textfiles/sex/EROTICA/M/marie.txt

Marie

The woman you are about to meet is a real person. I emphasize the 
second word -- person. This story is based on verbatim notes taken 
during several interviews, during which she consulted the rather 
detailed diaries she's kept for most of her life. The alterations 
are only to protect identities. The young woman in the story is 
extremely unusual: bright, articulate, thoughtful, mature far 
beyond her years, poised, analytical and gifted with a discernible 
talent for describing people, events and situations. We -- she and 
I -- would like to think her memoirs will be revealing and 
educational. 

CHAPTER ONE 
     [The first time?  No, I don't want to talk about that. Maybe 
later -- I doubt it, though. But not now -- 
     [The first time I liked -- Oh. Okay.]
     I was living in Toledo, on the East Side. There was Dad, Mom, 
my two sisters and my two younger brothers. It was a big old house, 
with brown shingle siding and a little yard. I was -- let's see... 
ten, by a couple of months. It was late May. My birthday is in 
August.
     I was always sensual -- and I don't mean "sexual." I enjoyed 
sensual pleasures: the taste of ice cold pop, the smell of fresh-
cut rhubarb, the shock of fresh snow rubbed on my face, the heat of 
the good sun baking into me. I could lay for hours simply rubbing 
the satin edging on a blanket or close my eyes and nearly faint 
from the ripe smell of popping corn.
     Anyhow, I was ten-and-a-half and finishing the sixth grade at 
St. Cornelius school. We didn't have much money, but Mom clipped 
coupons and Dad worked an extra night job so all of us could go to 
Catholic school. 
     I was a fair student -- I hated to study -- and did alright. 
But in the spring of my sixth-grade year, two things happened.
     For one, I discovered I could write. It was an accident -- 
serendipity is what my phantom stepbrother would have called it -- 
because I wrote a composition on assignment. It was about 
springtime. And I had a teacher, Sister Jannera, who talked to me 
about it. She recognized that I had a talent for words and she took 
it upon herself to encourage this. I can't completely convey what a 
remarkable thing it was. For one thing, I was only ten-and-change; 
for another, I was a girl. This was 1965 in a blue collar section 
of a so-called city not known for its sophistication and she was 
teaching in a Catholic school -- a bastion of conservatism. For her 
to recognize my talent and then encourage it was amazing; no other 
word is really appropriate.
     [My phantom stepbrother? Oh, okay. Mom was Dad's second wife. 
His first had left him -- I think he drove her away -- about six 
years before. My stepbrother, Dan, was -- is, really -- five years 
older than me. He's not just smart; he's scary smart. He -- Oh, 

never mind. He's also very sweet and sexy. And inhibited, 
unfortunately. Anyhow, he used to visit about once a year, from New 
York, where he lived with his mom.]
     The second thing that happened was -- Well, you may have 
noticed I have these tits, hahaha! I started, shall we say, 
"developing," when I was ten -- Anyhow, I wasn't much past ten. By 
May of that year, I had noticeable tits, noticeable even dressed in 
my white starched St. Cornelius blouse and plaid skirt. As a 
shorter than average sixth grader with a "cute" -- I hated that 
word even then -- round little face, they seemed bigger than they 
were.
     Oh, sure, I'd asked about a bra -- at the dinner table, like a 
dope. Dad laughed and said that with a bra, I'd look like I'd been 
bitten by two mosquitoes. Sweet, eh? But by May, I had gen-u-wine 
little tits, not just mounds of baby fat. I remember using the 
Sears catalog as a guide to take my measurements. Sears decreed 
that I needed a 25-A cup at ten-and-change. Of course, there was no 
such thing as a 25-A bra, just those stupid -- and too small -- 
training bras. The rest of me hadn't developed yet, which made my 
boobs more noticeable, since I had a nineteen-inch waist and 
twenty-four-inch hips.
     So, anyhow, every summer, the church held this carnival -- 
lots of games of chance and, of course, bingo -- as a fundraiser 
and there was -- 
     [What? Oh, yeah, that's significant because that's when I 
started keeping a diary. A journal, as my phantom stepbrother would 
put it.]
     Segue to summer. All during the last weeks of school and the 
first weeks of summer, the more 'advanced' boys had been trying to 
get close to me -- or, more precisely, my tits. So here it was, 
late July and the preteen training bra -- the only thing I could 
get that was small enough for my bust measurement -- was just a 
little tight in the elastic for me, especially in casual garb. If 
you recall, cutoff tee-shirts had become popular in the summer of 
'65. That's significant.
     The carnival was only four streets away, but Dad and Mom spent 
a lot of time there. Dad was an electrician and Mom was a great 
little organizer and the tow of them were always over at the 
church. Everyone said they were terrific. Of course, no one thought 
to ask them about the kids -- 
     [Yeah, it is kind of a cheap shot. There's a reason.]
     Anyhow, it was the Thursday before Memorial Day. Back then, we 
didn't have these arranged three-day weekends, Memorial Day fell on 
Saturday, so everyone got beat on the holiday. I couldn't get too 
annoyed, though. We were in final exams and when you finished your 
exam, you were cut loose for the day. I finished my last exam at a 
quarter past eleven on Thursday morning, and after that, I was free 
to enjoy the sudden, midsummer-like heat wave that had hit Toledo. 
     As soon as I got home, I changed into my two-piece suit and a 
cutoff tee-shirt. I pulled on a pair of loose white shorts and 
slipped into my sandals, grabbed my Coppertone, then went down the 
block to Lisa's house. We were best friends, even though she went 
to Rossford Public. She was already finished with school for the 
summer.  Lisa had a big ol' Coleco above-ground pool in the back 
yard, out behind and to one side of the garage. 

     [The tee-shirt? I couldn't wear the halter for my suit in 
public; it was too small. It was this little bit of stretch fabric 
and I would have looked like an advertisement for baby sex. 
Besides, it cut into me and hurt. It's not like I had really big 
tits or anything -- not like later -- but on top of my little-girl 
waist and little-girl hips, even the little boobies I had were 
really noticeable. They seemed bigger than they really were.
     [Look, these days it's not that unusual for a girl to start 
budding when she's ten years old. In 1965, it was pretty rare and 
no bathing suit company provided for it, because people wouldn't 
buy them -- they couldn't admit that their little honey-pies might 
be growing full-size tits that young. And think about this: If they 
wouldn't admit to themselves what they could see with their own 
eyes, how well do you think they dealt with explaining the facts of 
life to a ten-year-old, let alone talking about love, commitment, 
birth control or venereal disease? So in '65, when you grew tits at 
ten, you learned the unpleasant way -- usually, from grubby-
fingered assholes who just wanted to squeeze a boob. Okay?]
     When I got to Lisa's house, Brenda -- her older sister -- was 
just on her way out. Brenda was sixteen and had this terrific 
figure and was real pretty and boys were always after her. She was 
going to the marina where someone was taking her out on a boat for 
a ride on the Maumee.
     Anyhow, Brenda told me Lisa had gone with her mom to the new 
mall, over on Woodville Road, but I was welcome to hang out and 
swim. She left and I took her up on the offer. I figured the place 
was empty, since Jerry -- he was thirteen then -- had a route 
delivering the Toledo Blade in the afternoons.
     I raided their fridge for a beer. Yeah, a beer at the age of 
ten. I'd had sips and even a half a small glass at cookouts at 
home, but I was feeling a bit flaky and adventurous, so I took the 
churchkey and popped a can of Blatz. Then I changed and went out 
back. I was going to get wet and then lay on the picnic table near 
the bushes and start my tan. I'm a lot darker than any of my 
brothers or sisters and I tan well. Besides, I liked just laying 
there and letting the sun soak into me.
     But the bathing suit top was still tight on me and just before 
I went out, I took it off. There was a girl in the seventh grade 
who already had real big boobs and her life was miserable. The 
girls didn't trust her, the boys her own age always giggled and 
older boys were always grabbing her. I remember hoping mine weren't 
going to grow like that.
     Wearing just the cutoff tee-shirt and the bottoms, I went out. 
I slipped into the pool. I knew the tee-shirt would be plastered to 
me, but with the tall bushes all around the yard, I figured there 
was no one to stare. I bobbed around in the pool for a few minutes, 
then got out and lay on a towel on the picnic table. I rolled up 
the bottom of the tee-shirt till my tits were almost showing and 
then just lay there, enjoying the sun's weight. Every now and then 
I took a draw on the beer and eventually emptied it.
     After a while, I rolled onto my belly. The towel bunched up a 
bit between my thighs, but I was feeling too lethargic to do 
anything about it. Besides, one of the folds was right under my 
little pussy and the pressure on my clit felt nice and tingly. 
     Anyhow, I looked around: No one in sight. I pulled off my tee-

shirt and lay flat. The sun was so heavy on me that I dozed off. I 
don't know how long I slept.
     Suddenly, my eyes were open. What had awakened me? I figure it 
was the sound of Jerry putting his bike in the garage, because he 
was striding toward the back steps. He was wearing sneakers, cutoff 
jean shorts and nothing else, if you don't count the newspaper bag 
and the rubber pad for his shoulder, where the strap rested.
     I don't know what possessed me. Probably it was a 12-ounce can 
of beer in a sixty-two-pound body that had been baking in the sun 
for too long.
     "Hi, Jerry."
     He froze in midstep, turned and spotted me. 
     Jerry was 13 and really had a nice build, all lean and with 
his belly like a washboard and he was cute. He had lots of curly 
dark hair -- all plastered down by sweat, at that moment -- and his 
jeans were real tight. I mean, you could practically see his ... 
stuff through them.
     He looked at me, blinked and stared -- and his jeans got 
snugger.
     I liked the way they got tighter. "Would you do me a favor?"
     "Sure, Marie."
     "C'mere."
     He shifted the carrier bag around so it hid the good stuff. I 
was already feeling a definite urge, though, and hiding his crotch 
only left more to the imagination.
     He stopped about three steps from me, standing slightly behind 
me. Didn't matter; I knew what he was looking at.
     "Would you mind putting some lotion on my back?" I folded my 
arms and rested my face on my forearms. I knew that folding my arms 
revealed the sides of my little tits to him and I knew he was 
staring at them.
     I heard the carrier bag hit the grass and then I heard the cap 
coming off the Coppertone. The bottle had been in the hot sun and 
the oil was warm and sensuous. He poured some right in the middle 
of my back, between my shoulder blades. He rubbed it around in 
about a two-inch circle. Shy.
     ""More? PLease?"
     "...sure."
     Slowly, the circle widened. I raised myself slightly to rest 
on my elbows, momentarily revealing most of my tits to anyone who 
was paying attention. And he was paying attention, because the 
spreading of lotion hesitated, then became erratic. I let myself 
back down flat on the towel.
     "Lower please?"
     By now, his hands were wandering closer to my sides. He froze 
for a moment, then more oil hit my back and he started working it 
lower, into the small of my back and down to the beginning swells 
of my little butt. I reached back with both hands and rolled the 
top of my suit bottom down about half-way, maybe less.
     I could hear his breathing as he lightly rubbed the oil on the 
upper slopes of my ass. I flexed my butt a little and his breathing 
got heavier.
     "That feels so good and I feel so lazy ...." I parted my legs 
slightly. "Would you mind doing my legs. I can reach them, but your 
hands feel so good -- "

     " ... sure."
     He started at my ankles and worked his way up my legs. I have 
good legs and always have. He was enjoying kneading the taut 
muscles and I was enjoying the manipulation. I let my legs part 
more when he reached my knees and the higher his hands went on the 
insides of my thighs, the better I liked it and the more my legs 
opened. Part of what I let me like what was happening was that he 
was a little intimidated by it, I was the leader and the agressor, 
so I was in control. This was new and I liked it.
     And then he was massaging the lotion into the smooth flesh 
adjacent to the crotch of my suit ... and his fingers began to 
brush my now-soaked slit through the material. I hummed tunelessly 
and pushed up and back a little. He took the encouragement and 
worked one finger under the edge of my snug suit and began rubbing 
my cunt lips. It felt great. I raised my butt a little, but he 
didn't know what I was seeking.
     "Mmmmmm -- hold your finger right there for a minute," I said. 
He froze, undoubtedly afraid I was going to stop him. Wrong-o, 
Jerry.
     I pressed my cunny down so my clit was rubbed against his 
finger. I gasped, "Right -- there -- is the -- place -- okay?"
     He started rubbing my swollen little clittie and it wasn't 
more than thirty seconds before I was groaning and my hips were 
moving. Another thirty seconds and I was clenched in a tight little 
orgasm. I shook for a moment, then relaxed back onto the towel. My 
hips were still moving and his finger had lost its place. Now he 
was probing my cunt lips, trying to find the opening.
     "Wait, wait, wait," I said soothingly. I reached blindly 
behind me and felt his hard belly, then trailed my hand down to 
catch the waistband of his cutoffs in my fingers. "C'mere." I led 
him around to stand beside the pool table and turned my head to 
face him. The bulge in his cutoffs was impressive. I ran my hand 
down to it and pressed it through the denim. He sucked in a breath.
     "I liked that," I said. "Did you like it?"
     "Oh, yeah!"
     "Do you jerk off?"
     "... I guess."
     "You're not sure?"
     He blushed madly. "Well, sure."
     "What do you think about when you jerk off?"
     I was rubbing my hand back and forth over that promising 
bulge.
     "You know -- doing it."
     "With whom?"
     "Girls."
     "Any particular girls?" I rubbed a little faster.
     "Not really." He was lying.
     "What do they look like?"
     "Y'know -- all grown up."
     "With big tits."
     "Yeah."
     I rolled onto my side. He stared at my tits. I sat up, fought 
off a moment of wooziness caused by the heat of the sun, the heat 
in my crotch and the single beer. His eyes followed my tits, drawn 
to them as if they were magnets. I brought my other hand over and 

