  In fact, you're 
quite handsome.  So why did I turn you down?"
     I shrugged.  I figured Carol would let me know, if she 
wanted me to.
     "It's because I'm a worse jerk than you were supposed to 
be," she explained.  "I was afraid that the other girls would  
make fun of me for going out with a guy who's a bookworm, and who 
wears glasses.  THEN when you came in with those other girls, and 
THEY all seemed to have a good time with you, like I could have 
been doing, I'm afraid I got jealous.  So I got catty.  Luckily, 
Betty-Lou set me straight, and told me how to fix things.  So I 
talked to your sister, and she set me up for this date.  I won't 
blame you, if you decide you don't want to go out with me, now 
that you know it's me.  Your sister told me to tell me that if 
you decide to leave, once you know the truth, then she'll still 
keep her end of the deal . . . whatever that means.  At least, I 
got a chance to apologize."
     I stared at her stunned.  Carol thought I was handsome?  My 
big sister would stand by HER side of the "guarantee" if I 
decided to call the date off early?  Carol really LIKED me, 
especially enough to apologize to me like that?
     A girl as nice as her, HAVING to apologize?  For almost 15 
seconds I stood there like a dummy; saying nothing.
     "I see," said Carol finally.  "I'll go back home, and you 
can go out with one of the nice girls you already know . . . ."
     "Sorry for taking up your time."  With this, she turned back 
to the door, and started to open it.
     I felt like the heel that Carol must have felt like for 
stepping on ME.  "Wait!" I said; stopping her just in time.  "I'm 
sorry; I just didn't know that a nice girl like you would care 
enough about someone like me to say that.  I like you.  I think 
you're one of the prettiest girls in the class.  That's one of 
the reasons I kept trying to get you to go out with me.  You're 
pretty, and sexy, and intelligent, and you seem to like the same 
sort of things I do, and you get along well with people.  That's 
why I kept having hopes that you might go out with me.  You never 
turned me down flatly, like some of the girls did.  You always 
let me down easy; and never called me a nerd.  Can we start 
over?"


                                67


     Carol actually blushed.  I had heard about this sort of 
thing, but it was the first time I had actually seen it happen to 
anybody.  Her neck turned pink, then the redness ran up into her 
cheeks, and she kind of ducked her head and generally looked 
embarrassed.  "I suppose," she said, "but I'm not sexy."
     I looked at her with astonishment.  Even in the demure plain 
white blouse and knee-length skirt, it was obvious that Carol had 
curves where Suzy or even Betty-Lou didn't have curves.  She 
wasn't the wet-dream come alive that Marsha Swiggins was, but she 
definitely WAS sexy.  I told her so; asking her if she ever 
looked in the mirror.
     Carol blushed even brighter, if possible.  This time, the 
red went up her cheeks and all the way into her hairline. "I'm 
NOT sexy," she said.  "Not really.  Michelle is sexy.  Betty-Lou 
is sexy.  Even your girlfriend Suzy, is sexy.  I'm not.  I can't 
be; or at least, I don't dare be sexy.  If I was as sexy as my 
little sister is, I'd probably be pregnant before two months were 
up.  I'm sorry, but I don't dare."
     I pointed out to her, that being sexy did NOT have to mean 
that you had sex, like it was so obvious that her little sister 
did.  Being sexy was in how you looked; and more importantly, 
acted.  Being sexy did NOT mean that you had to have sex.
     Carol agreed, but, "I STILL can't be sexy.  I don't DARE to 
be.  If I did, especially around a nice guy like you, then it 
would just be teasing you.  I couldn't do that to you.  It 
wouldn't be fair.  Do you still want to go out with me?"
     I pointed out to Carol that a guy didn't have to have sex 
with a girl, to have fun.  MANY times I had sat alone on previous 
weekend nights, just dreaming about having the chance to be out 
with a girl on a date; talking to her and enjoying her company, 
without expecting to get in her pants.  We could still have a 
good time together, even if we never did do anything sexually.  
And that's what happened.
     Carol and I went to the movies together.  It wasn't hard to 
find a new movie that we both hadn't seen, that appealed to both 
of us; unlike some girls.  Carol insisted on paying her own way 
into the movie; over my objections.  She said it wasn't fair to 
me to have to pay, when I wasn't "getting anything" out of it.
     When I pointed out that I was having a good time, she 
replied that she was too.  She DID let me buy her a snack at the 
restaurant afterwards, though.  All through the movie I was more 
aware of the living breathing girl sitting next to me, sometimes 
with her hand in mine, while the hijinks on the screen kept us 
both in stitches.  Carol even seemed to get all the "inside" 
jokes that I thought only horny boys knew.  I found myself with 
an arm around her shoulders, as we shook together in laughter.  A 
comedy had been a VERY good choice for a movie.  Only once during 
the movie did I find that my hand had somehow ended up on Carol's 
bare leg, but she just firmly reached down and moved it to a more 
innocent spot, without being obnoxious or even pointed about it.  
I wasn't even annoyed.  In fact, it was quite pleasant to go out 
on a date without worrying about whether I could "perform" up to 
the girl's expectations.




