Ricky Fuld

Chapter Three.
The Wild American Slut

(inc,mm, fist, mast, sal, bbbx)

Lessons went on in their usual orderly fashion. At eleven o'clock there was a break for a quarter of an hour. The girls streamed into the playground. The playground was very large, and was asphalted, and in consequence quite dry and pleasant to walk on. There was a field just beyond, and into this field the girls now strolled by twos and twos. Jenny Weinburg clung to Ruth Craven's arm; she kept talking to her and asking her questions.

 'You needn't reply unless you like, pet,' she said. 'All I want is just to look into your face. I adore beauty; I worship it more than anything else on earth. I was brought up in the midst of it. I never saw anything uglier than my poor old dog when he broke his leg and cut his upper jaw; but although he was ugly, he was the darling of my heart. He died, and I cried a lot. I can't quite get over it. Yes, I suppose I am uncivilised, and I never want to be anything else. Do you think I want to copy those namby-pamby girls over there, or that lot, or that?'

 'You had better not point, please, Miss Weinburg,' said Ruth. 'They won't like it.'

 'What do I care whether they like it or not?' said Jenny. 'I wasn't brought here to curry favour with them. What would my darling father say if I told him that I was going to curry favour with the girls of the Great Shirley School? And what would mother say? No, no; I may pick up a few smatterings, or I may not, but there is one thing certain: I mean to make a friend of you, Ruth - yes, a great big bosom friend. You will be fond of me, won't you?'

 'I like you now,' said Ruth. 'I know you are kind, and you are very pretty.'

 'Why, then, darling,' said Jenny, 'You have a sweet little voice of your own, although it hasn't the dear touch of the accent that I miss so in all the other girls.'

'But you like Miss Tennant don't you?' said Ruth.

 'Oh, yes. Poor little Cheryl! She's very reserved and very, very formal, but she's a good soul, and I won't worry her. But you are the one my heart has gone out to. Ah! that is the way of American hearts. They go straight out to their kindred spirits. You are a kindred spirit of mine, Ruth Craven, and you can't get away from me, not even if you will.'

 The fifteen minutes for recreation came to an end, and the girls returned to the schoolroom. Ruth was in a high class for her age, and was already absorbed in her work. Jenny drummed with her fingers on her desk and looked round her. Jenny was in a low class; she was with girls a great deal smaller and younger than herself.

 'How old are you, Miss Weinburg?' the English teacher, Miss Dove, had said.

 'I am fifteen, bless your heart, darling!' replied Jenny.

 'Don't talk exactly like that,' said Miss Dove, who, in spite of herself, was attracted by the sweet voice and sweeter eyes. 'Say, 'I am fifteen, Miss Dove.''

 Jenny made a grimace. Her grimace was so comical that all the small girls in the class burst out laughing. She was silent.

 'Speak, dear,' said Miss Dove in a persuasive tone.

 'Yes, darling, I'm trying to.'

 'You mustn't use affectionate words in school.'

 'Oh, my heart! How am I to bear it?' said Jenny, and she clasped a white hand over that organ.

 Miss Dove paused for a moment, and then decided that she would let the question in dispute go by for the present. She began to question Jenny as to her acquire-ments, and found that she must leave her with the younger children for the time being. She then went on to attend to other duties.

 Jenny sat bolt-upright in the centre of the class. It seemed absurd to see this tall, well-grown girl surrounded by tiny tots. One of the tiny tots looked towards her. Presently she thrust out a moist little hand, and out of the moisture produced a half-melted peppermint drop. Just for a second Jenny's bright eyes fell upon the sweetmeat with disgust; then she took it up gingerly and popped it into her mouth.

 'Way to go,' she said, turning to the child, and then she drummed her fingers once more on the edge of the desk. Presently she stooped down and whispered to this small girl:

 'I hate school; don't you?'

 'Y - es,' was the timid reply.

 'Let's go out.'

 'But I - I can't.'

 'I must, then. I have nothing to do; the lessons are deadly stupid. Forgive me, girls; you are all blameless;' and the next moment she had left the room.

 Half a moment later she was in the fresh air outside. Her cheeks were hot, her hair in disorder, and her hand, where she had touched the peppermint, was sticky.

 'What would father say if he could see me now?' she thought. 'If Aunty Weinburg was to look at her Jenny! Oh, why did they send me across the cold sea to a place of this sort - a detestable place? Oh, the fresh air is reviving. I was born free, and Britons never, never will be slaves. I can't stay in that horrid room. Oh, how long the morning is!'

 Just then a teacher came out and beckoned to Jenny.

 'What are you doing outside, Miss Weinburg? Come in immediately and return to your class.'