unsnapped the waist of his jeans. I tugged the zipper down and then 
pushed his shorts down. He was bare underneath them. His cock came 
out, so stiff it was almost bouncing off his belly. It was a nice 
13-year-old's cock, about five or six inches long and average 
thick. He had some nice soft hair around the base of it and his 
balls looked hard and tight. I gripped his dick lightly -- the 
first time I ever touched a hard, naked penis; I felt a little 
sizzle of excitement run through me -- and began sliding my hand on 
it. His knees began to tremble.
     "Bigger tits than mine, huh?" 
     "You have real nice tits for a kid -- " he blurted. "I've been 
watching -- "
     He suddenly realized what he was saying and clamped his mouth 
shut.
     "So you've been watching me, huh? Looking at my tits, huh?"
     He nodded. I skinned my hand up and down his cock quickly a 
couple of times, then stopped and wriggled out of my bottoms. I sat 
naked in the sun on the picnic table in front of him.
     "Would you like me to jerk you off?" I asked, again gripping 
his dick. "Would you like to touch my tits and my cunt again?"
     He nodded.
     "Then I want you to do something for me." I stood on the grass 
beside him. He was much taller than me. He smelled of sweat and 
Coppertone and excitement.
     "Anything!'
     "I want you to kiss my pussy -- right where you were rubbing 
with your finger."
     "You mean -- with my mouth? Down there?" He sounded dubious.
     I nodded. "Lay down on the picnic table and you kiss me down 
there while I jerk you off."
     "I dunno," he said. "I can jerk myself off."
     "So can I, but I can't lick my own pussy."
     "And I can't suck my own dick..." That sudden boldness 
surprised me, but not enough to put me off. His hands were 
wandering over my tits. He was surprisingly gentle after the first 
careful squeezes -- testing their firmness -- and his caresses were 
exciting me even more. When he began playing with my nipples I 
decided.
     "Alright," I said. "I'll suck you and you suck me."
     He nodded and stepped out of his cutoffs, then climbed on the 
picnic table and lay back on the towel. His dick throbbed furiously 
in the sunlight as I climbed over him, facing his feet. I straddled 
his chest with my knees and back up. He was so much bigger than I 
that my legs were quite wide open. I felt his hot breath on my 
mound and stretched forward till his dick was touching my mouth.
     He began to kiss and lick my cunt and I gasped and opened my 
mouth. He hunched his hips up and about half his hard teenage dick 
was in my mouth. I closed my lips around his dick as he closed his 
hands around my little butt and then I closed my eyes and sucked 
for oil. I didn't know -- then -- all the little movements that 
make a good cocksucker, but this kid didn't notice. I put my hands 
on his hips to moderate the thrashing of his fucking movements and 
sucked and pulled with my lips. I knew it was going to be about 
twenty seconds before he came.
     Even so, I started cumming first. He didn't know anything 

about cunt licking, but he knew how I responded the first time his 
tongue brushed my clit and he knew I sucked harder when he did 
that, so he got a liplock on the little bud and went to town, 
trilling his tongue tip over it as fast as he could. 
     I started cumming and didn't stop, not even when he worked one 
finger into my cunt. I felt a little tension and a moment of 
discomfort, nothing more, and I was distantly surprised it hadn't 
hurt more. But since I was on top and I wasn't being controlled or 
forced or anything -- well, it really didn't bother me. On the 
contrary -- my pussy grabbed that finger and squeezed it. I came 
then as I cum now: clenched and almost frozen, bucking toward the 
source of pleasure -- in this case, his lips and tongue and finger.
     The combination of that finger-fucking and his prolonged 
arousal along with my desperate sucking sent him over the edge. His 
hips jerked, driving half his dick into my mouth, and then he was 
cumming. I hadn't planned to swallow, but there was no escape 
before he started to flow and I swallowed by reflex and then the 
deed was done, so I kept at it. His semen was so thick!
     I was sucking and cumming and he was licking and cumming and 
both of us were moaning and cumming. I kept swallowing -- it was 
swallow or drown -- and he kept cumming, more than I'd suspected 
was possible. When he finally stopped spurting, I sucked as hard as 
I could and from somewhere in his teenage balls summoned forth a 
last gob of sperm. He groaned and his hands fell away from my butt 
as I released his spent -- but still half-hard -- dick from my 
spermy lips. 
     I lay sprawled on him in the hot sun for a few minutes, my 
pussy backed against the underside his chin and my hips slowly, 
languidly revolving. His dick stayed half-hard against the side of 
my face.
     Finally I climbed off him and got down to the grass. It felt 
crinkly and warm between my toes. I was still tingling. 
     He sat up slowly, as if exhausted. His face was slick with my 
juices, as were the insides of my thighs. I gathered my stuff -- 
and the empty Blatz can -- and turned to him. He was climbing down 
from the table. "I need to clean up, Jerry. Can I use the shower in 
the basement?" I knew about it because when I stayed over with his 
sister, we frequently sat up in their basement recreation room -- 
such as it was -- as late as we could get away with.
     He nodded. "Sure. You know where everything is?"
     I reached out and gently stroked his half-hard dick a couple 
of times. "I do now." His prick began hardening again. Thirteen.
     He took his shorts and stuffed them in his delivery bag and we 
scurried into the house. I headed down the basement stairs for the 
shower. I heard him climbing the stairs to the second floor, to his 
room. I knew there was a full bathroom up there and figured he'd 
use that one and I'd use the one downstairs and that would be that.
     I figured wrong.