                                68


     Somehow in our chatter during the movie and afterwards in 
the restaurant, I came to the conclusion that Carol DID know just 
how well I had been doing with Suzy and Betty-Lou.  Not only 
that, but I think she knew about Ginny too.
     It was in the restaurant (yes, the same one) that I also 
found out how Carol had gotten off that night . . . she had 
gotten Betty-Lou Harris to stand in for her!  It seems the two 
girls did this all the time, when Carol wanted to go out on 
Fridays.  Then, other nights, she would return the favor for 
Betty-Lou.
     At the restaurant, Carol left to go to the restroom for a 
few minutes.  When she returned, she slipped something soft, 
white, and slightly damp in my pocket.  "I decided that NEXT 
time, I WAS going to be sexy . . . for you," she said.  These are 
a promise . . . if you can promise to wait that long.  I am STILL 
not the type of girl who fucks on the first date."  I didn't have 
to pull them out to know that the soft white cloth was Carol's 
plain white cotton panties.
     I almost wanted to sing all the way back to her house, and I 
was whistling all the way home; in spite of the fact that while 
Carol DID kiss me at the door, and even properly on the lips, the 
kiss was almost as chaste as holding hands, compared with those I 
had shared with Betty-Lou or Suzy . . . or even Ginny, for that 
matter.  Still, I was NOT unhappy.  Maybe I hadn't gotten laid, 
but four weeks earlier I would almost have killed to have a date 
even half this good.
     For the third time, I ended up at home, with a girl's 
panties stuffed into my pant's pocket.  I was getting to be quite 
a collector of sexy girls' panties (and it was completely 
unintentional . . . at least, on my part it was).  Now I had FOUR 
panties in my secret stash.
     "Now, I owe you FOUR," I told Lonnie.  My big sister just 
smiled, as if she knew something I didn't . . . .
     Well, she did.  I just hoped I could afford whatever she 
wanted, because it would be hard refusing my big sister anything, 
after this.


     You'll find this hard to believe, but the following week i 
got laid precisely once each day; starting with a quick fuck from 
Ginny on Saturday afternoon, and followed by an equally quick 
liaison with Betty-Lou on Sunday.
     The rest of the week, Ginny and Suzy traded-off each night, 
with a quick fuck after supper, before one or the other of us had 
to be off to some previous engagement, or do homework or 
something like that.  Not one was a real date, and only on 
Wednesday did I even manage a quick 69 with Ginny to get HER off.  
Not that any of the girls didn't get off when I did, it's only 
that one day that we had even a LITTLE time for something extra.
     It all seemed so "arranged" somehow; as if all three girls 
were making sure I didn't suffer from "lack of sex" until my next 
date.  Well, perhaps it was.  I only jacked-off twice during the 
week.




                                69


                            Chapter 9
                            Date #5.

     On the last Friday of the five that Lonnie had promised to 
"set me up" on a date, I ended up in front of a driveway where I 
felt completely out of place.  I mean, houses like THIS one, you 
didn't see except in movies.  Certainly boys like me didn't date 
girls who lived in four-story houses, with long drive-through 
driveways, with gates at each end, and almost 10 acres of 
manicured and landscaped lawn around the house.  I felt like some 
kind of impostor.  Heck, I didn't even KNOW any girls whose 
family was rich enough to live in a place like this on.  Heck, it 
probably cost two or three million easily.  Through the trees I 
could even see a private dock and boathouse.  I almost chickened 
out and went home.  Only my promise to Lonnie to at least TRY 
with WHOEVER she set me up with, stopped me . . . .
     Besides, Lonnie hadn't let me down yet.
     When I ran the doorbell, and a BUTLER answered, I KNEW I had 
the wrong house.  I mean, NOBODY affords butlers these days.  
Certainly not anybody I knew, or who would be willing to go out 
with a peon in an old Chevy, like my father had loaned me.  "Uh," 
I started to stammer an apology to the butler, and sneak out.
     "You must be Master Mark, that Miss Marsha was talking 
about," said the butler in an almost unbelievable British accent.  
(I learned later that it WAS a fake; put on just like part of his 
uniform.  Danforth, [Dan, in private] was paid to ACT like a 
butler, so he did.)  "Please follow me.  Miss Marsha will be down 
shortly."
     "Down?" "Miss Marsha"  I didn't know anyone named "Marsha" 
except . . . no, it couldn't be.  The "down" part, became obvious 
as the butler led me past an enormous grand staircase, like you 
only see in movies.  Oh shit!  What had Lonnie gotten me into 
THIS time?  First making out with under-aged little girls, and 
then the sexiest slut in three major cities.  (No; I was NOT 
running Betty-Lou Harris down.  She WAS the sexiest slut in two 
states, and proud of it.)  Now, it looked like my big sister had 
set me up with (of all people) the "Ice Queen."  The sexiest girl 
in the sophomore class, who had the reputation of teasing 
everybody, but putting out for no-one.  A died-in-the wool, cock-
teasing bitch.
     Marsha wore sexy outfits to school, that while perfectly 
legal, showed more of the curvy body underneath, than should be 
allowed on any planet occupied by horny boys like me.  I knew I 
wasn't the only boy in my class, or two classes ahead of and 
behind her, that had jacked-off more than once thinking about 
what Marsha Swiggins had up under those short little dresses of 
hers, or how her sweet red lips would feel wrapped around my 
swollen cock.  Well, at least ONE mystery was solved.  I now knew 
how Marsha always looked like she had just came from a beauty-
parlor . . . she probably had.  From the look of this mansion, it 
could easily hold 20 or 30 servants, and a hairdresser would fit 
in quite nicely.  For sure, even if she didn't have a personal 
one, daily trips to the salon would be pocket-change to her 
family.  No wonder she could afford to look down on peons like 
me.