 'I can't dear,' replied Jenny in a gentle tone. 'You are young, aren't you? You don't look more than twenty. Do you ever feel your heart beat wild, dear, and your spirits all in a sort of throb? And did you, when you were like that, submit to being tied up in steel chains all round every bit of you? Answer me: did you?'

 'I can't answer you, Miss Weinburg. You are a very naughty, rebellious girl. You have come to school to be disciplined. Go back immediately.'

 Jenny lay nude on the grass. Her knees were bent and splayed to either side, the soles of her feet drawn up and touching. One hand was between her legs, cupping her mound. Through the damp black curls, the teacher could see Jenny's index finger had disappeared inside of herself.

 The schoolgirl pumped her hand, slowly at first, then faster. Her hips squirmed and she let out a slight gasp as she added her middle finger into her pussy. The other hand wandered back and forth over the small, firm breasts, first brushing the hard nipples and then pausing to flick each one back and forth in turn.

 The teacher flexed her knees, quietly setting her briefcase on the floor. She leaned back against the door frame, her eyes locked on her pupil. She was wearing nothing more than her shoes and a wedding ring. Neither proved any kind of barrier to the schoolgirl's questing fingers.

 Curling fingers gave the teacher full access to her pussy, already wet from watching Jenny. Her nipples were already hard, allowing her to toy with them as she began to imitate the actions of her pupil. She muffled a grunt as she slid two fingers up into her pussy and began to slowly pump them in and out of her. She pressed her palm against her breast, rubbing it around in big flat circles.

 The wild haired American girl punched up with her hips several times as she drove her fingers deeply. Then she slowed and pulled them from her pussy. Lifting her hand, she waved those fingers under her nose, inhaling their scent. She giggled, and then slowly slid one, knuckle by knuckle, into her mouth. She sucked it, and then added the other one. A dreamy smile crossed her face as though the taste of herself was nectar.

 Jenny surprised the teacher again. Her hand crept back down her body and between her legs. Suddenly she slapped her pussy with a quick pop of her hand. Again, and then again she brought her palm sharply against herself. A moan of excitement came from her as her other hand squeezed her breast and her thumb and finger took the stiff nipple and pinched it.

 The teacher abandoned her slightly awkward position and plunged her hand down the front of her crotch, spreading her legs to give herself full access to her own soaking wet sex. Her clit was unhooded and throbbing even before the first touch. She couldn't believe Jenny still had her eyes closed. Her pupil pressed her feet together and arched her back, opening her pussy completely to the quick little slaps she was delivering to herself.

 "Oh, mmmm, God yes," Jenny moaned. She lowered her head to lick her nipple as she lifted her firm little breast to her mouth. She slapped herself sharply, almost hard, once, twice, three times and then began to furiously rub her wide open slit.

 The teacher's own hand was moving so fast between her own legs she imagined she could catch fire was it not for the flood of her juices already flowing from her. She pressed her soaked fingers against her clit, rolling and tapping and caressing it, even as she watched her sexy little pupil do the same thing to her hard pearl. The young teacher sagged against the door frame as the sight of her wildly masturbating pupil made her own efforts at self-pleasure reach heights she had only dreamed of.

 For a minute Jenny thought of pissing in her teacher's mouth, but then she said to herself, 'It isn't worth the fuss,' and returned to her place once again in the centre of the class.

 'I have been called back,' she said in a whisper to her little peppermint companion. 'I was naughty to go out, and I am called back. I am in disgrace. Isn't it a lark?'

 The little girl felt quite excited. Never was there such and big and fascinating inmate of the lower fifth before. It was worth coming to school now to be in the vicinity of one so handsome and so gay.

 The weary morning came to an end at last. The girls seldom returned for afternoon school, generally doing their preparations at home. Cheryl, however, sometimes preferred the quiet school to the noisy life she lived with her brothers at home. She looked now eagerly for Jenny, who had shunned her from the instant they had entered the school; she stood just by the gate waiting for her. Jenny, on her part, was looking for Ruth Craven. Ruth had been monopolised by Cassandra Weldon. 'You must come home with me,' she said. 'But my grandparents will be expecting me,' said Ruth. 'Never mind; we will go round by your cottage and ask them. I know all about you, and I want to know you better. You will, won't you?'

 'Thank you very much,' said Ruth. 'We will go on at once without waiting for the others,' said Cassandra, and they walked on quickly, while Jenny searched in vain for her chosen friend.

  'Come, Jenny; I am waiting,' said Cheryl in a slightly cross voice. 'Mother said we were to be home early to-day.'