CHAPTER TWO

     The basement was divided into three sections. The main part of 
it was sort of a rec room, with an old sofa and some old armchairs 
and an old TV and stereo, et cetera. Off to one side was the 
laundry room, which contained pretty much what you might expect in 
a laundry. In the corner of the laundry room was the cinderblock 
shower stall. I grabbed the soap, turned on the overhead light -- 
it was set up so you couldn't reach the switch from inside the 
stall -- checked the floor of the shower for nasty little 
multileggers and stepped in for my shower. I adjusted the spray so 
it was like needles pounding down on me, hot and sharp. I stepped 
right into the middle of it and closed my eyes and just savored the 
feel of the water sluicing over my flesh. I damn near came again 
just from the sheer, sensual pleasure of it.
     After a while I stepped out from under the spray long enough 
to pour some K mart baby shampoo directly onto my head. I worked it 
into a thick lather in my thick, dark hair, then stepped back into 
the spray and let the water pound the soap out. Then I stepped out 
of the spay again and grabbed the big, industrial size bar of Ivory 
from the soap dish. I worked it into a thick lather all over my 
skin and savored the slick firmness of my own body. I tried to grab 
my nipples, but the soap made my fingers slip off them -- and I did 
it over and over again, simply because it felt so good. Naturally, 
one thing led to another. 
     In moments, I was leaning back against the wall with the spray 
adjusted to hit my pussy. I had my legs open and used my fingers to 
spread my pussy lips. The spray hit my clitoris and I shuddered and 
shook. I was so close to cumming, it was almost unbearable. I 
finally slipped one finger inside my pussy. It was just the 
slightest bit uncomfortable -- but the good feeling more than made 
up for that. I was right on the verge of cumming when the curtain 
was pulled back.
     Jerry.
     "Can I finish that for you?"
     I practically dragged him into the shower. He got on his knees 
and kissed my tits and sucked my nipples. The hot water was 
pounding both of us. He probed my pussy with one finger and it felt 
awfully good.
     But not good enough.
     I pulled his head away from my breasts and stood straight. I 
reached for a towel as I stepped out of the stall. My other hand 
was tugging his to follow me.
     He didn't need a lot of encouragement.
     We barely made it into the recreation room. I dropped to my 
knees and sucked the head of his hard dick into my mouth. I kept my 
hands on his lean thirteen-year-old hips to restrain his natural 
impulse to jam the whole thing into my throat and after a minute or 
so of that, I kind of pulled him down next to me and urged him to 
lay back on the towel. 
     I straddled his hips and trapped his cock between his belly 
and my cunt lips. I stroked along it a few times, more for my 
pleasure than his. The underside of his dick, turned upward, 
dragged over my swollen little clittie. He pulled me down so my 
face was against his neck and my tits were scrunched against his 
lower chest, I reached around behind my little butt and held his 
steel-stiff cock steady while I slithered backward. 
     Both of our bodies were wet from the shower and it was hot and 
sweaty in that little recreation room, so we slid against each 
other. I felt his dick's head pressing into the furrow of my cunt 
lips. As soon as it was settled in place, he hunched his hips up 
and began pushing it into me.
     His cock wasn't very thick, but I was only ten-and-a-half and 
wet as I was, it was still a tight fit. It went in slowly, very 
slowly, bit by bit. My little cunt was so tight that if he hadn't 
had all that teenaged rigidity and enthusiasm, it never would have 
gone in at all.
     But he did and it did.
     I loved it.
     Feeling his dick slide into me was like having an itch 
scratched before you knew it was itchy. His prick was spreading and 
opening me, filling a void that somehow hadn't existed until it 
entered. The cavity of my cunt was so narrow that I hadn't really 
imagined it could be in need of this until it happened. I 
certainly had never imagined it could feel so damn good.
     Jerry had little in the way of style. He just put his hands 
over the hard little mounds of my ass and pressed down while his 
hips rammed that stiff, throbbing young cock up, relentlessly up.
     I was so little that my pussy lips were stretched tight and my 
clitoris was fully exposed -- it might have been anyhow, since it's 
always been a bit prominent -- and the feeling of his dick invading 
me and my clit being rubbed by my stretched cunt lips and...
     Well, it all rolled up together inside of me and I started 
cumming. And I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. My pussy went into 
spasms and all I could do was press down as hard as I could on him 
and feel his cock sliding slowly into me, spreading and filling me. 
I planted my mouth against his collar bone to stifle my own screams 
and just gave myself over to it.
     By the time he'd gotten his dick all the way into me -- and it 
must have taken a good five or six minutes -- I had already had 
about a zillion orgasms. When he finally hit bottom and that scrawny 
thatch of pubic hair was pressing against my clit, I was totally 
lost in my cumming.
     But when he started moving inside me, it was all over. I came 
so hard and so long that I was afraid I was passing out. I might 
have gone unconscious, in fact, but I wasn't aware of time or space 
or place. All knew was the shattering, shredding pleasure ripping 
through my little body. My pussy was tight to begin with, as you'd 
expect of a near-virgin cunt, and even tighter, considering how 
small and young I was. Add the clenching spasms of my orgasms and-- 
     Well, it only took a couple of minutes of that and Jerry was 
cumming, too. His dick swelled inside me and then he was throbbing 
and jerking in there and groaning about how hot and tight I was and 
how good it felt and we were cumming together. 
     Again, it seemed like he would never stop cumming, but when he 
did and his dick shriveled and even my tight twat couldn't hold him 
inside, enormous quantities of juice poured of me and drenched his 
thighs and the towel beneath us.
     For a long time, we just lay there with me sprawled and 
crushing across his hard young body. My hips kept jerking and 
rolling as little aftershock orgasms rocked through me. We were 
both still moaning and panting when we heard the car in the 
driveway.
     I lifted my head and we stared into each other's eyes for a 
moment. Then the realization and panic hit us. We were like a pair 
of wild mice, scurrying and running. Jerry somehow stuffed himself, 
all sweaty and drooling, into a pair of shorts from the clean 
laundry and I ran back into the shower and started it running. By 
the time Lisa and her Mom were in the house, I later learned, Jerry 
was looking through the fridge and I was standing under the hot 
shower, again trying to make my knees work as the water stung my 
flesh. Their Mom told him to go take a shower before he did 
anything else.
     That was great. In the twenty-five years since then, I've 
only met a few women who'd done it that young -- ten-and-a-half -- 
and none of the others enjoyed it. For most, it was an unpleasant 
thing that was done TO them. I was really lucky to have had so much 
fun -- lucky and rare. Part of it was that I had as much control 
over what was happening as the guy, and that made a difference. But 
I'd learned that it could be lovely and pleasurable -- oh so 
pleasurable! -- and that was a revelation.
     Anyhow, with the exams over for me and the carnival going on, 
I was pretty much on my own and at loose ends for a couple of days. 
Lisa's exams were still going on and there were all these other 
things the public schools did, so I took advantage of it and Jerry 
and I fucked away three afternoons of the next week. Then Lisa was 
free and home too much -- I mean, she was my best friend, but I 
wasn't about to confide to her that I was fucking her brother. She 
was still a ten-year-old herself and would've said something to 
him, even if she didn't' do it out of jealous spite for me. 
     Then we were well into June and Lisa's Mom's routine kept her 
home most of the time. Jerry and I had less and less opportunity 
for fooling around and he got very interested in this girl his own 
age. She had big hooters -- the kind he'd admitted fantasizing 
about -- and I was forgotten. What he learned with me wasn't 
forgotten, though. She benefited from his practice on me when it 
came to cunnilingus. Or so I learned, later.
     In the meantime, another carnival was approaching -- the 
town's, this time, rather than the church's -- and my civic-minded 
Mom and Dad started spending most of their free time at that. It 
was much the same story as with the church carnival. 
     [Sure, I'm a little bitter. I understand now -- I may have 
understood then -- the importance of it. For Dad, it was contacts 
for part-time work as an electrician. For Mom, it was social 
contacts, widening the circle of acquaintances beyond the inbred 
little crowd at the church and on the block. I understood some of 
that; it didn't ease my resentment.]
     So I went to the carnival -- it was only four streets away -- 
and there was this really cute guy working one of the hot dog 
stands. He was fourteen and even though he was cute, he wasn't 
really popular because he had a reputation as a -- well, nowadays, 
we'd call him a "nerd."  His name was Marty. It so happened that 
Marty and I had a common interest: amateur radio. To me, it was 
something mysterious and far away. To Marty it was very real and -- 
     [What fascinated me about it? The idea of being able to press 
some buttons and throw switches and be able to talk with people in 
far off and mysterious places. Okay?]
     Anyhow, he said he had a rig and I wanted to see it so he 
invited me to come by his place after he finished his turn in the 
booth and he'd show me the works. And I agreed. And he hardly ever 
stared at my tits or anything like that, so I figured it was okay; 
it being Saturday and all, his folks would be home.
     Well, his folks weren't home, just his brother, Phil. Phil was 
nineteen and home from college. Their parents were over in Port 
Clinton visiting someone. But Phil didn't seem interested in 
anything except this ballgame on TV -- the Indians and the Tigers; 
I remember it clearly -- and drinking beer. He just grunted when we 
came in, didn't even look at us.
     We went up to Marty's room, which was very tidy. I took that 
as another good sign. His rig was set up on shelves against one 
wall. He powered up and while we were waiting for the tubes to warm 
up, he asked me about school and stuff like that. 
     When the rig was ready, he invited me to sit in the chair and 
run the set. As he got up, I accidentally -- I think -- brushed his 
arm with my breasts. His eyes widened and he stared at my chest as 
if he'd just noticed it. I was all sweaty -- that room was hot up 
there under the eaves in summer -- and where I'd brushed him, the 
tee-shirt was soaked right to my bra. Which wasn't concealing much, 
because my tits were still growing and the bra was still much too 
small. 
     [The bra? No, not for support -- not at that age! --but too 
keep them from bouncing all over the place.]
     My nipples were getting hard -- visibly, right through the bra 
and tee-shirt.
     I looked up at him -- he was about five-foot-seven and I was 
still only four-foot-four -- and he said, simply, "Wow."
     Then he blushed and grinned like a nut and gestured for me to 
sit. And I realized I was enjoying the way he blushed and the way 
he seemed a bit intimidated. I noticed the hard bulge in the front 
of his shorts and I liked the fact that I had done that to him. 
     I sat down at the rig and followed his instructions, all the 
time my nipples hard as rocks and the sweat pouring off me. I asked 
if he had a fan or something and he said no, and he was sorry it 
got so hot up there and peeled off his shirt. It was soaked, too. 
He didn't have as nice a built on him as Jerry, but he was okay.
     "Well, that's not fair," I said. "If you can do that -- " And 
I peeled off my shirt. It was a helluva lot cooler, not having that 
hot cotton plastered to me and it was a helluva lot hotter, sitting 
there with my breasts all shiny and swelling up around the sides 
and top of that pathetic bra.
     He was staring at them. 
     "You don't mind, do you?" I asked.
     "They're beautiful," he said. "I never saw such big, beautiful 
breasts on such a little girl..."
     It was sheer flattery, I thought, but: "Thank you."
     "Can I -- "
     "Touch?"
     "If."
     "If what?"
     "If you promise to be gentle and if I can touch, too."
     He frowned, obviously puzzled. So since I was obviously more 
experienced than he was at that stage, I put my hand over the 
steel-hard bulge in his shorts.
     He jumped as if I'd burned him, blushed even more furiously 
and then stepped forward. I squeezed the lump and he gasped. 
     "Take it out."
     He fumbled at the zipper and finally drew it down. The white 
Jockey's underneath were strained by his 14-year-old's rigidity. I 
unfastened the waist-snap of his shorts and then pulled the shorts 
and the briefs to his knees. His dick sprang up and throbbed right 
in my face. It was about six inches long and thoroughly average in 
every way.  His balls were tight and firm in their wrinkled little 
sack and looked so cute -- !
     I put my hand around his cock and squeezed again. The 
throbbing doubled. He groaned softly. 
     He said, "Now, your turn ..."
     I reached around and under with my other hand -- I was always 
very limber, almost double-jointed -- and pried open the snap of my 
bra. It felt so good to have the pressure off! I shrugged and 
pulled it off, releasing his hard young cock just long enough to 
remove the straps.
     He reached down with one finger and rested just the tip 
against my left nipple. He pressed carefully. My breasts were so 
firm that it hardly gave at all. He put his whole hand on my tit 
and squeezed carefully and the sensation sent a rush right through 
my body to my pussy. I had learned how pleasurable it could be to 
fuck, and I was turned on by the prospect of doing it again. 
     With him standing next to the chair, his dick was almost level 
with my nose. I pulled him close and bent his prick down slightly. 
I turned in the chair to face him and rubbed the silky flesh of the 
red, throbbing glans against my right nipple. 
     "You're gonna make me shoot my stuff," he gasped.
     "Wouldn't you like that?"
     "It'll get all over everything!"
     "Can't have that." I kept rubbing and squeezing and when he 
started to spasm, I raised his dick, brought my mouth down and 
sucked the head into my mouth. His juice was very thick and a 
little vinegary. And there was a lot of it. I knew how to suck and 
swallow -- I'd had some practice with Jerry, remember -- and how 
use my tongue a little. I kept my lips locked around his shaft and 
kept jacking him with my hand. I think he came for about a half a 
minute. I had to swallow twice. His hips kept flailing away even 
after he stopped shooting and his dick hardly lost any of its 
stiffness.
     I realized then that I had my free hand between my legs and I 
was squeezing and rubbing my pussy. I was getting very, very turned 
on. The fact that he wasn't pressing me or forcing me, that I felt 
in control of the situation -- that had a lot to do with it; I felt 
comfortable and unthreatened.
     I let go of his prick and pushed his shorts to his ankles. He 
stepped out of them and I stood and stripped. My white cotton 
panties were absolutely soaked.
     "Can I just -- look at you for a minute?"
     "Look all you want, honey." I caught sight of my reflection in 
the mirror on the closet door. Let me tell you, I was damn foxy 
looking! My complexion is almost swarthy and ample time sunbathing 
had darkened it to a kind of smoldering shade. My hair was long and 
straight in those days, down to my shoulders, and my face was round 
and had a lot of baby fat then. I had good legs -- not great -- but 
they were nicely shaped and in proportion to my hips. My tits were 
very firm, of course, and looked big and my nipples were hard as 
pebbles. My belly was flat and my waist and hips were exactly right 
for a healthy almost-eleven-year-old. I had no hair on my pussy 
yet, so I was all sleek and shiny with perspiration and all lithe, 
with hints of the curves to come. I got turned on even more just 
looking at myself.
     I raised my arms over my head and slowly turned in front of 
him. When I was facing him again, he just stood there with his 
mouth hanging open. But he was standing there naked and with a 
rock-hard erection, too. 
     "I want you to do something for me," I told him, sidling 
closer.
     "Anything," he breathed.
     "I'll let you do it to -- with me, but first I want you to 
kiss me ... down there."
     He frowned. "You mean -- down there?" 
     This sounded familiar, but I knew how to deal with it, now. I 
stepped closer and let my tits press against his stomach. His cock 
was jabbing my stomach.
     "Yes."
     "Is it clean?"
     I nodded and began turning back and forth, slowly, so my 
sweat-slicked breasts were rubbing against him.
     "I don't know how -- "
     "Do what I tell you and you'll learn. You may even enjoy it. 
Besides, I'll suck you again."
     He seemed dubious, but I grabbed his dick and pulled him with 
me toward the narrow bed. I sat on the bed, still holding his 
prick, and pulled him close to me. I leaned forward to kiss his 
cock. Then I let go of his dick and laid back, my legs a little 
apart.
     "Start by kissing my tits," I told him and boy, was he eager! 
He was trembling when he crawled on the bed and bent his head down 
to my tits. He kissed them all over. His breath was hot, even on my 
warm flesh. He kissed them, pressing his lips against the firm 
curves. He kissed my nipples as gentle as a fly landing and then 
got a little adventurous and sucked one lightly into his mouth. I 
couldn't stop my gasp of pleasure or the little shiver that went 
through my hips. I took one of his hands and put it on the breast 
he wasn't kissing at the moment. I led his thumb and forefinger to 
my nipple.
     "Now very gently, pinch it -- ah!" The sensation was 
maddening. He was a quick study and very attentive and quickly got 
the knack of drawing the pads of his thumb and forefinger up from 
the base, barely grazing the hard little spike until they reached 
the tip -- and then tugging lightly on it. It didn't take too much 
of that before my hips were rolling and my legs were opened.
     I pushed his head down over me and he kissed and licked and 
nibbled his way down past my ribcage, down over my flat ten-and-a-
half-year-old's belly and abdomen, down to where the fever was. I 
swear, I could feel my pussy pulsing with eagerness.
     I held his head in both hands and directed his mouth right 
there, to the top of my little mound. When his lips pressed my 
clit, I came. Damn! I just lay there and shuddered with the 
pleasure of it. By now my legs wee wide open and my hips wee 
rolling around and rubbing my cunt all over his face. He didn't 
seem to mind the taste too much! 
     I tasted blood and realized I had bit my lip, trying to stifle 
any noise. I let go of his head and he looked up and said, "Are you 
alright? Did I hurt you?"
     "Honey, I am totally right and you did it right! Lick me a 
little, will you?"
     I didn't have to ask twice. He plunged in eagerly, lapping 
away at my bald little cunt like a puppy with water. He even tried 
pushing his tongue inside a couple of times, but I was too tight. 
At one point, he pulled my legs up and over his back, so my thighs 
were on his shoulders and my vagina was aimed right up into his 
mouth. 
     He was holding my little butt. His hands almost covered my 
cheeks. He pulled my cunt up to his mouth and gobbled. And let me 
tell you, it didn't take him long to find the most important place. 
He got the tip of his tongue on my clitoris -- it felt like it was 
swollen as a big as a marble -- and played with it and I was lost.
     I reached back and pulled a corner of the bedspread up to 
stuff in my mouth and then all hell broke loose. I came and came 
and came. It was like some kind of seizure. Even though he later 
denied it, I could tell that the pressure of my thighs on his ears 
had hurt, because his ears were all red.
     I finally had to drag his head away from my little pussy; I 
simply couldn't take any more. It was almost hurting from that 
direct manipulation. 
     I pulled him up on that skinny bed next to me and rolled him 
onto his back and sprawled on top of him. He was gasping and I was 
panting and we were both absolutely covered with perspiration, 
which made us all slippery against each other. 
     "Have you ever been inside a girl before?" I asked him. He 
shook his head. I rolled on top of him and straddled his waist, 
kneeling. I reached back and found his cock, hard and hot, 
throbbing just behind me. I leaned back a bit so I could feel it 
press into the upper separation of my ass cheeks. He groaned a 
little bit.
     I leaned forward onto him and gave him a big wet kiss right on 
the lips and we tongued each other a bit. His hands had come up to 
stroke and caress my back and slide down to squeeze my ass.
     "You just lay there a minute and I'll get this under wy," I 
told him. I knelt up and moved back, then crouched over him. His 
dick was standing up so stiffly it was at maybe a forty-five degree 
angle to his stomach. I grabbed his prick in one hand and lowered 
myself till it was against my cunt.
     My pussy was all red and swollen and I was incredibly wet. 
Still, it was a good thing he was so hard, or it never would have 
gone into me. As it was, the fit was so snug that when maybe a 
third of him was inside me, I stopped and tried to relax.
     "I don't think I can hold it," he groaned.
     Well, I wanted him to hold it, because it felt so good going 
in -- but I wanted him to feel as good as he made me feel, so I 
said, "Honey, you just relax and let it shoot."
     He sighed and I pushed down and back, thrusting more and more 
of his dick into me and he started cumming. His hands pulled my ass 
down and I had almost all of him in me before he stopped shooting. 
I could feel his spasms, but I was already so wet I didn't feel his 
jism in me. 
     But he stayed mostly hard and when I finally got the last of 
his dick in me, I started sliding around. I let myself fall forward 
onto him, so my titties were pressed into his upper stomach and I 
just let my hips go, rolling and rocking and sliding up and down.
     In no time at all he was hard as a rock inside me again and I 
was starting to cum again. Unlike the orgasms when he was eating 
me, this one built and built and built, like a wave coming in, and 
when it started, I could feel my little cunt close even more around 
him. He was jerking his hips up, thrusting into me crazily. I sat 
up and back and let all sixty-four pounds of me press my cunt down 
hard onto his stiff dick. I glanced down, past the barely jiggling 
mounds of my hard tits and the swollen-to-bursting points of my 
nipples and I could see his dick stretching into my little pussy, 
my cunt lips pulled wide to accommodate his shaft. 
     I just kept cumming and cumming and then he whispered that he 
was going to cum again. I grabbed my nipples and squeezed and 
ground my cunny down till my clit was mashed into the little pubic 
mat around the base of his cock. I felt his dick flex as he creamed 
inside me and each throb sent me deeper into my orgasm.
     I toppled forward onto him as he finished and lay there with 
his dick, finally shriveling, still clamped in my puss. I thought I 
would pass out; he had.
     I pulled myself off him. My cunt held onto his limp prick and 
stretched it out till it popped free and flopped back onto his 
belly. A thick mixture of juices, his and mine, seeped out of my 
tight slit. His dingus looked cute now, all curled up and shriveled 
like a little boy's. 
     I put my panties back on, mostly to keep all that stuff from 
draining down my legs, then my shorts and my bra. My breasts were 
still swollen and very tender. My tee-shirt was too drenched -- so, 
for that matter, was the bed -- so I rummaged through Marty's 
dresser and took one of his. It was way too big, which was just 
fine by me.
     I let myself out of his room and walked slowly downstairs. 
Phil was still in front of the TV, now with a sandwich and potato 
chips in front of him, along with the beer. The game was still on.
     "Who's winning?"
     "Indians." For the first time he looked at me. "Who're you?"
     I told him. He shook his head and looked back at the game. 
"Funny. I thought you were eleven or twelve."
     "I'll be eleven in a couple of months."
     He looked back at me, staring quite openly at my figure. 
"Damn. You have one hell of a figure for a kid your age."
     "You don't have to sound sad about it."
     "I wish you were old enough for -- never mind." He laughed. 
     "For what?"
     This time he gave me an appraising look. "Where's Marty?"
     "Upstairs. I asked him to show me his ham station. You still 
didn't tell me what you wish I was old enough for."
     "Nothing a kid like you should be hearing." He turned his gaze 
firmly back on the TV. "I'll be seeing you around, Marie."
     "Be seein' ya'," I said and let myself out of the house.
     So I had made this discovery, see? I could find and be close 
to and even have sex with nice men and I could turn men on and 
still have them treat me right and it could be fun and sweet and 
pleasurable and not hateful or hurtful or scary. All the way home, 
five blocks on the East Side of Toledo on a hot summer day, boys 
would stare at me and some men, too, and most of them would look 
away when they saw my face and realized how young I was, and it 
didn't scare me. That was important: It didn't scare me.
     And since it could be fun and didn't scare me and felt awful 
nice, I determined to do a lot more of it.
     When I set my mind to something, I do it. This was no 
exception. I had just been warming up, so to speak.

