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Chapter 5

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The next morning's cool sunlight shone on the white clapboard house but instead of everyone in the Lostridge family diving into the day through their own self-absorbed routine, there was studied quiet in the house on Bedlow Street. Rebecca ate quietly and walked to school. Bud was up early but dawdled over his cereal, paddling his corn flakes around the bowl of milk. And when RJ pried himself out of bed and crept into the bathroom, he had had to gently unwrap Harriet's arms from his chest.

Harriet lay in the dappled sunshine, listening to her house grow quiet before she pushed the coverlet back and walked to the shower without bothering with a robe. Climbing into the shower, she turned the knobs but no water came from the tap. The pipes banged and shuddered but she heard only a rush of air. Screwing the knobs closed, Harriet wrapped herself in a towel and retreated to the bedroom. 

Throwing on a housecoat, she yelled down the stairs, "Millie. Millie is there any water in the kitchen?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Mistah RJ told me he couldn't git any in the sink and I didn't know you was still at home so I's already called the plumber. He said he'd be right over."

Still in her housecoat, Harriet showed the plumber to the upstairs bathroom. She leaned against the linen closet and admired the way his worn denim shirt stretched across a muscular chest. When he turned around, she could see how his bottom filled out the seat of his dungarees. She especially appreciated the wiry muscles of his back when his shirt rode up. The thought of the rest of his body made her clench her thighs and resist the urge to slip a hand into her tingling snatch. 

The plumber unpacked his tools and crawled under the vanity to look at the piping. As he lay on his back under the sink, Harriet found herself staring at the lump in his trousers. His cock, she told herself. It was a word that she hadn't used, hadn't thought about using, in years but after what she'd seen in the kitchen she'd used it last night. Hell, after what she'd done in her bedroom last night, she was ready to call a spade a spade.

He hadn't discovered the problem under the sink, so he moved on to the shower itself. He turned to tell her something but paused when he saw the strange look on her face.

"Uhh. If I can't get at the problem from here, I might have to take down some of the wall to get at the pipes."

"You can take down any walls you want," she said, trying to make a joke. Seeing his puzzled expression, she quickly added, "Whatever it takes to get some hot water."

Hefting his wrench, the young man stepped into the shower stall and set his tool to the base of the shower knobs. It seemed to be stuck and Harriet enjoyed the sight of his muscles bulging as he tried to twist the stubborn nut. All of a sudden the nut gave way, carrying a couple of inches of pipe along with it. 

Water sprayed everywhere; soaking them both in the seconds it took him to turn the main valve under the sink. Harriet plucked at her clothes, suddenly aware that she was naked under her thin house dress. The thin cotton outfit molded to her body, displaying her curves to the strapping young man. 

"At least we know where the problem was," she laughed. 

Stepping sideways, she closed the door behind her. She wet her lips and crossed the small space that separated them. Water dripped off of her chin and made his shirt stick to his well-developed chest. He tried to back away but found himself trapped against the vanity.

"I - I'm really sorry Mrs. Lostridge," he stammered. 

Harriet silenced him with a finger placed gently on his lips. Her other hand undid the buttons on her robe.

"We've just got to get out of these wet clothes."

He thought briefly about protesting but the sight of her large breasts, capped with round coral-tinted areolas, stifled any sound he might have made. Her wet clothing hit the floor with a wet slap. She leaned against the vanity and cocked her hip toward him. His eyes roamed over her voluptuous form from her breasts across her softly rounded belly to the strawberry curls that covered her quim. 

"Now it's your turn," she purred, idly flicking one of her nipples back and forth. "And then once you've toweled off, you can show me your idea of an apology."

He kicked off his boots and peeled off his clothing. Harriet, holding a hand towel, dabbed at his muscles until she arrived at his crotch. His cock was long and lean, just like the rest of his body. There, she used both hands to make sure that he was warm and dry. 

When he reached for her, she held him off and perched herself on the edge of the vanity. His cock bobbed in front of him in midair, pointing straight at the furry place between her legs. She guided him into her pussy and clasped her legs around his waist. He took one of her erect nipples into his greedy mouth and sucked hard as he probed her wet depths with his stiff prong. Harriet's head fell back and she let the stranger pummel her willing twat. 