 'All right,' said Jenny; 'but I can't find Miss Craven anywhere. 'You can't wait for her now. Indeed, she has gone. I saw her walking down the road with Cassandra Weldon.'

 'And who is she?'

 'The head girl of the school; and such a splendid creature! I am glad she is taking up Ruth. It isn't possible for everyone to notice her; although, for my part, I have no patience with that sort of false pride. Of course, a lot of the foundation girls are very common; but when one sees a perfect lady like Ruth one ought to recognize her.'

 'Of course,' said Jenny, fidgeting a little as she walked.

 'And how did you get on?' asked Cheryl, noticing the dejected tone of her voice.

 'I got on abominably,' said Jenny. 'What class are you in?'

 'I don't know. I am with a lot of babies; I suppose I am to be a sort of caretaker to them. There wasn't anything to learn. I am going to write to father. I can't stay in that horrid school. '

  'Oh, yes, you can. You will get to like it very much after a time. You have never been at school before, and of course you find it irksome.'

 'Is it irksome?' cried Jenny. 'Is it that she calls it? Oh, glory! It's purgatory, my dear, that's what it is - purgatory - and I haven't done anything to deserve it.'

 'But you want to learn; you don't want to be always ignorant.'

'Gosh, then, darling, I don't want to learn at all. What do I want to know your sort of things for? I could beat you, every one of you, and the teachers, too, in some accomplishments. Put me in a sports car, darling, and see what I can do; and put me in a yacht, pet, and find out where I can take you. And set me swimming in the cold sea; I can turn somersaults and dive and dance on the waves, and do every mortal thing as though I were a fish, not a girl. And give me a gun and see me shoot down a dozen or more cinema-goers. Ah! those things ought to be counted in the education of a woman. I can do all those things, and I can mix whisky punch, and I can sing songs to the dear old dad, and I can comfort my mother when her headaches are bad. And I can fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh, no, Cheryl, I am not ignorant in the true sense; but I hate French, and I hate arithmetic, and I hate all your horrid school work. And as an American I never could spell properly; and what does it matter?'

 'Everything,' replied Cheryl. 'You can't go about the world if you are stupid and ignorant.'

 'Can't I?' exclaimed Jenny, and she flashed her eyes at Cheryl and made her feel, as she said afterwards, quite uncanny.

 The Tennants were, after all, not a large family. They consisted of Mrs. Tennant, Cheryl, and two young brothers. These brothers were schoolboys of the unruly type. Cheryl considered them very badly trained. Jenny, however, was much taken by their schoolboyish ways.

 As the two girls now entered the house they heard a loud grunt proceeding from the bedroom; a panting at the same time came from the same room.

 'Oh, dear!' cried Cheryl, 'there are those dreadful boys again. Whatever you do, Jenny, you must not encourage them in their larks.'

 'But why shouldn't I? I like them both. I call David a real regular guy. I am glad you have got brothers, Cheryl. I haven't any; but then I have lots of boy cousins, which comes to much the same thing.'

While Cheryl chatted with Jenny, her brothers Brian and Billy sat on the floor of their bedroom, jacking their rock-hard pricks, eyes locked on an adult magazine that Billy had found in a dumpster the day before. Brian was about to cum, looking at a busty porn star in the book, when Billy interrupted.

"Wait. You gotta see this one mag, it's really weird."

Billy dug the magazine in question out from its hiding place under his bed.

"Really, what's so strange about it."

"See for yourself," Replied Billy, handing Brian the magazine.

"OH MY GOD," breathed Brian as he looked at the first page of the book. The picture showed a man was on his hands and knees - wanking his cock - while another guy pushed his dick into the first man's asshole.

"You think that's amazing, look at this." Billy flipped to another page.

On this page a man was squatting over another man's head, and was shitting into the man's mouth. Brian couldn't believe it; the guy was actually shitting into another guy's mouth! But what Brian found the most shocking was that this was turning him on.

The boy tried to hide it. "You're right; this is a pretty weird magazine."

"You want to try it?"

"Yes!" Brian blurted out, then hesitated, not wanting to look like a 'queer' "Um, I mean, oh, do you mean the fucking one or the shitting one?"

"Both," admitted Billy.

"How do we start?" Asked Brian.

"How about I start by stroking your cock, and you can jack mine."

Billy slowly moved his hand over to Brian's cock and started rubbing it.

"That feels so good," moaned Brian, feeing for the first time another person's hand on his cock.

"You like that?" asked Billy. "How about this!"