CHAPTER THREE

     I saw Marty a couple of more times in the next few weeks and 
we tried all sorts of things when we could. I somehow got the 
feeling Phil suspected what was going on, but he didn't say 
anything to me and if he said anything to Marty, Marty didn't tell 
me.
     Then my phantom step-brother came to visit for a week or so. I 
purposely bought a new two-piece suit in a size that fit my waist. 
In other words, it was far too small for my bust. Then I made sure 
I was sunning myself on the picnic table out behind the kitchen 
window when he came in from the airport. He didn't even recognize 
me at first. Then he just shook his head and looked away from the 
window, the one that looks out on the back yard. He was, let's see, 
fifteen then, and damn! what a fox! But he always behaved properly 
toward me -- I could tell he was a little uncomfortable -- and 
nothing happened, no matter how much I tried to provoke it. And I 
tried.
     But my best friend, Lisa, got a terrible crush on him and the 
way he dealt with it was so sweet! He treated her like a regular 
grownup person, not like an eleven-year-old with a crush, and very 
gently steered her away. Hahaha! I remember when she gave him a 
present -- a bag of potato chips. He accepted it and thanked her 
for her thoughtfulness and she jumped up and gave him a little kiss 
on the cheek and ran away. He sat there, blushing like mad, and 
just opened the bag and offered some to me. I was laughing at Lisa 
and he demanded that I stop.
     "Oh, Dan, she's just got a terrible crush on you! It's puppy 
love!"
     He looked me right in the eye and told me he thought she was 
sweet, pretty and nice and then he said: "Besides, Marie, do 
puppies hurt less than grown dogs?"
     I stopped laughing.
     And that was the thing about him: He understood things you 
already knew, and he could remind you of them. 
     Anyhow, by the time Labor Day rolled around -- the last 
weekend of summer -- Marty and I were on the splits. All there'd 
ever really been between us was sex and I'd figured out he wasn't 
the only boy I could get. He was nice enough, but he was, well -- 
dull. My eleventh birthday came and went in August.
     The problem was that I loved sex and I'd gotten used to 
getting it pretty much when I wanted it. And I was horny as hell.
     On the Friday night of Labor Day weekend, Alexis -- my sister; 
she's almost five years older than me -- was out on a date and Mom 
and Dad had taken my two baby brothers with them out to Genoa, to 
Uncle Van's, to watch the fireworks show. I knew they'd be late 
getting back, so I decided to treat myself to a hot bath and little 
Yellow Pages fun --
     [That's what I called masturbating. You know: "Let your 
fingers do the walking"?]
     The only other one in the house was my younger sister, Jeanne. 
Jeanne was exactly eleven months younger then me and she was a 
beauty. She was less like me than like Alexis -- who's a natural 
plantinum blonde with a peaches-and-cream complexion and ripe red 
lips. Jeanne was sandy blonde and already had this lovely face and 
long legs. My phantom step-brother used to call her the fawn, 
because she was so lithe and graceful. 
     [Right, I was sort of the missing link. Grandma used to say 
there'd been a nigger in the woodpile where I was concerned, 
because I was so swarthy and built completely different. I found 
out years later that there was a reason I was different, but 
Grandma had been way off the mark...]
     Anyhow.
     I had drawn a hot, hot bath and filled it with bubble bath, 
this stuff I'd gotten for my birthday from some cousin or other.
I lay in the tub and spent some time just savoring the heat of the 
water and the scent of the bubble bath and then started fooling 
around. Pretty soon, I was all worked up. My fingers weren't just 
walking; they were dancing and diving. I was rubbing my clitoris 
like I wanted to rub it right off and when I came I made some kind 
of noise and sloshed water, because Jeanne banged on the door and 
asked was I okay.
     I told her I was okay and she kept wanting to know what I was 
doing. Really spoiled it for me. So I got out of the bath and 
toweled off and opened the door and stood there naked in front of 
my little sister. Jeanne was just wearing a tee-shirt and panties 
and she looked so pretty...
     "Something private," I said and took my towel down the hall to 
my room, still naked.
     She followed me.
     "I know what you were doing."
     "What?"
     "Playing with yourself."
     From down the hall, I heard the last of the water sucked down 
the tub drain.
     "That's right, Jeanne." I started to turn away, then changed 
my mind. "How did you know?"
     "I know you've been doing it for a while, now."
     "Do you do it?"
     She blushed just a little and shrugged and nodded. "I guess 
so."
     I noticed that beneath her loose tee-shirt, the little nubs of 
her nipples were hardening. "What do you think about when you do 
it?"
     "...stuff."
     "What stuff?"
     "Just ... stuff." She was obviously uncomfortable with this. 
So I pursued it.
     [Yes, I was being a bitch.]
     "What do you think about?" she demanded.
     "Doing it with boys."
     "Doing wha -- you mean, IT?"
     I nodded. "And I like it."
     "You've done it with a boy? When? Who? Did it hurt? Did you 
like it? What did he do?"
     "For one thing, he never made me stand around all wet." I 
started to dry myself. She was watching. 
     "Did they grab your boobs?"
     "Sometimes, but I made them stop if they hurt me."
     "Did you like it?"
     "It can be very nice."
     "I wish I had nice boobs like you." She was watching them 
bounce and move as I dried myself.
     "It's not so much the boobs as the nipples, Jeanne." I stood 
and looked down at my breasts, then reached up with one hand and 
rubbed the stiff nodule of one nipple. It swelled even more. I 
pinched it gently and couldn't help sighing with pleasure. 
"Definitely, the nipples," I said. I looked up at her. "You don't 
have to have big boobs to enjoy having your nipples kissed and 
licked ... and sucked."
     "But if you don't have boobs, they don't pay much attention to 
you above the waist."
     "Too bad they don't, isn't it? It's really nice ... " I rubbed 
the pad of my forefinger across the other nipple. "Try it," I said.
     She misunderstood.
     My baby sister -- not little, cause she was about three inches 
taller than me -- reached out and brushed her fingers across my 
nipple. She caught me by surprise and so did the sensation of 
having someone else touch me like that. In particular, having a 
woman touch me like that. My sister, even.
     The tingle that went through me was intense; I was afraid I 
was going to have an orgasm -- bang, just like that. As it was, my 
knees got a little weak.
     "You mean like that?"
     I nodded. "Or like this -- " I reached out and lightly caught 
one of those little pencil-eraser-size bumps under her tee-shirt 
and squeezed it, oh, just ever so lightly, between my thumb and 
forefinger. Her eyes half-closed and her lips, those lush, pouty 
young lips, parted slightly. I dropped the towel. Without releasing 
her nipple, I did the same with the other nipple and stepped closer 
to her, carefully twisting the swollen little buds. Her breath was 
shallow, but hot and sweet on my face. Her lips looked so sweet, I 
just had to -- 
     So I kissed her, right on the mouth, kissed her the way I 
liked to be kissed and apparently, our genes ran true. She gasped 
and kissed me back and after a few moments our tongues met. She 
brought her hands up and began caressing and feeling my breasts. I 
raised her tee-shirt and found her tits had just begun the 
slightest of swellings around the prominent nozzles of her nipples. 
I licked her little mounds and then lavished my tongue on her 
nipples. Her knees kept buckling. 
     I led her to the bed and pulled her tee-shirt off. "I'm going 
to show you how nice it can be, sweet Jeanne." She lay back readily 
and I bent over her, licking and kissing her nipples, her budding 
breasts, her throat and her mouth. She kept running her hands all 
over me, but never quite touched the place that most craved 
touching.
     It wasn't long before we were laying side-by-side on my bed, 
kissing and caressing each other passionately. Finally, when I was 
on top of her, I leaned to one side and put my hand between us, on 
the mound within her wet panties. I rubbed my fingers carefully 
around her pudgy little cunt and she started bucking her hips up 
toward me. I pulled her sodden panties down, exposing her fledgling 
pussy in all its perfect, hairless loveliness and then I rolled to 
poise on all fours over her.
     "I am going to make you feel wonderful now," I said. "Okay?"
     Her eyes were closed in her flushed face and she merely nodded 
and moaned. Then I twisted on the bed and began lapping at my 
sister. 
     Yes, I ate her. I loved it. Not just the sweet, fresh taste of 
her juices or the slick feel of her naked pussy under my lips and 
tongue. That wasn't all of it. For one thing, I loved the way she 
kept moaning and moving with pleasure beneath me. For another, I 
was getting the chance to lick her in exactly the way I'd wanted to 
be licked, as I'd tried -- and failed -- to train Marty to lick me. 
Best of all, it was like telling the world, "Fuck you! This is how 
sweet and good and beautiful it is at heart -- not the dirty, 
secret hurtful thing you make it out to be!"
     She came in long, gentle, rolling waves of pleasure, all 
clenched and slippery and writhing. She was so beautiful in her 
innocent passion!
     Finally, I lay back with my face wet with her juices. I 
stretched out next to her and pulled her face to me. She hesitated 
-- and then we tongue-kissed again. Her mouth was soft and sweet 
and seeking and she seemed determined to lick all of her own 
secretions of my mouth. She sat up and over and began kissing my 
breasts, pausing the suck my nipples, and kissed her way down, 
down, down over my flat belly and down to my thighs. She kissed the 
insides of my thighs for a long time and then -- 
     And then she began licking me. As soon as her tongue touched 
my cunt lips, I began cumming and when she located and locked in on 
the fervent bud of my clitoris, the sensation was exquisite. My 
cunt clenched wildly. I reached out and pulled her over me, so her 
legs were astraddle my head, and then I pulled her precious little 
cunt into my mouth and we began sixty-nining. I begged her to put 
her finger in me and she complied hesitantly -- until she 
comprehended my response; then she worked that finger around and 
around happily, setting off explosions within me like firecrackers 
on Chinese New Year.
     I didn't even think about what I did next until I was almost 
doing it -- and then it was her response that gave me pause. I had 
one finger poised at the clamshell-tight lips of her cunt above me, 
about to probe within when she tensed. I remembered how it had hurt 
me the first time; I didn't want to do that to my baby sister --  
hurt her, I mean. So I merely traced my finger around her swollen 
cunt lips while my worked busily at her clit.
     But after a time -- a minute? Five minutes? I dunno -- she 
raised her head and wailed, "Dammit, Mar, stop teasing me! Put it 
inside!"
     Whatever you want, baby sister. 
     I slipped it in carefully, to the first joint, always ready to 
stop and withdraw at the first resistance of hymen.
     But my fingers slid all the way into that unbelievably tight 
little cunt, right to the base, and when my sister came this time, 
she was like a madwoman -- and she vented it all on my cunt.
     The two of us bucked and arched and came, over and over again. 
When we could finally stop, I pulled her up to me and we lay in 
each other's arms, panting and kissing and hugging and still 
tingling. 
     When I could speak, I told her, "I was afraid to put my finger 
in. The first time usually hurts."
     "I know," she said simply.
     I opened my eyes wide and stared at her. Her eyes wee wide and 
clear and knowing, inches from mine.
     She said nothing. After a moment, I understood -- as she'd 
known I would. We had something else in common. We held each other 
tightly for a long time, quietly comforting and bonded in a shared 
experience.
     [No, I don't want to talk about that. Not now.]