                                70


     I wondered just how Lonnie was going to explain THIS, when 
Marsha gave me the cold-shoulder, when she learned I was just the 
Mark who was in the class behind her; not even a sophomore yet, 
and certainly not in HER league.  Well, I only hoped she would be 
nice about it . . . .
     Though with Marsha Swiggins' reputation of being the "Ice 
Queen" I doubted it.  Then I thought it over.  Marsha REALLY only 
had the reputation of being a "nice girl" who liked to dress sexy 
(thus getting the reputation of a tease).  Just because she 
didn't "put out" didn't mean I couldn't have a nice time.  Heck, 
look what had happened the other week, with Carol.  I decided to 
give Marsha a chance . . . even if she WAS rich.  (And a damned 
good thing I did, too.)
     I EXPECTED Marsha to come "sweeping" down the staircase, in 
some long fancy gown, and give me the cold-eye, when she saw I 
wasn't dressed to kill, like she would be.  Heck, the suit the 
butler was wearing, I knew cost more than my entire wardrobe, and 
HE was just a servant!
     Well, my date came down that long staircase all right, but 
not "sweeping" in a long robe.  You won't believe this, but 
Marsha came SLIDING down the banister; wearing a micro-mini that 
blew up when she did, so I could actually not only see her 
panties underneath the short skirt, but could see right up to her 
bare bellybutton above it!  "Wheeeeee!" She said; barely jumping 
off in time to avoid running into the post at the bottom, and 
stumbling a bit so she ended up right in my arms.
     I found myself with an armful of cute, wriggling, barely-
dressed, and VERY sexy girl!  And instead of pulling away, and 
giving me the "cold eye" like I had expected, Marsha actually 
SNUGGLED into my embrace, as if we were old friends, and just 
pulled her dress down enough to be barely "decent," while asking, 
"Hi Mark.  Isn't it FUN to slide down a banister?  Daddy had them 
build THIS one, just for me, when I was a little girl.  He knew I 
liked it then, and I still do."
     Danforth commented gravely, "It's not very refined, to slide 
down the banister, Miss Marsha.  Your mother would have a fit, if 
she knew you were doing it in front of guests."
     "Oh piddle!" said Marsha.  "Mark here is my friend, and my 
date, who's taking me out tonight.  I don't have to be refined 
with HIM, now do I?"  Here, the girl gave me such a sweet smile 
that I couldn't have denied ANYTHING she said.
     "No," I choked, "you don't."  Even the SMELL of the girl was 
fit to dive you wild.  She smelled so fresh, so clean, and yes, 
so SEXY.  Not to mention her looks, with smooth mouthwatering 
mounds on her chest; big enough to look sexy, but without being 
so big as to look overbearing.  Her rounded hips, and long bare 
legs below the micro-mini . . . .
     "DOWN boy," I told myself, "or you'll be getting your face 
slapped, like so many other boys did."  I could see how, with her 
sexy look and actions, how so many boys in the past might have 
been tempted to make passes at this gorgeous creature.  
Especially, as with all her wealth, she didn't seem to have a 
pretentious bone in her body.




                                71


     No wonder the boys called her the "Ice Queen."  With all 
that sexiness, then it was no wonder some of the guys made passes 
at her.  Ones she probably didn't want.  So, she got the 
reputation for teasing, but not putting out.
     At least, nobody that I had ever heard of, had ever bragged 
about getting in Marsha Swiggins' cute little panties.  So, it 
was assumed she liked to leave boys with blue balls.  Which just 
goes to show what assuming things does for you.  (Yes, I'm sure 
you've heard the "ASS-U-ME" joke.)
     Before I realized it, we were chattering gaily together like 
old friends, and somehow I found myself opening my father's car 
door for her like a princess.  Marsha climbed in, like the jalopy 
was a royal carriage.  With HER inside, it almost was.
     So, we headed for the drive-in, just like my first date.  
Only I didn't expect to have the same luck with Marsha, that I 
had with Suzy.  I mean, I figured Marsha had to have gotten her 
reputation of "Ice Queen," somewhere.
     It helps to make plans. One reason I liked to use my 
father's car for taking a girl to the drive-in, was that it's one 
of those FEW convertibles left on the road.  When I had taken 
Suzy, the night had been colder, and besides, I hadn't wanted to 
embarrass either her or me, by calling attention to the fact that 
I (a high-schooler) was taking out a kid.  (OK! Suzy is NOT a 
kid!)  Tonight was warm and humid, so I fought the top down, 
before I picked Marsha up.  It is NOT impressive to manually take 
down or put up a convertible-top, when you're on a date.
     I wondered why the line was so short at the entrance, which 
boasted, "FIVE nights a week, rain or shine!"  Uhuh.  You guessed 
it.  I hadn't checked the weather-forecast, like so many people 
obviously had (those who stayed away that night).  We had hardly 
been there more than 20 minutes, and the trailers and cartoon had 
just finished, when a big drop hit me on the nose.  Damn.  Well, 
that's the reason for convertibles, right?
     You guessed it again.  The damned thing stuck.  By the time 
Marsha and I had struggled together to get the top up, we were 
both a mess.  She had slipped in the mud; getting gray goo up her 
knee, and I had fallen down trying to help her, so I was a MESS, 
with gray slop coating the front of both pants and shirt.  THEN, 
the wind started to pick up.  With both of us hanging on, we 
managed to fight the now unstuck top down to where it would 
fasten.  But by then, neither of us were in a mood to watch the 
rest of the show.  Thank goodness we had at least seen the 
cartoon.
     Now you MIGHT think that being soaked to the skin, losing a 
heel from her shoe, and having mud-streaks down her leg, (not to 
mention being chilled by the wind blowing through our wet 
clothing) would make Marsha so pissed-off at me, that she would 
never speak to me again.  Only you would be wrong.
     For all her reputation as the "Ice Queen", Marsha was VERY 
friendly.  In fact, seeing me fighting to get the top down, then 
working WITH me to get it down while fighting the wind to keep it 
from being ripped (and incidentally, me from my father's wrath if 
I HAD gotten it ripped . . . canvas tops are EXPENSIVE) had 
somehow worked us into a camaraderie that would probably have 
been difficult to accomplish just by watching some stupid movie.