Billy lowered his head down to his brother's cock, and began licking up and down the smooth shaft. Brian was at a loss for words:, he'd never felt anything as good as this. He reached over and started jacking Billy's already hard cock. As soon as Billy felt Brian's hand on his dick, he knew it was time he took all of his brother's cock in his mouth. He did, taking Brian's cock in his mouth all the way down to the balls, while at the same time, Billy shoved his middle finger up Brian's tight asshole. This was too much for Brian, and he immediately began to cum, shooting spurt after spurt of jizz into his brother's mouth. When Billy felt the first wave of semen hit the back of his throat, he too had an orgasm, shooting his load all over Brian's hand.

After each boy had finished cumming, Brian said: "That was fantastic!"

Billy lifted his mouth off of Brian's softening dick. "Oh god I know!"

Billy removed his finger from Brian's ass, to find it covered it shit. Billy popped the finger into his mouth, and sucked the brown contents off, savoring the bitter taste.

"You weren't kidding about you wanting to do the shitting stuff, were you," Brian asked, as he watched his best brother remove his now clean finger from his mouth.

"No, I wasn't," replied Billy.

"How's it taste," Brian asked.

"Wonderful, like chocolate pudding."

Out of the corner of his eye, Billy saw his sperm, drying on his brother's hand.

"Let me clean that up for you."

Billy brought Brian's cum laden hand to his mouth, and licked away his own jism. After he finished, the boys climbed up onto Billy's bed, and started to look at the magazine once more. They flipped through page after page of men fucking, sucking, shitting, and pissing.

"We have to try all of this!" Brian said at one point.

The girls by this time had reached the large double bed which they shared in the large bedroom on the first floor.

 'You are welcome to my brothers if you don't toss all your things about in my room,' cried Cheryl. 'If we are to sleep together we must be orderly.'

 'Orderly, is it?' cried Jenny. 'I don't know the meaning of the word. Well, all right, I'm ready.'

 She pushed her fingers through her tangled hair, and, without glancing at herself in the glass, marched out of the room.

 'I wish mother hadn't asked her to come,' said Cheryl to herself. 'The house was bad enough before, but now she will make things past bearing.'

 Cheryl went downstairs to the sound of a cracked gong. The Tennants had their meals in a sitting-room on the second floor. It was poorly furnished, and had rancid old carpet on the floor. Mrs. Tennant, looking careworn and anxious, was seated at the head of the table; her dress was somewhat torn by her over-eager customers. Cheryl entered and took her seat at the foot. Jenny was nowhere to be seen.

  'I have only soup and fish for dinner to-day,' said Mrs. Tennant. 'I do trust Jenny will be satisfied.'

 Cheryl frowned at her mother in some displeasure.

 'We ought to have meat - ' she was beginning, when there came a bang and a scuffle, a girlish laugh, and Jenny, leaning fondly on both the boys, appeared. Mrs. Tennant pointed to a seat, and she sat down. The American girl had a healthy appetite, and was indifferent to what she ate. She demanded two plates of soup, and when she had finished the second she looked at Mrs. Tennant and said emphatically:  

 'I have fallen in love.'

 'My dear Jenny!'

 'I have - with a girl, so it doesn't matter. She's the prettiest, sweetest, bonniest thing I ever saw in my life. I am going to hunt round for her immediately after dinner. I thought I'd say so, for I mean to do it.'

 'Oh, Jenny!' said Cheryl in a distressed voice, 'you really mustn't. You must come back to the school with me. I promised Miss Dove that I'd see you through your tasks. - You know, mother,' continued Cheryl, 'Jenny is not very advanced for her age, and Miss Dove wants to get her into a proper class as quickly as possible; therefore she is to be coached a little, and I have undertaken to do it. - You will come with me, Jenny? I must get back to the school again by half-past two. You will be sure to come, dear?'

 'I think not, dear,' replied Jenny in her most aggravating tone.

 'But you must. - Mustn't she, mother?'

 'You ought to, Jenny,' said Mrs. Tennant. 'You have been sent here to learn. Cheryl can teach you; she can help you very much. She means to be very kind to you. You certainly ought to do what she suggests.'

 'But I am afraid,' said Jenny, 'that I am not going to do what I ought. I don't wish to be good at all to-day. I couldn't live if I wasn't really naughty sometimes. I mean to be terribly naughty all the afternoon. If you will let me have my fling, I do assure you, Mrs. Tennant, that I will work off the steam, and will be all right to-morrow. I must do something desperate, and if Cheryl opposes me I'll have to do something worse.'

 'You are a slut!' said David Tennant, smiling into her face.

 'All right, my boy; I expect I am,' said Jenny; and then she added, springing to her feet, 'I have eaten enough, and for what we have received - Good-bye, Mrs. Tennant; I'm off.'

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