CHAPTER FOUR

     Jeanne and I got to be regulars at that, sneaking into bed 
together whenever we got the chance -- and that was every few days, 
at least, since who would suspect a ten-year-old girl and her 
eleven-year-old sister -- even if the eleven-year-old was 
developing the kind of figure I was?
     [Oh, yeah, well strange as it sounds, they didn't seem to be 
growing that fast right then, as if there was this first spurt and 
then it slowed down a more normal pace; the major difference was 
that my "normal pace" had gotten a head start. I was kind of glad, 
in a way. I mean, they had stabilized at too big for a training 
bra, but I still wasn't able to wear even a 32-inch bra, the 
smallest they sold in the stores. I only measured twenty-five 
inches at the bust.]
      The problem was, I wasn't growing taller or wider, either. I 
was only about four-foot-five and my waist was still nineteen 
inches and my hips were just about twenty-four inches, so I still 
looked surprisingly busty. If it hadn't been for Dana Connolly --
     Dana and I had gotten to be pretty close friends, mostly 
because she and I the were two girls always getting hit on by high 
school kids. Dana was tall for her age -- about five-foot-three or 
-four -- and she had a real figure, all nice, sleek curves. She had 
these real long legs and lots of blonde hair. Dana wasn't pretty, 
but she was attractive and I could see the boys found her sexy and 
I knew why: She had a way of walking and moving .... Mmmm. She was 
sexy and she knew it and she flaunted it. And she was adventurous. 
She'd try just about anything. With anyone. She told me things -- 
     [No. I promised I'd never tell and I haven't and I won't. even 
though she betrayed me two years later. We haven't spoken since. 
But a promise is a promise.]
     Where was I -- ?
     Right.  Well, if it hadn't been for her, I probably would have 
gotten all the wrong kinds of attention for all the wrong reason. 
As it was, when we hung out together, boys who came on to me got 
lured away by Dana -- which was just fine, as she liked any 
attention from boys, and I was sort of picky.
     [No, I hadn't lost interest -- quite the contrary, my dear! -- 
but the kind of high school boys who come on to a sixth-grader were 
not the kind I wanted to deal with. Dana seemed able to handle 
them -- and did she enjoy handling them!]
     It was fine with me.
     The first half of my seventh-grade year was pretty uneventful. 
Oh, sure, I came on to a couple of eighth grade boys and a freshman 
at Rossford High -- I was successful with all but one, who got 
scared and ran away -- but it was always furtive and sneaking and 
there was never time to really enjoy it. Besides, mostly they just 
seemed interested in grabbing my tits and poking me with their 
fingers. One of the eighth graders was ready and willing to fuck 
me, but every time he got his cock near me, he came. This happened 
over and over again, to our eternal frustration. It was almost 
funny -- and it was amazing, too. 
     One night, I got him alone in the back of one of the school 
busses parked in the school lot. We had time and I was determined. 
He always amazed me when he came so fast, because there was a lot 
of it. He had really big balls and even after he came, he got hard 
again.
     This time, I figured, I would get him off a couple of times 
and then get him inside me. It was November and it had been almost 
a month since I'd had a hard dick in me. My baby sister's lovely 
tongue and fingers notwithstanding, there was no substitute for the 
real thing.
     We were having a little bit of Indian summer, so the Saturday 
night in Thanksgiving weekend, we sneaked into the lot and into one 
of the buses in the back. I stripped us both to the waist -- from 
the ankles -- and went to work. Sure as a clock, as soon as he got 
between my legs and I grabbed his dick, he came all over the place. 
I mean, on the bus seat, on my legs, on my cunt, my belly -- 
everywhere. And stayed hard. Mostly.
     Fine, I thought, and proceeded with my plan. I stroked him a 
little, my hand all slippery with his cum, and when he was really 
hard again, lined up his cock with my pussy. And he came again -- 
just like before. Gobs everywhere.
     And stayed mostly hard.
     I told him, No problem; we're gong to lick this thing. And 
then I did just what I said and got down and started licking him.
He got stiff as steel and came in my mouth. I thought I'd drown.
     Surely, I thought, after cumming that much three times in 
twenty minutes, this time he'll last longer. I stroked him a little 
and had him lay on the seat. I managed to squat over him and this 
time the tip of his dick touched my cunt. Success! I thought.
     Wrong-o. He spurted again and left a lake of it dripping on 
his belly and pooling there.
     This went on for about an hour and a half and all together, he 
came on, around and over me about six times.
     On the seventh try, he got the head of his cock into my pussy 
and started cumming immediately. I was on the back seat of the bus 
with my legs around his waist; he was standing on the floor. As 
soon as I felt his dick enter me, I pulled him in the rest of the 
way. If I'd thought he'd cum the first six times, I hadn't seen 
anything. I think he must've cum in me for a full minute or more. 
The only reason he stopped was he passed out and collapsed. By 
then, the jism had filled my cunt and backed up and dripped out 
around his prick.
     His cock was still hard.
     I considered squatting over him and taking advantage of it, 
but by then I was tired and stiff and hardly even horny any more. I 
woke him up and cleaned him up and he told me how he loved me and 
how great it was and we left.
     Christmas and winter came and went. Dad got drunk a lot that 
year, worrying about money, I guess, and he got mean when he got 
drunk. Jeanne and I conspired to avoid him and were largely 
successful.
     So then it was spring of 1966 and that was the first time I 
seduced an older man. It wa over spring break -- we called it 
Easter Vacation at St. Cornelius.
     I'd gone into Genoa to stay at Uncle Van's house for a few 
days. His daughter, Charlene, was a lot like me in some ways. 
Charlene was a little more than a year older, but she was all pudgy 
and baby fat, just starting to melt away. But was she ever boy-
crazy! Charlene made even Dana seem tame. She'd do anything to get 
boys around her and keep them near here. She'd told me how she once 
pulled a train -- 
     [Gang-bang. When a girl fucks several guys in succession, 
that's pulling a train.] 
     She was almost thirteen. She'd done it when she was twelve, 
with a bunch of her brother's friends.
     Her brother, Tod, was a real asshole. He was fifteen then. A 
real blockhead. About six foot two, maybe two hundred and twenty 
pounds -- enormous for his age. But he didn't have a brain in his 
head -- and no sense of right and wrong, either. If he wanted 
something, he bullied his way around till he got it. He'd started 
fucking Charlene when she was nine. "Raping her" is more like it. 
If Charlene was twisted, Tod was why. Sometimes I wonder if she 
didn't provoke .... No. I don't think any nine-year-old girl knows 
enough to do that. And I think Charlene may have been a little off, 
y'know?
     Anyhow, Charlene and I got along pretty good and besides, they 
had this terrific in-ground pool and it was shaping up to be a hot 
summer, judging by spring, and they had a finished basement with a 
pool table and stuff and her folks were away a lot. Uncle Van drove 
on the racing circuit, and they were always off somewhere or other. 
And I just wanted to get the hell out of Toledo for a while. 
     It was nice. We sat up and watched scary movies from the 
Detroit stations and we exchanged notes and secrets about 
mysterious doings with boys and -- 
     [No. I didn't find her appealing in that way and she didn't 
care for women that way.] 
     They lived in this development off State Route 51 and their 
neighbor was this guy named Roger something-or-other. 
     [Did you know that "roger" is now another word for "fuck"? No 
kidding. In upper-class circles now they talk about men rogering 
women. Everyone knows what it means, so why don't they just say -- 
Oh, never mind.]
     Anyhow. Roger's wife had just left him, oh, not six months 
before and the guy was a wreck. Charlene told me he was all messed 
up -- couldn't sleep or eat or anything. 
     Roger was about twenty-seven and about six foot tall and had 
this great body that I saw sometimes when he was working in his 
yard. And he was nice looking. Not a fox, like my phantom step-
brother; just nice.  But there was something about him that had me 
all achy and twisty-stomachy and wet and itchy inside just to look 
at him. Charlene told me his lights were on all night and he always 
looked really tired and sometimes you had to call his name two or 
three times before he noticed you. It was like he was still in 
shock from his wife leaving him. Charlene didn't know why she'd 
left, but said she was a real slut -- worse: a cheat. 
     I knew he was a long haul trucker and when he was working, 
he'd be away a week at a time. I knew he was quite an amateur 
gardener. And Charlene had told me he sometimes let Uncle Van use 
his basement workshop, because his hobbies included cabinet-making.
     That was my key. I waited for the right moment. It came two 
days later. Van and Aunt Irene were down in Kentucky for a race and 
Tod was passed out -- as usual when his folks were away -- from too 
much beer. Charlene had taken her bike to peddle over to Casper's 
Corners, this country-road intersection about three miles away 
where a lot of kids hung out.
     I waited till I heard the radio from his house and then went 
over. It was about seventy degrees, but there was a breeze. I wore 
a light windbreaker, real short cutoffs that had faded and shrunk 
all soft to fit snug on my butt. Under the windbreaker I was 
wearing a thin tanktop and nothing else. I rang the bell. He 
answered, wearing a pair of jeans and a sport shirt. The jeans were 
nicely filled.
     He didn't recognize me through the screen door for a moment, 
then he smiled. "Hello. You're Marie, aren't you? What can I do for 
you?"
     "Uncle Van said you know cabinet-making and I wanted to ask 
you about it. Can I come in?"
     He held the door for me and asked if I'd like a Coke or some 
juice, and I said water would be dandy. While he fetched it, I 
looked around the living room.
     Roger's house was identical in layout to Van and Irene's, but 
where my uncle's house was decorated to look like an Italian 
director's idea of a swinging Playboy pad -- all shag rugs and red 
drapes and such -- Roger's looked like one of those model rooms 
they set up in furniture stores. And everything was spotlessly, 
shining clean. There was a whole bookcase full of books. I looked 
them over: Reader's Digest Condensed versions. Ycccch. But at least 
he read books.
     He returned, water in hand. I unzipped my windbreaker about 
halfway and thanked him. 
     "I want to put a bookcase in my room -- not real big, just 
about this high --" I held my hand even with my breasts. "-- and 
about this wide --" I held my arms wide apart. This caused the 
windbreaker to part and my breasts to heave up into sight within 
the tanktop. "Do I need a lot of power tools for that or can I just 
use a hand saw and hammer and nails?"
     "Easy. You don't even need a saw. The lumber yard will cut the 
boards to the length you want for about a nickel a cut. Hammer and 
nails and glue will be -- "
     "Glue? Like Elmer's?"
     "Better to use Carpenter's Glue." I nodded. "What color will 
you paint it?"
     "I don't want to paint it. I like wood."
     He grinned. "Smart girl. You could stain it, you know. That 
would give it a shade to go with your room and wouldn't hide the 
grain."
     "I suppose, but Dad's always talking abut how easy it is to 
mess up with stain."
     "Naw; you just have to know how to do it. I'm going to stain a 
piece I just made; want to watch?"
     Well of course I did and I'd known -- from peeking through his 
basement window -- that was what he was going to do, which was why 
I'd asked the question I'd asked. Heheheh.
     His basement was as neat as his living room. Half of it was a 
little recreation room with a pool table. Built-in couches lined 
two walls. We went into his workshop and he showed me how he 
stained furniture -- in this case, a natural penetrating stain on 
the maple top of what would be a gorgeous credenza. And he was 
right: It was easy and neat, not at all messy, if you knew what you 
were doing, which I figured could be said about a lot of things.
     I thanked him and we stepped back into the rec room. I picked 
up the cue ball and rolled it toward the neat triangle of balls 
waiting at the other end of the table.
     "Do you play?"
     I shook my head. "Always wanted to learn how, but we don't 
have one."
     "Van and Irene have one. I'm surprised Tod hasn't taught you."
     I laughed. "Tod's always trying to teach me something, but 
it's not pool. He's always grabbing me and stuff."
     "Pretty girl like you will have to expect that and figure out 
how to deal with it."
     "I wouldn't mind, so much," I said, "except Tod's so grabby 
and such an -- " I shut my mouth.
     "An asshole?"
     I laughed. "Exactly."
     "Pool's rules are simple for the major games," he explained. 
"It's getting good at it that's tough. Good at pool means 
practice." He frowned. "Good at anything means practice." Then he 
brightened. "Want me to teach you?"
     "You wouldn't mind -- "
     "Not at all." He selected a pair of sticks from the rack, and 
showed me how to hold the stick and stroke. I kept messing up, 
mostly because I didn't have much coordination , but sometimes on 
purpose. Knowing what was coming. 
     "Here," he said, moving around the table to stand behind me. 
     "Hold on." I removed the windbreaker in the minimally 
ventilated room. "It's wart down here." Now my tits wee exposed 
against the tanktop, which was damp and starting to cling quite 
nicely, thank you. he glanced at them, then away. The deep arm 
openings went down so low that I knew he could see the sides of my 
breasts. "Okay."
     He reached his arms around me and bent me forward a little to 
reach the cue ball. I could sense him stiffly trying not to make 
any body contact. I was having none of that, so I kept arching my 
butt out until I felt his thigh against my behind. Then I shimmied 
to the left and rubbed my butt on his crotch a little. He froze, 
still as a rock -- and the lump in his jeans was just as hard.
     He stood straight and I straightened with him, dropping my 
poolstick to the felt and taking his wrists in my hands. I led his 
hands to my tits and placed them. He lightly cupped my breasts and 
his thumbs moved back and forth across my stiff nipples through the 
tee-shirt. My breathing was as shallow as his.
     "We shouldn't be doing this," he said quietly.
     "Why not?"
     "You're just a kid -- "
     I pulled his hands tighter against my breasts and stood on 
tiptoes to rub my denim-clad ass into his crotch. "A kid?" I turned 
within his arms. "I know what I'm doing. I like it. I want to do it 
-- with you."
     I reached down to cup one hand against his balls. My hand was 
filled. I unzipped his jeans and wiggled open the waist snap, then 
pushed them down. He was, happily, naked underneath. His dick was 
the longest I had ever seen at that point, about eight inches, and 
quite thick. The head was throbbing against the underside of my 
tits through the tee-shirt.
     I grabbed the thick shaft in both hands and lightly stroked. 
He groaned and rested his hands lightly on my shoulders. I bent a 
little at the waist and licked the thick head of his prick, then 
opened my mouth and took it inside. By then I knew some things to 
do with my tongue and lips and I did them. I sucked and tongued his 
dick head and he groaned and warned me he was going to cum if I did 
that. I made a loud, affirmative noise and sucked and jacked his 
cock all the more urgently, squeezing it at the same time. It was 
like squeezing a piece of thinly upholstered wood.
     He was true to his word, too -- he came. Oh, boy, did he come! 
He arched backward and his dick swelled up inside my mouth so much 
I don't think I could have removed it if I'd wanted to and then he 
started shooting. I don't know how long it had been since his last 