                                72


     I took her back to her house; apologizing all the way.  Only 
Marsha wouldn't let me.  You see, she HAD watched the news, and 
even the weather report, and hadn't thought anything about it 
until we got drenched.  First thing I knew, Marsha was 
apologizing to ME.  When we both stopped to listen to each other, 
this led to a good laugh on both our parts.  Then, Marsha started 
apologizing to me AGAIN.  It took me a while to figure out what 
for.
     It seems that she and Betty-Lou were VERY good friends.  If 
a guy was nice to Betty-Lou, then, and ONLY then, would Marsha go 
out with him.  This meant that Betty-Lou got lots more dates than 
she otherwise would, and Marsha got guys who were nice enough to 
treat a rather plain girl nicely.  Only nice guys need apply.  
THAT is why she had previously turned me down, and acted so 
frosty to me . . . she had figured I was just another guy trying 
to get in her pants.  Being rich, intelligent, AND beautiful had 
its drawbacks, it seems.  Too many guys were out either for her 
money or her body.  So she and Betty-Lou had worked out a system 
between them.
     Betty-Lou didn't mind being fucked, just to get fucked.  She 
LIKED to have nice guys take her out, but she liked just plain 
nasty sex too.  So, all the guys who tried to date Marsha got 
subtly (or sometimes NOT so subtly) steered to Betty Lou.  If 
they treated the class slut nicely, then Marsha would give them a 
chance to treat HER nicely.  A few (very few) didn't make the 
second cut.  Thus, the reputation of the "Ice Queen" who went out 
on dates, but never put out.  Marsha DID put out, it seems, but 
only to those who wouldn't tell.  In other words, NICE guys.
     And it seems that I was in the lucky position of having 
gotten the best recommendation from THREE girls, that Marsha had 
ever gotten.  Uhuh, Betty, Carol, AND my big sister Lonnie.  So, 
Marsha had been planning on going with me to the drive in, (yes, 
the traditional "make-out" place) to seduce ME.  Only neither of 
us had paid any attention to the weather-report.  Shit.
     Well, THIS louse-up I couldn't take out on my big sister.  
After all, I had promised to give my date a GOOD time, not a wet 
squishy broken-heeled mess of a washout.  Even though Marsha 
didn't seem to be mad at me, it sure wasn't HER fault either, 
that I didn't "have a good time."
     Only I was being too hasty.
     When we got back to her "mansion" (as I was tempted to call 
it) Marsha invited me IN, instead of waving good-bye, and sending 
me home.  To say I was astonished would be putting it mildly; 
flabbergasted would be the more correct word.
     The butler was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Marsha's 
parents.  It seems that servants don't work all night, and 
Marsha's parents had taken the opportunity of their daughter 
being on a date, to have a little "private-time" out themselves.  
Marsha and I were all alone in that big house.








                                73


     Marsha led me in though a side door.  It seems she didn't 
want to annoy the maid, by making a mess of the main 
entrance . . . good maids, it seems, are as hard to find as good 
butlers.  Once inside, she immediately started to strip out of 
her clothes, as casually as if she got undressed in front of ALL 
of her dates like that.  If I was astounded at her letting me 
come inside, what can I say about THIS?
     "Well, hurry up," she prompted me; pointing to the waiting 
washing-machine where she was tossing her clothes.  "If we hurry, 
the clothes will be dry by the time you have to go home."  Marsha 
stood there, naked as a jaybird, with both hands on her hips, as 
if I was retarded to not see the obvious.
     Well, retarded I'm not; easily embarrassed, I am.  Still, if 
you thought I would "chicken out" of getting undressed in front 
of the sexiest girl in high-school, when she had already shown 
HER nerve by doing it first, then you don't understand how 
"macho" image works.  No way could I let a girl show me up.  
Besides, she was being too damned friendly about it, as if being 
naked in front of boys like me happened every day with her.  How 
could I act any less confident?  Still . . . .
     "You're sure about this?" I asked, as I peeled off a soggy 
sock, before starting on my trousers.
     Marsha looked at me with astonishment for a minute, then 
suddenly giggled.  "Oh," she said with amusement, "I guess it 
DOES look like I was inviting you to . . . ."
     Here she burst into a REAL set of giggles.
     I paused; looking through the neck of my shirt I had half-
off, and looked at her in dismay.  Had I been assuming too much?
     "I'm sorry," she said; giggling, "I should have THOUGHT how 
it looked to you.  I was just trying to get our clothes dried 
out.  I wasn't trying to seduce you."
     Shit.  Still, she DID sound honest.
     "Though," she said; suddenly taking the sting out of it, "we 
might get around to that later."
     HOPE!  I was NOT going to force things by asking HOW much 
later.  Maybe I should have pushed things, considering what 
happened.
     Ten minutes later, Marsha and I were sitting in the kitchen; 
listening to the washer making gurgling noises from the laundry-
room, while we both sipped steaming cups of hot chocolate.  We 
were both wrapped in ENORMOUS towels, but nothing else.  I must 
say, the towel looked a LOT better on Marsha than it did on me.  
She had it wrapped around her like a sarong, and she wore it like 
a queen.  I couldn't help but let my eyes follow her everywhere 
she went.  And to my delight, Marsha didn't seem to mind.
     She had only gotten the towels to wear, because she thought 
we might be "more comfortable" drinking chocolate in them, while 
the clothes washed.  To my joy, she hadn't retired to another 
room to get dressed; simply wrapping her nude body with the towel 
right in front of me; as if she didn't mind my seeing her nude or 
not-nude.