ejaculation, but the stuff just poured out of him in powerful 
spurts that made me gurgle, no matter how fast I swallowed. He let 
loose three or four of those long geysers and then began shooting 
fast spurts -- splat - splat - splat -- like that.
     After about a half minute. the spurts slowed and stopped and 
his dick started to shrivel some. I sucked the head as I pulled 
back and was rewarded with a last shivering dribble of his cum and 
a soft groan from him.
     He dropped to his knees in front of me and his face was even 
with my tits. He pulled my tanktop over my head -- it was pretty 
gooey with his overflowed cum, anyhow -- and started licking and 
kissing my tits. He would take most of my tit in his mouth and suck 
and slowly squeeze it out until just the nipple remained inside - 
and then he'd fasten onto my nipple. He'd suck like mad and whip 
the tip of his tongue back and forth over it so fast that I 
literally had an orgasm with each tit, just as if my nipples were 
little clitorises.
     All the time he was doing that, he was unfastening my shorts 
and pushing them down. When they fell to the floor, leaving me 
naked, he ran his hands up over the backs of my legs and clamped a 
hand over each cheek of my ass. My butt was so small and tight he 
could cover it with both hands. Two fingertips reached past my 
asshole and began to rub the thoroughly dripping lips of my swollen 
little snatch. I came again when he slipped a fingertip into the 
entrance of my cunt.
     Suddenly, he reached behind himself and pulled one of the 
cushions of the banquet. He whipped the cushion above my head and 
banged it down onto the pool table behind me. Then he stood, 
lifting me with him. I wrapped my legs around his hips and felt the 
underside of his reinvigorating cock against my pussy. He lay me on 
the cushion on the pool table and disengaged my leg grip, then 
lifted my ankles high, bent at the waist and began feasting.
     He licked my thighs and I came. He licked my cunt and I came. 
He licked and sucked my clitoris and I came. Soon I was just 
cumming, again and again. He took my ankles in his hands and pulled 
them wide and tried to stick his tongue inside my pussy. I was so 
small -- and even tighter from the constant orgasms -- that he 
couldn't even get the tip into me. But I was glad he tried, because 
it just made me keep cumming.
     Then he pushed my legs back till my knees were near my 
shoulders. I was completely opened to his attentions and my hips 
were aimed up at the ceiling. He moved his face back farther 
and began licking the inner slopes of my ass cheeks. I shrieked 
with surprise and pleasure and then with even more pleasure when he 
began swiping his tongue back and forth over my asshole. When he 
tried to get the tip of his tongue into my ass, there was no way it 
was going to penetrate -- but I had fun with his trying! I'd had no 
idea anything could feel so good back there and I came again.
     He turned me and the cushion on the pool table. Instead of my 
legs hanging over the edge, now I was laying along one side. He 
stood beside he table, next to my head, facing my feet. My heels 
were on the felt and my legs were bent and apart. He bent forward, 
put his face between my legs and started licking me again and I 
started cumming again. All I could feel was pleasure, endless 
pleasure.
     At some point, he got one hand under my butt and beyond and 
then he bent his wrist and forced one long, thick finger up my 
cunt. My pussy grabbed it and tried to get cum from the finger and 
I came some more. Then he wedged a second finger in with it, 
stretching my little twat, and all the time kept licking me and 
sucking my clittie. The juices were running down into the crack of 
my flexing ass.
     Then he pushed his pinky into my asshole.
     I yelped -- it hurt! But I was cumming, too, and couldn't stop 
cumming and he just kept working the finger into the narrow hole, 
forcing it deeper and deeper until it was all the way in.
     He just held it there without moving it, but that didn't 
matter: I was thoroughly stuffed, front and back, and the fingers 
stretching my cunt were wriggling. I could feel them pressing 
against the finger in my ass and vice versa -- and all the time he 
was licking and sucking my clit.
     I started cumming again and again I couldn't stop. Sometime in 
there, he started moving all three fingers in and out of me, 
separately. My narrow little butt-hole had loosened just a little 
and it still wasn't comfortable, but it sure as hell didn't hurt! I 
wasn't sure if the orgasms were starting with my clittie, in my 
cunt or even -- and I couldn't believe this -- in my ass. All I 
knew was I was cumming and cumming and didn't want it to stop.
     But stop it did -- when he withdrew his fingers and his mouth. 
The last thing he did was pull his pinky out of my ass, moving it 
in little circles as he withdrew it. It was like he was trying to 
widen the aperture. I don't think it worked, but at least it didn't 
hurt. Didn't feel half bad, actually.
     He stood straight beside the table and turned the cushion and 
me to our original position, with my ass perched at the edge. 
Again, he took my ankles in his hands and pulled my legs open, but 
this time he rested my calves on his shoulders. He stepped forward 
and his big, hard cock throbbed against my belly. His balls were 
pressed against my cunny and the head of his dick was almost on my 
belly button.
     He rocked back and forth,. The underside of his fat prick 
rubbed over my hairless pussy and massaged my swollen, protruding 
clit. It was making me crazy.
     Finally he backed up and took his dick in one hand. He put the 
knob against my cunt. 
     "Spread your little wings for me, baby," he said.
     I reached down between us and held my pussy lips wide. He 
rubbed and rotated the head of his dick in the oily cup formed by 
my opened pussy and then started pressing forward. 
     If I'd thought his cock felt big in my mouth, that was 
nothing; it was positively massive now. I felt like someone was 
slowly driving the fat end of a baseball bat into my little pussy. 
While it wasn't comfortable, it didn't hurt, either, but it was 
only exciting in an abstract way, not in real physical pleasure.
     He pressed it in and my cunt lips started to fold in with his 
dick. He pulled back and moved some of the lubrication around and 
then pushed again. This time the whole glans made it inside. I felt 
like it was possessing me from the inside. Again, my cunt lips 
started getting caught and again he withdrew to spread the 
lubrication.
     He did this three or four times, each time getting more and 
more into me and then the head was pressed through the inner 
constriction and I could feel it stretching the walls of my cunt.
     Now it did feel good. Oh, boy, did it feel good!
     "Unnnnnnh -- oh, give me more, give me mooooore," I moaned. He 
moved back and forth a little. Bit by bit, he was getting more of 
his fat, hard grownup prick into my fledgling cunt. It wasn't 
comfortable yet, but the arousal wasn't abstract now, either. I 
could almost feel it pushing my insides around and that was so 
strange it almost made me cum by itself.
     Then the end of his cock was banging into something deep 
inside me and that hurt. I let out a little yelp and he stopped and 
withdrew a bit.
     "Is--is it all in?"
     He shook his head. "No, baby, not all in."
     I couldn't believe him. I felt like it was reaching into my 
belly. I put my hand back down there and felt a good inch of his 
dick remaining outside. "I wanna see it," I said.
     He took my forearms in his hands and pulled me slightly 
upright so I could look down and see. An inch of his dick was 
uninserted. My pussy lips were stretched thin as rubber bands about 
it and my clitoris was pressed down almost against the back of his 
shaft by the stretching.
     He let me lay back and my feet fell from his shoulders and 
dangled limply to either side of his hips, from the knees down 
hanging off the pool table. I put one hand down there and pressed 
my clittie into the top of his shaft and then I started cumming 
again.
     "Awww, fuck me, Roger, fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckme..."
     Sound like I was delirious? It should, because I was.
     He moved in and out of me carefully at first, but every time 
he moved, his cock shaft massaged my clitoris and every time the 
little nubbin was touched I came; I was cumming every time he 
moved, every time my hips twitched, every time we breathed. And 
added to it was this big, thick dick moving deep inside me, faster 
and faster. I kept cumming even when he got a hand under my butt 
and slid his long middle finger up my ass.
     Now I was doubly filled, the finger in my ass compressing my 
little cunt even more around his cock. And I was cumming twice as 
hard. All the orgasms started to run together into one continuous 
spasm and then I passed out for a little bit. I know that's what 
happened because I remember everything drifting away when I felt 
his fat cock swell even more and then it was jerking, spewing hot 
wetness far, far inside me. He pressed one hand down over my 
abdomen, just above the plump little mound of my cunt, and 
everything went golden.
     I wasn't out for long, but when I became conscious again, his 
finger was already out of my ass and he had most of his cock out of 
my cunt. His dick was shriveling and when he pulled the plum-sized 
head of it out with audible plopping noise, a regular stream of goo 
-- a mixture of his juices and mine -- poured out and dripped on 
the table and floor.
     If his dick was getting limp, all it was doing was catching up 
with me. None of my muscles would work. I was utterly drained and 
tingling as if my skin was cumming. He bent and kissed me four 
times, gently, almost chastely -- on the forehead, on the lips, 
high on my belly and then, right on my cunt, pressing his lips into 
the flood of his sperm and my juices. Then he stood, scooped me in 
his arms and lay me down on one of the cushioned banquettes. He 
went for a towel. By the time he returned, I was on my belly; my 
butt wasn't that comfortable. Big surprise.
     He sat on the edge of the cushion next to me. He had his jeans 
on again and a fresh tee-shirt. He covered me with the towel and 
lightly stroked my back through it. That made me feel terrific, 
like what we'd done was special instead of something you sneak to 
do -- like it was a good, being-together thing.
     "How do you feel?"
     "My butt's sore," I said and giggled a little. He rested his 
hand lightly on one cheek. "But otherwise --- " I closed my eyes a 
hummed deep in my throat. "I feel wonderful. Just wonderful. You?"
     "The same. I still can't believe it. You're so little and 
young and -- But I feel good, baby, really good. And I feel like 
someone can like me again."
     I almost understood that at the time -- I understand it 
completely now, having been through a divorce -- but I knew I'd 
done something good as well as something that was incredibly 
pleasurable.
     He bent over and kissed me lightly and wetly on the nape of 
the neck. I shivered. "Wanna do it again?"
     He laughed against my damp flesh. "I'd love to. The spirit is 
willing but the flesh is weak."
     I groped till I found the lump his limp dick through his 
jeans. Even soft, it was nearly as big as Marty's was when it was 
hard. "Oh, I don't know," I said. "A little encouragement ... "
     He laughed. "We've been down here more than an hour."
     Which meant my cousin would be coming back soon. "Then I 
suppose I better get going. Can I rinse off somewhere?"
     "Shower's at the top of the stairs on the second floor, first 
door on the right."
     I rolled over and the towel fell. He kissed each of my nipples 
and helped me stand. I knew I should hurry, but I felt all 
lethargic and lazy, like a sated kitten, and walked naked to the 
stairs to the first floor. I hurried a little more getting up to 
the second floor. I liked the feel of the juices dribbling from 
between my again-tight cunt lips onto my thighs, the way the stuff 
lubricated my thighs when they touched as I walked.
     All of the accessories in the bedroom were hand-made of 
redwood; I guessed he'd built it all. It was quite different for a 
bathroom of the time and nice in a way. I took a hot, fast shower, 
scrubbing vigorously. When I stepped out of the shower, a little TV 
tray table awaited me in the hallway. On it were my shorts, a fresh 
tee-shirt that was almost the right size, my windbreaker -- and a 
tall tumbler of pop with ice in it. I could have cried, it was so 
considerate! No one had ever treated me like I was as special -- 
even more special -- after fucking. Before fucking, sure; but not 
after fucking. That was so terrific...
     On the way back down, I noticed on the stairway wall the 
black-and-white pictures that I hadn't noticed on the way up: a 
pretty brunette with great legs and a terrific figure and a pretty 
face. Roger had his arm around her waist in one picture.
     I ran over to him before he could get out of his reading chair 
and threw my arms around his neck and gave him a big hug and a 
kiss. "You are so sweet," I said.
     "Hey, baby, I enjoyed it, too."
     "Not just that," I said. "Bringing my things and the pop and-- 
well, that was so thoughtful."
     He shrugged as if it was nothing more than what was correct. 
His arm slid around me and he held me close. He dropped his hand to 
my rear and caressed my butt. "Your butt is like a peach," he 
whispered, "So hard and ripe and smooth -- I'd love to fuck you 
there."
     I gave him a playful slap on the arm. "Forget it! I could 
barely handle you in the right place!"
     "Maybe in a few years -- "
     "Say a hundred or so -- "
     We both chuckled, then he sighed. "Too bad. I do like doing 
that. A lot."
     I put my hand on the big bulge in his jeans. "With something 
this big ... Is that why your wife left you? It hurt too much?"
     He looked astonished. "She loved it. Hell, she introduced me 
to it!" He shook his head. "Where'd you get the idea she left me?"
     I blinked. "She didn't leave you?"
     "No."
     "That's what Charlene said -- "
     "Oh." His expression changed. "I threw her out. I told her if 
she contested my divorce application I'd have her jailed."
     "Jailed? For what?"
     He looked rueful. "For doing what I was doing today -- messing 
with a minor."
     I was bewildered and said so.
     "It's not all her fault," he said. "I was on the road too 
much, too eager to make a lot of money, I guess. Anyhow, I came 
back about a day early from a 'Frisco run and found her in bed -- 
with Tod."
     "My cousin?"
     He nodded.
     "Why would a pretty lady like her who was married to a guy 
like you want to do it with an asshole like Tod?"
     He held his hands up about a foot apart. "Tod's got a whanger 
so big, he makes me look like a little boy. Anyhow, I came home, 
heard noises, got my gun, came up, and found her on her hands and 
knees with Tod packing her ass. I put the gun to his head and he 
got instant impotence. Then I threw her out."
     "Was she hurt?"
     "Sure she -- Oh, I see what you mean. No, Brenda always liked 
them big -- the bigger the better."
     I shook my head slowly. "Charlene said some bad things about 
her, but hinted that she'd run away with someone."
     "Well, who likes to hear bad stuff about a brother?"
     "Charlene does. I mean, Tod raped her when she was nine."
     He looked horrified. "No wonder she's a little ... odd. He 
stuck that thing in her when she was nine?" He whistled. "Poor 
kid."
     "I better get going." I stood. "I want to do this again." 
     He shook his head. "Not a good idea."
     "But you liked it -- "
     "Maybe too much. I could get addicted to little girls and 
there are very, very few as mature and sensible and headstrong as 
you are, Marie."
     "I'm out here a lot, you know."
     He stood and put his arm around my shoulders, leading me to 
the door. "We'll see -- but no promises ... even though I want to 
at least as much as you do."
     I put my hand on the hard bar of flesh at the crotch of his 
jeans and squeezed and giggled. "I know you do."
     It took maybe thirty seconds to scamper next door, but in that 
time I had decided there would be no more little boys for me. If 
this was what it was like to fuck a real man, I wanted nothing 
less.
     If I'd known then what I know now, I would have phrased my 
resolution this way: I'm gonna make Lolita look like a nun.

CHAPTER FIVE

     April of that year left in a hurry and most of May hurried, 
too. I didn't get the chance to stay out at Charlene's again right 
away, but I knew Roger hadn't forgotten me. One Saturday morning 
there was a gorgeous little bookcase, just the right size, in the 
driveway beside our house. It was solid mahogany and beautifully 
finished and the card taped to it just said, "An early birthday 
present for a very special young lady." It was signed, only, "A 
secret admirer." I pretended utter ignorance, but sent Roger a 
thank-you note on the sly.
     I didn't get many chances for adventure and I was pretty much 
finished with kids near my age and there weren't any real prospects 
among the older guys or men in the neighborhood. I was walking 
around in a state of constant horniness, relieved only slightly by 
occasional games of stink-fink with Jeanne. That last week of May 
dragged on and Memorial weekend seemed to last forever. Dad went on 
a rampage on Memorial day because, apparently, of my sister, St. 
Alexis the Pure.
     Alexis always went around passing judgment and telling us 
things were wrong or sins. Anything. Everything. And here she'd 
gotten herself caught jerking off some jock in a Dodge. In the 
driveway. We're not talking about a Nobel Laureate here, as you can 

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


CHAPTER SIX

     I opened my eyes wide and looked up. A hard dick was throbbing 
above my head. I looked up farther. It was Vernon.
     "I mean, Vernon is ready if you are."
     To one side stood Ellen, juice coating the insides of her 
thighs and matting her thatch of thick pubic hair.
     "But you -- "
     "Believe me, honey, Vernon is always ready! You won't wear him 
out!" She laughed. "Besides, Vern's been telling me he was wanking 
off last night imagining what you'd be like and that just made him 
hotter with me. Have fun -- I'm going to get some beers!"
     Vern started to kneel but Ike told him to back off; he didn't 
want Vern's balls right over his face. I crawled off Ike and looked 
a question at him.
     "It's okay with me," he said, "as long as you don't freeze me 
out!"
     "No chance."
     Ike grinned and winked. 
     I knelt upright and pulled Vern's dick into my mouth., I 
tasted his juice and Ellen's on it. I didn't mind the taste, and 
the idea of it turned me on even more. Ike got himself on his back 
again and slithered forward till he had his face between my legs. 
He pulled my butt down till my cunt was in his mouth and started 
licking and sucking me some more. That just made me lick and suck 
good ol' Vern even more urgently. It wasn't long before my lips had 
Vern moaning and Ike's tongue had me moaning.
     Vern wanted to do it doggy style, which was new to me. Ike 
scuttled out of the way and Vern turned me onto my hands and knees 
and knelt behind me. My cunt was dripping and his cock was hard and 
he rammed right into me and started pounding. Ike stayed out of the 
way except to reach out and play with my nipples a little.
     Vern was hanging onto my hips and slamming into me and I was 
just rotating my bottom so his cock was always hitting in different 
places. I came a couple of times and then my arms just wouldn't 
hold me up any more, so I let my shoulders go down flat on the 
mattress. At that angle, Vern got even deeper into me. Then I felt 
his finger at my butt, but I was so busy cumming I didn't protest 
and to my surprise, it didn't hurt when it slid inside. In fact, I 
came some more, because it closed my cunt more around his cock -- 
as if my cunt wasn't tight enough already!
     But that extra tightness and my cumming put Vern over the edge 
and he came in me and pulled out. My butt settled onto my heels and 
I crouched them, just savoring the little aftershock orgasms. I 
looked up wide-eyed at the sounds of movement in the brush around 
us and saw most of the other kids were there. A few were couples 
busily coupling, but a lot of the others were just watching. 
     Ike was sitting crosslegged a few feet a way. His gorgeous 
cock was stiff again. "I want you again," I croaked.
     "Are we letting her join?" someone -- Reenie -- asked aloud.
     "I guess so," Ellen answered.
     "Yeah," said Ike. "Let's do it."
     "What -- ?" I asked.
     "You want to do it again?" Ike asked.
     "Oh, yesss...."
     "It won't be my turn though. Okay?"
     "Turn?"
     I suddenly understood.
     He was watching me. The thought of all those cocks -- !
     I reached between my legs and rubbed my pussy. "Do me," I 
whispered.
     Ike nodded to whoever was behind me, who then knelt, lifted my 
hips and fit his cock into me. I was plenty wet on my own and had 
two loads dumped in there and he slid right in. I groaned and kept 
my hand on my clit as he pumped my. I came again, a couple of 
times, then he did, too, and then someone else was sliding into me.
     "See, there's not many people our age on the island," Ike was 
explaining. He was stroking his cock and watching me get fucked 
at the same time -- and he was talking as if he were explaining how 
to change a tire. "Reenie and I went together when we were twelve--"
     "And went -- and went --" Reenie said, and laughed.
     "But then I got mixed up with Helene and she started messing 
with Vern and then I got mixed up with Jill and she started 
throwing it to Bobby and Vern was doing it with Helene. And what 
was funny was we didn't stay jealous very long. When Bobby popped 
Ellen, she went and talked to Reenie and Reenie said it was okay 
and pretty soon, none of us really got jealous when whoever we were 
going with started messing with someone else -- from our group."
     The guy behind me came in me. Ike paused, watching me cum. I 
couldn't believe this was happening.
     "But someone came in here about two years ago -- "
     "Me!" called a pudgy girl. Doris, I think her name was.
     "And she got all upset when Vern -- "
     "Who else?" Ellen cracked.
     "Went for an old-times'-sake roll with Helene. So Vern had 
this great idea and explained it to her."
     "And now," said Reenie, kneeling beside me and caressing my 
face as I came yet again, "if someone new wants to play with any 
of us, you have to play with all of us. Helps keep anyone from 
getting possessive." She trailed her fingers down and trilled her 
nails over the side of my breast where it was pressed out by my 
weight on it. I shivered and came again.
     My cunt was vacant and I resented it. "More, please?"
     "Maybe it'd be better if -- well, I'd really like to be sucked 
off," someone said. "Do you mind?"
     "I want to cum some more, too," I said.
     "No problem," said Reenie. She rolled me onto my side and 
started kissing and licking my cunt. Another pair of lips started 
kissing my butt and then a tongue was burrowing in between. "You 
have such a pretty little ass," Ike said from behind me.
     "Okay?" said a voice as I shivered through another orgasm from 
what Reenie was doing. A boy -- Bobby -- was laying on his side so 
his cock was presented to my mouth. It was enormous, as long as 
Roger's, but even thicker. I got most of the head in my mouth 
and sucked as hard as I could, considering my concentration was 
being ruined by the mouth on my cunt and the tongue tracing my ass, 
and the hand -- Reenie's -- that had come up to caress my tits. 
     I put one hand on the shaft of Bobby's cock. I couldn't close 
my fingers around it. I pumped and stroked though, and it wasn't 
long before he was cumming. He'd been so sweet about it that I kept 
sucking when he flooded me with that hot, thick custard, and 
swallowed as much as I could. He came a lot and the idea of what I 
was doing drove me higher. I was absolutely stoned on sex.
     I don't know how many times I came that night. I do know that 
I passed out a couple of times but -- I was told -- I kept cumming 
even then. A couple of the girls ate me out and I ate them out and 
Vern stuck his tongue into my butt as much as he could. Most 
of the other girls got fucked, too. I know I fucked all the guys at 
least twice and some came back for thirdsies. And I loved every 
minute of it. 
     For a while, I was getting fucked from behind by one guy 
while I sucked another one. After a bit I was too far gone to suck 
much, so I just let them move their cocks between my lips and when 
the one in my cunt came, the one in my mouth would move back there 
and another cock would be presented to my lips. Bobby, of course, 
came in my mouth every time. At one point I was being fucked from 
behind while I ate Reenie. That was so exciting it almost makes me 
cum just to think about it, especially since at the same time, she 
was sucking off -- who else? -- Bobby.
     Then came the most memorable part of all. Someone -- I think 
it was Walt -- pulled out as he was cumming and dumped his goo all 
over my butt. He held his cock right against my anus, not trying to 
probe, and let it squirt right on the opening. I didn't understand, 
but at that stage I wouldn't have understood instructions for 
dialing a telephone number. All I knew was that I was cumming 
almost constantly and I never wanted it to stop. My mouth was 
tired, my pussy was sore, but I wanted more!
     I got it. Oh, boy, did I get it!
     Ike lay on his back beside me and pulled me on top of him. He 
kissed me on the mouth, long and deep, right into all the sperm 
(mostly Bobby's) that had been dumped there as if he could care 
less, as if what mattered was kissing me. my legs slipped apart and 
I felt his cock against my thigh. I scooted down a little and he 
slid into me and I groaned as I settled down on it.
     I had my arms around his neck and was pressed flat against 
him, just our hips moving and me, of course, cumming, when I felt 
someone kneeling back there. I felt a hard dick against my ass and 
knew what was coming. I wasn't sure but -- 
     "Are you ready for this?" Ike asked.
     "Anything," I whispered. Ike nodded and pulled my ass cheeks 
apart and pulled me down onto him.
     "I've been wanting that beautiful little ass of yours since I 
first saw you," Vern said from behind and above me.
     Ike stayed still in my cunt -- which was not staying still on 
him -- as Vern put the head of his dick against my tight little 
butt-hole. I stiffened, not sure about the discomfort. I tried to 
relax and open my butt and Vern pressed down and in a little. As my 
anus was forced open, my pussy squeezed Ike's dick and it twitched 
inside me. That felt good -- all the better for the extra 
compression.
     "Do it, Vern," I croaked as loud as I could. "But slow and 
easy." For the moment, my orgasms had stopped.
     Vern did it. He pushed a little more. I thought my ass was 
going to split -- and then the head of his dick popped past the 
sphincters.
     "Hold it right there for a minute," I gasped. I could feel the 
two dicks, hard and ready and eager. I tried to relax again, with 
little success, but after a few seconds I whispered, "Slow and 
easy."
     Vern did it just that way, too -- slow and easy. But also 
nonstop. His implacable shaft slid steadily into me, probing deeper 
and deeper. I was grateful now for the load Walt had shot on my 
ass; it lubricated Vern's prick for the tight passage it was 
spreading. When he was halfway in I started groaning, a long sound 
that continued till I felt his pubic hair against my butt.
     "Just hold still for a minute, both of you, 'kay?"
     "Sure, baby," Ike said and kissed the top of my head. 
     I moved my hips just a little, kind of an experiment. It 
didn't hurt but it wasn't comfortable yet, either. But I could feel 
those two hard young pricks buried to the bone in me, pressing 
against each other through the little membrane separating the 
parallel channels. I felt absolutely stuffed, fore and aft.
     "Careful, now," I said. 
     Vern moved a little, maybe a half-inch, but I felt it as if it 
was a foot. I also felt the way it moved the compression of my cunt 
on Ike's dick, which twitched in response and sent a little shudder 
of pleasure through me. Ike moved his hips a little so his dick 
slid halfway out, then he pushed it all the way back in again.
     "You're so tight!" he gasped at me. "I don't think I can hold 
it!"
     I kissed his nipple and nipped it lightly with my teeth. 
"Don't hold it," I said. "Fuck me hard."
     Well, he did, but Vernon thought I'd been talking to him, too. 
He pulled back till his glans was hung up on my sphincter and then 
he rammed into me. I bit Ike's chest -- tasted blood -- trying to 
stifle my scream. My cunt and ass tightened on both pricks.
     Ike was fucking in and out of me like a madman, moaning about 
how tight and hot and wet I was. Vern pulled back again and drove 
his cock into my ass. Again I bit Ike's chest and Vern moved 
faster and faster and then, suddenly, I started to have an orgasm.
     It was amazing, like breaking through to someplace new! I came 
and came and came and those two hard young cocks pumped me from 
both sides, stretching and reaming me and filling me. Vern fell 
flat atop me, adding his weight to mine on Ike, and flailed away, 
fucking my ass with short, hard little strokes as if he were 
pumping a cunt. Ike was sawing his longer dick in and out of my 
cunt. At one point they were syncopated, one moving in while the 
other moved out. Then they were coordinated, plundering my little 
body in unison. 
     And I kept cumming and cumming, uncontrollably, sobbing and 
whimpering.
     Then Vern started shaking. "I'm gonna cum, buddy!" he gasped.
     "Both -- cum -- in me -- " I choked out between spasms.
     That did it for Ike, too. Both of them began pumping in short 
little strokes, violent strokes, pounding their swelling, twitching 
dicks into me as far as they'd go, which seemed pretty damn far. 
Then Vern -- and then Ike -- hunched against me. I could feel two 
sets of balls against my thighs, two pubic mats against me, and 
then, two cocks jerking and throbbing and flooding me. I felt 
Vern's juices flooding my bowels and I felt Ike's cock swelling in 
my cunt and knew he was spurting in there and all the orgasms and 
horniness rolled up inside me and let go at once. I locked up, 
frozen, between and around them and came harder and harder and 
harder, a single orgasm that just kept getting more intense. With my 
cum-drenched little body sandwiched between the two big sixteen-
year-olds, I just kept cumming until, finally, everything was one 
big orgasm and I knew nothing but orgasm and then I knew nothing, 'cause 
I finally passed out -- cold.
     When I came to, I was a sandwich again, but no one was inside 
me and I felt firm, lush breasts against my back. Reenie whispered, 
"Are you okay, sweety?"
     I nodded against Ike's shoulder. I couldn't do much more than 
that at the moment. Vern put one of the sheets over us, against the 
cooling night air. My pussy still throbbed, but my butt was numb.
     "Some of us have tried doing that," she said. "Ellen liked it 
a lot. But I've never seen anyone cum like that, not that way." She 
shivered. Her nipples were stiff against my bare back. I wriggled 
against her. She had one hand on my belly. Ike kissed my ear. I 
felt utterly content for the first time. Thoroughly fucked, 
thoroughly sated and now, loved and hugged and valued and caressed 
and cuddled.
     Ike and Reenie and Vern and Ellen helped me get myself cleaned 
up and put together. We sat around and rested. Reenie and Ellen got 
me back to the house around midnight. Everyone else in the house 
was asleep, which was fine by me.
     That was the first time I'd pulled a train and it was the last 
for quite a while. During the rest of the two weeks, I got into 
some more group scenes, once with Helene and Reenie -- as nice as 
it was, I missed cocks -- and once with Ike and Reenie, at Reenie's 
house when the rest of her family was on a shopping expedition on 
the mainland. That was really nice. I think my favorite thing was 
laying on top of Reenie, licking her sweet, luxurious cunt while 
she sucked and nibbled my almost-hairless little slit -- and Ike 
sawed his hard dong slowly in and out. I came constantly, but it 
was wonderfully gentle waves of ecstasy and left me revived rather 
than enervated. Give me a couple -- male and female -- any time.
     Bobby and I got it on alone once, and after I'd sucked him off 
twice, I asked if he ever wanted to just plain ol' fuck. He said, 
Sure, but he wasn't sure about my being able to take his thick 
dick. Well, with patience and perseverance, I did, he did and it 
was fine -- but I was sore for two days, inside and out.
     When we got on the ferry back to Port Clinton, Mom and Dad 
said they were glad I'd made some friends so I wasn't bored. Even 
then I recognized the pun. 
     Alexis cried and Jeanne was silent and the boys were cranky 
and I was just, well, contented. 
     The islanders and I wrote occasionally, but island kids tend 
to leave as soon as they can; there's little future there. In later 
years I encountered a few of them. Ellen became a Moonie after Vern 
was killed in 'Nam and Reenie had joined a commune somewhere in 
Vermont. Ike was killed by a drunk driver on the Ohio Turnpike, 
near Elyria. Most of the others vanished from my life, but left me 
with an absolutely lovely set of memories.
     I did get another shot at Roger that summer and tried to 
buttfuck him -- it was near his birthday -- but he stopped before 
half his fat prickhead was in me. "I want to get in your butt, 
baby," he said, "but not when it'll put hurtin' on you." We found 
some enjoyable alternatives.
     That was over Labor Day Weekend. Then my eighth and last year 
in the prison school started. That was the year Ed Sautter
started the photography club at the high school and I became a 
star.