                                74


     With the hard-on I was soon sporting, it's for certain I 
felt more comfortable with something to hide it.  Only I think 
Marsha knew what I was hiding under the towel; as her smiles over 
the steaming cup in her hand couldn't have been all for my wit.  
I was too busy looking at her, and talking about various things 
like the books I read (obviously she HAD been talking to Betty-
Lou) why I still drove my father's car, instead of one of my own, 
and even about the dates my big sister had set me up on.  (No, I 
did NOT tell her I had been having sex with them; and she didn't 
pry either.  I guess she knew if I was going to keep my liaisons 
with HER to myself, she couldn't expect me to blab about others.  
Only she seemed to know an awful lot anyway.)
     Just about the time we finished the chocolate, the washer 
also finished with a thump.  Marsha grabbed our clothes out of 
the washing machine, and threw them in the dryer, THEN she 
grabbed the towel from me and her, and threw them both in the 
now-empty washing machine, and started it up again.
     I watched in astonishment as, naked as the day she was born, 
Marsha Swiggins, the "Ice-Queen", the most beautiful girl in the 
sophomore class, walked towards the main part of the house.
     "Well?" she prompted me; looking over her shoulder, "aren't 
you coming?"
     For the next 20 minutes, Marsha led me on a tour of the 
house.  From the basement, with the furnace and hot-tub, to the 
cupola above the attic, with the weather-station just outside the 
window.  Somehow, (and somehow I was not surprised) we ended up 
in HER bedroom, where she walked into her own private bath, and 
started taking a shower!  To my astonishment (again) she held 
open the shower-door, and invited me in with a gesture.
     No, we did NOT fuck in the shower.  We DID clean each other 
off though.  It's surprising how dirty that escapade in the 
drive-in had left us, even underneath our clothing.  It's also 
surprising just how FRIENDLY it is, to bathe with a friend (not 
to mention how erotic).  Afterwards, we dried each other off, and 
ended up sitting on the bed together.  This led to hugging each 
other, then more than hugs, as you might imagine.
     "If you ever tell ANYONE that you stuck your nasty old peter 
in Marsha Swiggins' hole, I'll not only deny it, I'll make you 
the laughingstock of the whole school," she said, as she fit the 
head of my prick up against her sopping wet hole.  Even after 
drying with the towels, she was wet again, and I knew it wasn't 
from the shower, either.  I knew she could do what she threatened 
too.  Not that I WOULD tell anyone.  I liked her FAR too much 
already to do such a thing.  Besides, I had hopes of repeating 
this; or at LEAST retaining her as a friend.
     Surprisingly, even as I tried to fit my prick up inside her, 
I found that I wanted her as a friend even MORE than I wanted to 
fuck her.  And I was almost ACHING to do that!
     Well, if everything went wrong at the drive-in, why should 
things go right afterwards?
     "SLAM!"  The whole house shook, as the front door closed.  
It seems that Marsha's parents got rained out too, and were home 
early.  SHIT!  And here I was, in their daughter's bedroom, with 
not a stitch of clothing anywhere near.  Talk about being fucked, 
without getting fucked!


                                75


     Only Marsha was not scared; merely annoyed that she didn't 
get to finish.  "I'm NOT letting you get away like this," she 
whispered fiercely.  "You're coming back tomorrow night, and 
we're doing this right, you promise?"  All the while, she was 
leading me hurriedly down the hall to another bedroom, and 
wrapping me in another of those enormous towels.
     What could I say?  This was CERTAINLY not the time to make 
her mad.  Besides, I WANTED to finish what we had started.  "Of 
course I will, if you want me to," I whispered back.
     Marsha gave me a kiss so hard it almost bruised me.  Then 
she was gone.  Three minutes later she was back with my (now dry) 
clothes, and whispered, "I told Mom and Dad about how we got 
rained out, and that I had put you here in the guest-room, while 
I got your clothes dried.  None of it's a lie, but you don't have 
to tell them the rest.   OK?"
     "OK."
     That got me another numbing kiss, before Marsha carefully 
wiped the lipstick from my face with the corner of the towel.  I 
hurried to get dressed, before her parents came by and found me 
naked in front of their "innocent" little girl.  Somehow Marsha 
had managed to get dressed herself.  Though, with the skimpy 
outfit SHE wore, maybe it's not so surprising.  She looked almost 
sexier in the short little mini, than she had naked . . . almost.
     Twenty minutes after that, I found myself back in Dad's 
car . . . alone.  Damn.  In the time between, Marsha had more 
formally introduced me to her parents, and we had a nice talk 
about who I was, and what I did, and where I was in school . . . 
all things that normal concerned parents would want to know about 
the person their daughter was going out with.  I THINK they liked 
me; but I'm not completely certain.  For sure they were polite.  
And if they had any idea of the fact that I had been spending the 
last hour in their house completely naked, with their also-
completly-naked nubile young daughter, they never even hinted at 
it.  Somehow I got the feeling that even if they HAD known, they 
wouldn't have mentioned it; as being too "gauche" a subject to 
mention.  As long as Marsha wasn't embarrassed, then neither were 
they.
     When I got home, I found a lump in my pocket.  Wouldn't you 
know it?  The lump was Marsha's panties.  I wondered if it was 
deliberate.  It seemed I was getting quite a collection.  I 
called her on the phone, and told her I still had "something" of 
hers.  When she figured out what I was talking about, she just 
giggled.  "Keep them," she said.  "That way, tomorrow I won't 
have to take them off, when we 'get together.'"  Oh shit again.  
Now I was TWICE as horny.  Knowing that the sexiest girl in the 
whole school is just waiting to feel your big prick slide up into 
her hot little hole, and you can't get together because of a 
stupid rainstorm, is enough to frustrate anybody.  I would almost 
have felt better, if she had turned me down, or turned me 
off. . . almost.  Shit!