CHAPTER SEVEN

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

CHAPTER 8

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


CHAPTER NINE

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


CHAPTER 10

     By the time he arrived, I was in a state. I'd dome everything I 
could to prepare -- tanned like crazy, read up all I could about his 
damn ol' Mets, even bought a sexy peignoir -- and laid in plans for It. 
I was determined to seduce my step-brother. 
     The night before he was arrive at Toledo Express Airport (which he 
always referred to as "Toledo International Spaceport," just to rub it 
in) I showered and stood bare-butt naked in from of the mirror on the 
back of the door to the room I shared with Jeanne. I looked myself over.
     All of a sudden, in the past three weeks, I'd started developing 
again -- wildly. My bust was up to a 29C and my waist was still a little 
bitty 19 and my hips were barely 26 inches. I was as tan as I could be 
and my hair, which hadn't been more than trimmed in six months, reached 
straight and sleek halfway down my back. When I looked at myself in the 
mirror, I knew I was damn sexy and I knew that if I couldn't get to him 
now, I never would. 
     I also knew I had to be Cool -- not too pushy, very much in control. 
I had it all planned out, oh yes I did.
     I went with Dad and Mom to the airport to meet him. He hugged me 
the way he hugged everyone else and I made damn sure that the sleeveless 
top I wore was the only thing I wore on top, so he could feel my boobs 
press into him. I sat next to him in the station wagon as Dad drove us 
all back from the airport, and I made sure I was scrunched over so my 
thigh (bare beneath the cutoffs jeans) was against his. And I could not 
remember a thing about staying cool. Because he was an absolute fox.
     He was a little under six feet tall and had this light brown hair, 
except for a -- can you believe it? -- red forelock and had these really 
light hazel eyes and a cute face and what a damn built he had on him! 
He'd picked up his suitcases from the conveyor belt as if they'd been 
empty; when Jeanne and I tried to help we nearly got ruptured. Even Dad 
couldn't lift one of them that easily!
     All the way back from the airport we made small talk, and he was 
always completely in control. When we passed Route 23 and I leaned over 
(supposedly) to point to the new bowling alleys (and not incidentally 
press my boobs into his arm) he just gave me a quick glance and a funny 
little half-smile and I wanted to cross my legs 'cause I was getting so 
wet down there.
     By the time we'd reached the house, Mom had already told him I was 
having some friends over for a slumber party (heh) and since Dad was on 
midnight shifts and she tired out early, he agreed to watch over us 
kids (double-heh) that night.
     All was in readiness.
     I brushed my teeth twice and showered and then gargled and showered 
again and generally made myself as clean as possible. Then I doused 
myself with Windsong and paraded around the house after dinner in my 
swimsuit bottoms and a tee-shirt and nothing else and told him I hoped 
he didn't mind watching us, et cetera, and found every excuse I could to 
lean against him.
     At seven, my friends started arriving and at eight he had finished 
calling all the aunts, uncles and cousins he had to touch base with. At 
nine, my brothers were sent to bed and Jeanne, pleading weariness, sacked 
it. Alexis was out on a date and Mom was fading fast. At ten, Dad was 
dressed and ready to leave for work (he always got to work early; Dad was 
a Depression baby and believed in showing up very early) and Mom was 
fighting to stay awake.
     At ten-thirty, it was four of my friends and me and my phantom 
step-brother, who was sitting at the dining room table, reading a 
paperback and scarfing down peanut butter sandwiches.
     At eleven, I sprung my trap. I pulled a chair away from the table 
and sat facing him.
     "Yes?" he asked, looking up from his PB&Js and his book.
     "Antisocial?"
     He grinned and closed the book. "Meaning?"
     "Come in and talk to us. Lisa's here, y'know."
     "Lisa's still five years younger  than  me,"  he  said,  not
inaccurately. "And she'd probably prefer not to be reminded of the potato 
chips."
     I laughed at that. He hadn't forgotten any more than I -- or Lisa 
-- had forgotten. "We'd like you tell us about what it's like being in 
New York."
     He put that stare of his on me. Held it for about a ten-count. Then 
smiled oddly and shook his head. "Somehow, I don't imagine a bunch of 
thirteen-year-old kids really being that interested in life in Brooklyn."
     "Oh, come in and talk to us." I squirmed in mock-coquettishness, 
"There's a bunch of nubile young women waiting fro the pleasure of your 
company."
     I thought he'd choke, holding back  the  laughter.  Finally:
"'Nubile'?" He rose and stood beside my chair. He was wearing faded old 
jeans and a Mets tee-shirt and I was fully prepared to unzip and gulp him 
right then and there. "Lead on," he said, fighting a grin.
     I stood, letting myself get closer than I had to, and drew him by 
the hand into the family room. 
     "Look what I found," I announced. 
     "This calls for a beer," said Dana Connally. And produced same 
from her huge overnight bag. Debbie didn't have much in the way of a 
figure, but what she had, she knew how to use. She was wearing a flannel 
shorty nightgown and it somehow was sexier on her than my filmy little 
peignoir could ever be. I grabbed one of her beers and gulped it. Dan 
merely watched as I let myself fall into the old recliner. He was 
sitting on the old couch, no more than two feet away. Lisa was next to 
him and Dana was on the other side of Lisa from her. The other two, 
Angela and Barb, were on the floor, far, far away and dubious -- and 
fading fast.
     The beer hit me fast and hard. I said things I shouldn't have said, 
even mentioned the potato chips. Dan reached past Dana to put his arm 
around Lisa and said he would have kept them to that very day if they 
hadn't gone stale and soft with age. Lisa blushed and scurried away. 
Debbie squirmed in closer to him and grabbed his hand and held it.
     I was still in the armchair. I asked him if he had a girlfriend and 
tried to steer things in that direction. Occasionally, I made some snide 
remarks to Debbie -- about where she was putting her hand, about how 
short her nightie was -- and generally got stupid.  My  plan  was
dissolving.
     Somehow, the subject turned to comparing Ohio girls with New York 
girls, he said New York girls were more sophisticated in some ways, but 
Ohio girls were a little more direct -- and he liked that.
     "What do you mean?"
     "Well, in New York, girls play games, act like they don't want the 
same things the guys want -- like what they've got is some kind of 
prize, y'know? Here, the girls don't mind letting it be known what they 
like and what they don't want. I like the honesty."
     "You mean girls here are easier."
     "Not 'bad' easier, but...less hung up. Yeah, easier, if honest 
means easy." He paused and grinned. "And healthier."
     "Waddya mean?"
     "Girls out here seem to grow up physically a lot sooner and more 
emphatically."
     He winked at me.
     "You mean, like bigger tits sooner?" Dana asked. 
     "You betcha."
     "Like Marie's?" she asked.
     "Yeah. Too bad she's just a kid."
     I took offense at that and opened the robe of my peignoir. I wasn't 
wearing a bra beneath the chemise and it was all lacy and a little too 
tight on my tits. "Who's a kid?" I demanded.
     "Marie, you're all growed out real good," he said. "But you're my 
sister and you're still too young."
     Blame it on the beer. I ran my hands up and cupped my tits. "'If 
they're big enough, they're old enough.' Isn't that what they say? And 
aren't these big enough?"
     He pulled his gaze from my breasts to my eyes. "Don't fuck with my 
head," he said quietly. "You know I like you, you know I think you're 
sexy and you know you're my sister."
     "And you know were not related by blood, so don;t give me that...or 
are you just mouthing off about me being attractive?"
     "Sure, and the first time I touch you, you'll go screaming."
     "No I won't. Go on -- do it."
     And there, in that dimly lit room, he leaned forward and put his 
hand on my bare shoulder. He slid it down and just barely pressed my 
breasts through the bodice of the chemise. I damn near came right then 
and there. When his palm was over my right nipple, I said, "I'm not 
screaming."
     His fingers closed on my nipple through the satin and he pulled it a 
bit. And said: "Are you trying to prove something to me, to you -- or to 
your friends?"
     For a few minutes, it had just been him and me,  but  now  I
remembered the others sitting around and I thought of the stories they 
would tell...
     He took his hand away. "I think it's time to call it a night. Enjoy 
your party, girls." He got up and went into the living room, where his 
pullout was.
     There were more beers and then we all sort of crashed, there on the 
floor, on the couch and on cushions and Angie just sprawled on some 
blankets and slept. The beer took its toll on me and I was out pretty 
fast.
     It took another toll, too. Around dawn I got up to pee and that was 
when I heard the noises in the living room. I crept silently to the 
corner, at the place where the stairs went up, and that was when I saw 
Dana betray me.
     Dan was sitting on the living room couch, perched on the edge of 
the cushion, and Dana was straddling him. They were kissing hot and wet 
and with a lot of tongue. I watched him slide his hands up under her 
nightgown and then he was lifting it. She didn't have much in the way 
of tits, but what she had got plenty of attention. Dan licked and kissed 
and sucked those hard little mounds while she, all long and lean and 
lanky and sinuous, held his face against them. 
     He moved one hand down to rub around he cunt. She didn't have much 
hair down there, but she had what he was looking or -- and vice versa. I 
could hear his finger squish into her and her breathing got faster.
     I also heard his soft sigh when he pulled his dick out through the 
opening in his briefs and settled her onto it. Dana was taller than me 
by a good seven or eight inches, but her hips and butt were almost as 
small as mine and she had to work her way down onto him. I only got a 
glimpse, but his cock was about average length and a little thicker than 
most and hard as a bar of iron. It was a tight fit and all the time she 
was settling onto it, he kept licking and sucking her nipples.
     I could have killed her. I was the one who wanted him! Besides -- 
he was MY brother!
     He put his hands on her skinny hips and guided her as she worked up 
and down, back and forth. She was long-legged, Dana was, and had her 
feet on the floor on either side of his legs. She did the work, but I 
could hear both of them breathing harder and I could hear her cunt suck 
and squish on him as she moved up and down.
     He settled against the back of the couch, his butt still perched at 
the edge of the cushion, and moved his hands up to hold her forearms as 
she leaned back. Both of them began moving, faster and faster.I saw her 
bite her lower lip when she started to cum and then he hunched his hips 
up at her and held them there and I knew he was cumming in her.
     Damn her!
     He pulled her forward against him and I heard his dick slurp out o 
her as he kissed her lips and cradled her to him, exactly the way and 
the time I'd always wanted.
     She slithered out of his arms an knelt between his leg and kissed 
and sucked his spermy dick until it was clean. Then she rearranged her 
nightgown and whispered something to him.
     I scurried back to my cushions on the floor just before  she
reappeared in the TV room. All I could think of was the fact that she 
had his cum in her cunt, and I did not.
     I spent most of the next day sulking. I was not a good hostess to 
Angela and Barb and I was downright rude to Dana. And she seemed to know 
I knew what had gone on and worse, to know I was wildly jealous. I 
determined to make my phantom step-brother spend a lot of time dating 
the Palm Sisters by showing off my assets for him whenever I could get 
away with it. The problem was that I didn't get much of a chance. That 
day he went out to a small town about 45 miles from our house to visit 
other relatives and the next day he went out there again. Our mutual 
cousin Shana explained: Dan apparently had developed a terrific crush on 
Dorothy, a friend of hers with a sweet face, a gentle disposition and a 
Body by Hefner.
     Shana was willing to talk about it in some detail. She and Dan had 
kept up a regular correspondence year-round -- which I'd known about for 
quite a while -- and they had a lot to talk about. She'd arranged for a 
bunch of her friends from school -- most of whom were close to her and 
Dan's age -- to wander over to the Dairy Queen by the quarry-cum-town-
swimming-hole and Hang Out. He and Dorothy had taken an immediate shine 
to each other, which was no surprise in either direction. Shana knew 
there'd been some smooching and groping, but doubted it had gone very 
much farther than that. Dorothy had a reputation for politely-but-firmly 
refusing to Go Too Far.
     It was enough to put Dorothy on my perpetual hit list, thinking 
about her acting like a priss and leaving my gorgeous Dan with blue 
balls. Grrrrrr.
     The next day he spent helping Mom around the house and with her 
chores and I spent most of it flashing him. It had an effect, much to my 
pleasure. I kept thinking, Look what you missed and eat your heart out! 
     What I really wanted, though, was to tell him to eat me.
     The next day, a Friday, he was going out there again. This time he 
was to stay over with Aunt Mimi -- Shana's Mom -- and I decided it was 
time to cultivate Shana's little sister, Irene. She was about my age, 
but looked a lot more like it, maybe even less. But she was bright and a 
bit hyperactive and jealous of the girls who, like Annette Funicello, 
"already got theirs" and determined to prove herself in competition with 
them, i.e., get the guys. She hadn't seen Dan yet on this visit -- she'd 
been away at a horse farm for a couple of days -- and was really looking 
forward to the visit. Eventually, by clever manipulation and downright 
lying, I lured her into "deciding" it would be nice for me to stay for 
an overnighter at the same time Dan did. 
     The way I figured it, I would wait until Dan got back from what was 
sure to be a heated and -- ultimately -- frustrating evening with 
Dorothy and then I'd have him! Aha!
     Shana and Dan kissed lightly and sweetly, a non-erotic peck of 
warmth and greeting and then we all piled into the Blue Bomb -- a seven-
year-old Buick she was entitled to drive by virtue of her age and 
relatively rural location. I would have been pleased and excited at the 
start of my little adventure, except that Shana had a  passenger:
Dorothy.
     She was absolutely lovely and unselfconsciously sexy at the same 
time, with her dark hair and flawless complexion and full lips and wide 
eyes and that amazing damn body with those fantastically firm, full tits 
under a tee-shirt and barely contained by a bra I was sure she wore more 
for modesty than support. She was sixteen and in full bloom. I think of 
how she looked through the window of the Blue Bomb and I can understand 
why it was not unusual for our grandparents and great-grandparents to 
marry at fifteen and sixteen. 
     Shana made some joke about it, but I didn't laugh when I found 
myself in the front seat with my cousin...leaving Dorothy and Dan in the 
back. The held hands tightly through the entire forty-minute drive. I 
dared sneak only two or three glances back at them all the time.
     Those Buicks were big. There was plenty of room. Most of it was 
unused because they were very close together.
     Still, it was impossible to keep a mad on at Aunt Mimi's. She and 
Uncle Don got married when she was fifteen and he was seventeen and the 
love between them pervaded the entire old ramshackle house. She was a 
big, rawboned, horsy-faced lady of indeterminate years and great big 
laughing eyes that made you forget the moustache that never seemed to go 
away (no matter what she did) and the little stubble of a beard s'help 
me on her chin. She made a fuss over Dan, of course, and over me and 
kidded me about the way my figure had developed. Somehow, the way she 
did it, made it seem remarkable that I had such a body, but perfectly 
Okay and Set Yerself Down Here and Have Some Pop and Tell Yer Old Aunt 
Mimi What You've Been Up To, Why Doncha? We had dropped Dorothy at her 
house and Dan was nice and polite and went into the back yard to talk 
with Shana about her drawings and her first pastels.
     All of which was fine until we heard car doors slam. Dan went into 
the living room to greet Irene. She was all lithe and lean and tousled 
blonde hair and little kiddish with tiny bumps inside her shirt and she 
greeted Dan by jumping him!
     Yeah, she literally jumped up on him, wrapping her arms around his 
neck and her legs around his hips. She kissed him right on the mouth, 
hard and maybe deep and Dan went all red in the face and pulled her off 
him. I could see a bulge in his cutoff jeans. He tried to hide it, but 
failed. Irene had two of her little friends with her and a few minutes 
later, cousin Timmy -- Shana's big brother and Aunt Mimi's oldest -- 
came in. 
     Timmy was Dan's age and a really ruggedly handsome guy even then. 
Unfortunately, some of the circuits in his head didn't work. Timmy 
couldn't deal with books and reading or any kind of pressure; he would 
go into these fits. And he was not particularly gentle, either. Timmy 
did what he liked and could get away with.  I  was  never  really
comfortable around him and I could see Dan wasn't, either, but he was 
polite and tried to be warm, which was more than I could do. See, any 
time Timmy was alone with me, he was always grabbing my tits -- hard.
     I had to follow through with my charade and immediately diverted 
Irene -- who seemed reluctant to leave Dan, which bothered me. She took 
me to her room an I went through what was probably the bonding ritual of 
girls our age at that time, discussing boys, the Beatles, clothes, the 
Beatles, jealousies, the Beatles, free love, the Beatles, the new 
Rolling Stones poster (clearly showing Mick's bulge) and, of course, the 
Beatles.
     [My favorite was George. Okay? Thank you.]
     We listened to some 45s and then we were going over to the DQ -- 
     [Dairy Queen.]
     -- to hang out. I was very agreeable to this, as I knew that 
eventually, Dan and Dorothy would show up there. The adjacent park -- 
Veteran's -- was about the only place they could go and fool around, 
since neither had wheels. I hated the idea, yet I wanted to see them 
together. I dunno why; I just did.
     Anyhow, going over to the DQ and meeting Irene's friends was about 
as exciting as I expected -- deadly dull. The boys in the crowd were 
typical of boys my age, which is to say I had outgrown them a long time 
ago, but they kept trying to "accidentally" touch my tits or get me 
alone. 
     After what seemed like years there, Irene and I walked back to her 
house. She told me she was glad I had spurned -- she used that word -- 
the boys who were turned on by my tits. She hoped that would help them 
look for other qualities in a girl.
     I told her to hold her breath till they were nineteen or so.
     She asked, How do you know? and I, like an idiot, told her a little 
bit and hinted at more.
     [Why "like an idiot"? Listen -- and stop interrupting me -- and I'll 
tell you.]
     Well, Irene decided that meant she could tell me stuff. Like, for 
one, she'd Done It. She wouldn't tell me who, but she had done it and 
more than once and she liked it. A lot. She also told me that at some 
point during the day -- probably when she went downstairs to get the 
disgusting Cherry Kool-Aid for us -- she'd been briefly alone with Dan 
and kissed him again and touched his hard on. He'd made her stop.
     He'd told her she was a little young for that and she'd told him 
she was more than willing to give him a demonstration of her abilities 
and he'd told her she should wait a little longer for that.
     By the time she finished the tale -- and we were nearing her house, 
in the dark small-town Ohio July night -- her nipples were stiff as 
pencil points inside her sadly flat tee-shirt.
     "And I really want to -- y'know -- DO IT with him now."
     That was when we heard the noise from the side of the house. 
Quietly, we crept to the edge of the hedge and looked.
     My phantom step-brother was licking Dorothy's nipples.
     They were clinching in the shadows near a tree -- an elm,  I