                                76


                           Chapter 10
                         The guarantee.

     I was lying cuddled up on the couch, miserable, because my 
date is ruined, and even Suzy is gone; visiting her grandparents.  
Tomorrow, I would have more sex than any teenaged boy has any 
right to expect, with both Suzy during the day, and Marsha that 
night.  But what was I going to do TONIGHT?  I couldn't even call 
in my big sister's "guarantee" because it wasn't her fault we got 
rained-out, or Marsha's parents had come home early.  By my not 
paying attention to the weather-report, I had ruined the date for 
both Marsha and myself.
     Lonnie didn't see it that way . . . .
     I had tried, and that was what counted for her.  My big 
sister had "guaranteed" that I would have a "good time" tonight, 
and she was going to see to it that her little brother did just 
that.
     "You're sure?" I asked, as my sexy sister slid the short 
little dress she had been wearing over her head; leaving her 
dressed in just the same pair of bra and panties she had worn 
that previous Friday . . . was it only four weeks ago?  Dressed 
(or more correctly UN-dressed) like that, Lonnie made all my 
previous dates seem uninspired and pale.  Even Suzy, and yes, 
even Marsha.  Did I mention before, that my big sister is SEXY?
     "Oh don't be silly," she giggled, "of COURSE I'm sure.  Now 
come here Little Brother, and show your big sister just what you 
want her to do."  Oh shit.  I hoped I had learned enough to make 
my big sister happy, like I had somehow managed with my other 
dates.  If I had learned one thing in the past four weeks, it was 
that by doing a good job on your date, you had a MUCH better 
chance of being able to repeat the process.  So far, every one of 
my dates had asked for at least ONE repeat performance.  I wasn't 
about to break the string with my big sister.
     Only Lonnie had been dating for years, with some of the 
biggest studs in her class.  I could only hope I didn't show up 
TOO badly, next to them.  Lonnie was so sexy, I had a hard-on, 
just looking at her.  (OK, I had a hard-on, from before she even 
got home . . . so what?)  At least, she would know that I thought 
she was sexy.
     "Oh wow!" she said, dispelling my worst fears, "my Little 
Brother isn't so little, is he . . . ?"
     "C'mere, BIG Brother, and show your sister how much you like 
her."  Obviously, I was NOT a disappointment to her, either.  
"So, what do you want to do first?" she asked.
     It was a hard choice, but I had been dreaming about this for 
weeks.  "Can I lick your navel?" I asked timidly.
     Lonnie surprised me, by laughing.  I was so disappointed.  
Here I had thought she might like my licking her there, like Suzy 
did.  Oh well.
     "C'mere, Little Brother," she finally choked.  "I would be 
honored to have a stud like you lick my bellybutton . . . ."






                                77


     "Perhaps, when you get tired of that, you might find other 
places to lick."  Here Lonnie waggled her eyebrows at me in such 
a cute manner, that I had to laugh too, as we fell to the couch 
together in a clinch.  Yes, I DID lick her bellybutton; and yes, 
I licked other places too.  And it was just as much fun as I had 
dreamed it would be.
     My big sister never once objected to any request I made; 
seeming to enjoy each stroke of her body, and each suck, kiss, or 
touch of my hands.  I must have spent over half an hour, just 
examining her nude body, once I managed to remove the bra and 
panties that were obstructing my view.  Somewhat thoughtfully, I 
reached down to the floor where my clothes were lying discarded, 
and stuffed my big sister's panties in my pocket, to add to my 
growing collection.  Lonnie noticed, and this seemed to tickle 
her even more.
     Finally, the feel of naked skin against naked skin was 
getting to be too much . . . I had to fuck.  Not suck, or jack-
off, or get a blow-job, I needed the real thing.
     Lonnie didn't object, but seemed slightly disappointed, when 
I started to nudge my swollen prick, between her legs.
     "You don't want to?" I asked, surprised.  In spite of her 
"guarantee" to do "anything I wanted" I was NOT going to rape (or 
effectively rape, anyway) my big sister, by insisting on vaginal 
sex.  If necessary, I would settle for a blow-job, or even anal 
sex or if necessary, a hand-job, even if I had to do it myself.
     "Oh no!" she said, "I really do want to.  It's just 
that . . ."
     Here Lonnie turned almost wistful.
     ". . . That what?" I prompted.  If she wanted to do 
something else first, then somehow I would contain myself and 
wait.  I didn't know how long it would be, before I squirted my 
sperm all over the outside of her sexy little belly, instead of 
inside it, where it belonged though.
     "I just was hoping my first time would be on my bed," she 
sighed.  "Never mind; the couch will do."
     This time, it was MY turn to smile.  "If that's all you want 
Big Sister," I said, "then let's head for your bedroom, before I 
drop this load all over the carpet, on the way there."
     Lonnie grinned back at me.  Grabbing her clothes, she headed 
for her bedroom, and motioned me to pick up mine as well.  At my 
quizzical look, she said, "We don't know how long we'll be in 
there.  Mom and Dad won't be surprised if you aren't in your bed, 
but if they see BOTH of our clothes scattered all over the 
living-room . . . ."
     I got the point, and hurriedly grabbed my things as well; 
making one last check to be sure I hadn't dropped any telltale 
panties or socks.  I hadn't.
     Two minutes later, I was acting out a wet-dream I had been 
having for the last five years, ever since I learned that boys 
and girls were really different, and my big sister was one of the 
type of girls that most boys just WISH they had for a sister.  
Only the reality of having a sister as sexy as Lonnie, isn't all 
that much fun for most boys.  They never get to fuck them.  I 
mean, you just don't fuck your own sister, no matter HOW sexy she 
is.  Only I did.


                                78


     Yes, I finally fucked my big sister.  I slid my swollen 
peter up her tight little hole, and squirted jet after thick 
sticky incestuous jet of baby-making cum right up inside her 
vagina where it belonged.  At least in this case, I knew I didn't 
have to worry about getting her pregnant, unlike Suzy or her 
little sister; because I knew my big sister had been fucking for 
years, and she obviously knew how to protect herself.
     God it felt good to let that rusty load of baby-juice go!  I 
had been nursing a hard-on for so long, it felt like I must have 
squirted at least three quarts of incestuous cum in Lonnie's 
tight little hole, before I recovered myself enough to apologize 
for cumming so soon, without getting her off too.  And yes, she 
WAS tight.  I couldn't believe how tight she was.  Compared to 
Lonnie, Betty-Lou was a gaping cavern, and even Marsha Swiggins 
was loose and sloppy.  She was at least as tight as Suzy, and 
almost as tight as her little sister.  In fact, she was so tight, 
that she even let out an "ouch" the first time I slid inside her.  
I hadn't realized I might hurt her, being so big, but by then it 
was too late, and I was already squirting thick white gobs of 
sperm inside her tight little baby-hole.  Damn, that felt good.  
Still, I did try to apologize for being in such a rush that I 
hurt her, and came inside her before she had a chance to get off 
herself.
     I felt like a dork, for being so selfish, and I told Lonnie 
that.
     "Oh, don't be so down on yourself," she said.  "In the first 
place, this is supposed to be YOUR night to do whatever you want 
to.  In the second, I understand it's supposed to hurt, the first 
time, and I never heard of any girl who managed to cum then.  So 
I think you did just fine.  I'll be ready to go again, in a 
minute or two, and maybe this time you'll last a little longer, 
so I can really find out what it's like to fuck."
     I felt like I had been hit by a semi.
     Lonnie looked at my sandbagged look and then giggled.  "You 
mean you didn't know?" she asked.  "You thought I had been doing 
this with everybody?  Nope, Little Brother; you're the first.  
I've been planning this for years.  Why do you think I set you up 
on all those dates?  I wanted my handsome little brother to have 
some experience, when he popped my cherry.  This way, there 
wasn't any fumbling around.  I hope you don't mind."
     "But.  But.  But," I sputtered, "but all your dates . . . 
how did you . . . ?"
     "How did I keep them all happy, without fucking?"
     I could barely nod.
     Lonnie giggled.  "There's more than ONE way to keep a boy 
happy, and send him home with empty balls," she pointed out.  "As 
you should know, Little Brother, with all the experience you 
should have by now."









                                79


     "You mean you . . . ?"
     Lonnie nodded.  "Uhuh.  Mouth, ass, and hands.  Even tits, 
and once under the armpit.  Nothing was off-limits, except my 
cunny, and that I was saving for you.  If pressed, I could always 
point out that I wasn't on the pill, and was scared of getting 
pregnant.  Since most of the guys are more scared of accidentally 
getting a girl pregnant, than the girl is, that was usually 
enough.  If it wasn't, tough shit.  I just told the asshole to 
get lost."
     Oh . . . oh!  Oh shit.  "You're NOT on the pill?" I asked, 
knowing the answer.  If she was really a virgin . . . .
     "Nope.  I didn't want to spoil our first time.  Besides, 
Daddy would know I was fucking, if I asked to go on the pill.  I 
didn't want him worrying about that, especially, since I wasn't."
     "When was your last period?" I asked, somehow knowing what 
the answer was going to be.
     "About a week and a half ago," she replied.  "If I'm lucky," 
she observed, "your little sperm might be getting me pregnant 
right now."
     "Oh shit," I thought.
     "Oh don't worry," she said.  "It isn't all that likely 
anyway, and besides, if I'm going to get pregnant tonight, I 
already am.  So come here and show me the rest of what you've 
been learning.  Maybe if I'm lucky, I can learn how to cum, while 
you're fucking me . . . please?"
     What could I say . . . she was right.  And as for learning 
how to fuck, Lonnie was at LEAST as hot a girl as Suzy was.  If 
that little girl could learn how to cum while being fucked, on 
her first night, then I was sure my big sister could.
     I was right.  Before the night was over, I had left six more 
healthy helpings of incestuous sperm wriggling up inside my big 
sister's belly in search of her waiting eggs; and Lonnie had 
climaxed more times than I had.  I had felt every  square inch of 
her body against mine, and had finally put to rest the ache of 
not being able to touch my big sister.  After that, neither one 
of us felt in the least self-conscious in the presence of the 
other.
     It was just slightly before midnight, when there was a quiet 
knock at the door.  For a moment I was afraid that our parents 
had come home early without us hearing them; catching their son 
and daughter en-flagrente-delicto.  Only it wasn't either Mom OR 
Dad.  It was our little sister Chrissie.
     Shit!  If there's one thing I could think of that would be 
worse than getting caught by our parents, it was having our nosy 
little sister catch us doing something we shouldn't.  The amount 
of trouble that little girl could cause if she wanted to . . . .
     Only instead of acting shocked at seeing her siblings in bed 
together, or being gleeful at catching us in a compromising 
position she could tattle on us to our parents, Chrissie seemed 
almost apologetic at disturbing us.
     "Are you two finished yet?" she asked shyly; almost as if my 
little sister was afraid of interrupting us too early.  "Is it my 
turn now?"  For the first time, I noticed that Chrissie was 
completely naked.
     I did NOT get much sleep that night.


                                80


                           Chapter 11
                            Epilogue.

     No, while I eventually DID start fucking my little sister on 
occasion; feeling HER tight little cunny squeezing the sperm out 
of my swollen prick, and up inside her incredibly cute little 
tummy; along with fucking Lonnie on a far more regular basis; we 
did NOT fall into an incestuous orgy every night.  In fact, my 
primary sex-partner was still Suzy; with an occasional bout with 
her little sister; or sometimes even with both of them, like that 
first incredible night they spent over at our house . . . .
     Yes, we DID repeat that several times, including twice, 
where I spent the night with both of them at their house, instead 
of them with me, at mine.  Every once in a while, when the mood 
was right, or one or the other of us had a bad date, either 
Lonnie or I would "guarantee" that the other had a "good time."  
And yes, ONCE, all four of us spent the night together, while our 
parents were out of the house.  (Remember what I said earlier, 
about twice the cost, and half the fun?  This was like that; only 
while I didn't get much sex that night, we ALL had a lot of fun.)
     Yes, I DID get in Marsha Swiggins' cute little panties too; 
(Actually, as promised, she wasn't wearing any.) and she was 
almost as good in bed as her friend, Betty . . . almost.  We had 
several dates, and then things tapered off, as my relationship 
with Suzy became . . . shall we say, "more obvious."  No, Neither 
Marsha nor Betty-Lou, nor even Carol was jealous of the little 
girl.  (Yes, I had several more dates with her too; and yes I DID 
leave quite a few helpings of thick white cum in HER sexy little 
[Yes, unprotected, believe it or not.] tummy as well, over those 
several dates.)  It's just that they were all more interested in 
getting a man of their own, than they were in sharing me with a 
13-year-old.  Even after we got married though, twice one or the 
other invited me over for a "date" where we never left the house.  
And yes, Suzy knew where I was going, and even encouraged me to 
go.  She's no more jealous than I am.  Thank goodness there were 
no OTHER unexpected pregnancies.  (Or at least I assume there 
weren't any, since no one ever complained.)
     Carol?  She married Frank Georges.  You remember . . . the 
guy my big sister was going out with, that first night she "set 
me up?"  Uhuh, him.  Two nicer people getting together, you never 
saw.  And yes, he knows about me and Carol, just like I know 
about him and my big sister.  We're good friends, though I'm not 
too sure he would leave me alone with his wife . . . unless I 
left HIM alone with Suzy at the same time, that is . . . .
     Thinking about it; maybe I will sometime.
     Believe it or not, even with Carol occasionally "taking 
chances" with me and a few of her other dates (She refused to 
carry birth-control; insisting that if she did, that it was an 
admission she PLANNED on fucking that night.) she didn't get 
pregnant until almost a year after her little sister Michelle 
did.  The little shit married a banker almost as rich as the 
Swiggins family, and almost 20 years older than her too.  
Surprisingly, they seem quite happy though.  Maybe the little 
girl really DID know what she wanted, after all.



                                81


     Betty-Lou is STILL unmarried, and her eldest daughter should 
be almost 10 years old by now.  I wonder if she and her mother 
plan to . . . .

     And I still have seven pairs of sexy panties to remind me of 
my first five dates.
     "That's FIVE, I owe you now," I told Lonnie, after that 
first incredible night together, "probably six or even seven, 
counting Chrissie here, because Marsha promised we WOULD finish 
up what we started."
     "Well, actually, probably only four," my big sister replied.  
"You see, if I'm right, that's one LESS that you owe me."
     It wasn't until almost a year later, that I found out what 
she meant.  And that was when my wife Suzy and I were visiting 
her in the hospital.  Suzy's big belly was getting in her way, as 
she sat down to rest, while my big sister and I talked.  We had 
been discussing the hassle we were having getting the adoption 
papers for Ginny's baby, and admiring Lonnie's beautiful baby 
boy.  "You still owe me four more favors like this," she told me; 
lifting up our son for me to hold.
     Suzy showed she can STILL surprise me, by agreeing.  
Surprisingly, my wife is tickled pink, that my big sister has 
chosen this method of "payment" for getting me started on the 
road that led to our getting married.  Since Ginny is going to 
still be staying with us for several years, even after the 
adoption, at least until she gets out of grade-school anyway, it 
looks like I'm going to be one BUSY man.  My sister guarantees 
I'll like it though.
     Only this time, so does my wife, Suzy.
     With women like that, who needs a guarantee?



























                                82