By the time he finally left, almost an hour later, the young plumber had fucked Harriet to orgasm, replaced the broken pipe, and had the pleasure of watching her take a shower. From the front porch, she watched him load his truck and drive away, only slightly concerned about what he might tell his friends. Once his truck had turned off the street, she slumped against the front door, her face buried in her hands, and wondered what had become of her.

-=)0(=-

While Harriet worked with the plumber, RJ cornered Elsa in his office. Still enflamed by Harriet's change of pace, RJ pressed his swollen groin to her firm ass. He wasn't interested in seduction. Harriet's sudden enthusiasm gave him a taste for something spontaneous and risky. 

His hand groped for the hem of her dress, dragging his fingers roughly across her silk stocking on their way up her thigh. Snapping one of her garters open, his fingers probed her panties and felt her moistness. She moaned and spread her legs, arching her back to offer him her ass. He pushed the elastic aside and fingered her wet quim.

"Elsa, you surprise me," he said, flipping her dress up over her waist. "I never dreamed you'd be, well, so responsive to this method."

RJ removed his hands from her underpants and unsnapped her garters. Elsa bent across his desk, offering her white ass to him. He gathered the fabric of her panties in his hands and slowly pulled them down to expose her fleshy sex. At the touch of his hands, she quivered like a baby rabbit. RJ felt a surge of raw power. He freed himself while he stroked her pussy, playing his fingers through the sparse, dark red hair that lay there.

Aiming his manhood with one hand, he placed the fat knob of his cock inside the gate of her sex. He groaned as he felt her tunnel grip his pick. He pressed forward patiently, gaining a little more depth with each thrust. Elsa gripped the far edge of the desk with white knuckles, biting her lip to keep from crying out and alerting the office to what was going on. 

RJ took his time sinking his shaft into his willing, submissive protégé. He savored the feel of her tightness. The sensation that he was slowly splitting her open with his cock made him feel like a teenager again. The incredible friction soon consumed his senses and he picked up the tempo of his thrusts until he was rutting against her backside like a wild animal.

The only sound she made was a long, drawn out sigh, "Yesss," as he pumped his cum into her. Once he'd caught his breath, he sat in his desk chair and watched her refasten her stockings.

"How many times did you cum?" he asked in a conversational tone.

"Twice," she admitted. She fidgeted with her dress before looking up. "I've never done this before," she added.

"If you haven't, you've always wanted to." RJ straightened his desk as if he were ending a routine meeting. "Now it's time for lunch. Shall we have another counseling session tomorrow?"

"Yes, Mr. Lostridge," she said as she closed the door behind her.

RJ's smile split his face and he congratulated himself on conquering the tightest piece of ass he'd probably ever had. The trouble was - even sitting behind the desk she'd just sprawled across, her scent still lingering in the air - he compared her to Harriet.

Chapter 6

After school, Bud and Thorny raced to Bedlow Street. Crouched behind the tree house wall, they were ready to see how far Kelly would undress. Thorny had brought his own binoculars, so Bud wasn't worried about missing anything.

"Well, I did it," Bud said without taking his eyes off Kelly's bedroom window.

"Did what?"

"Asked her to the dance," Bud said as nonchalantly as he could.

"No shit?"

"No shit. Gonna borrow my Dad's old tuxedo, take her to dinner, and everything."

Whatever comment Thorny started to make was stifled when the boys saw Kelly enter her room. Bud felt his stomach do flip flops as she went through the same slow strip tease that he'd enjoyed for the past two weeks. 

Just like the day before, Kelly calmly removed her clothing. She hung up her dress. Put her shoes in the closet ("White knickers," said Thorny) and modeled her lithe form in her bedroom mirror. When she stood in front of the mirror in her slip, Bud felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He wiped his hands on his pants, careful not to lose his grip on the field glasses. This was as far as she'd gone the day before but she didn't seem to be heading for the curtains yet.

Bud heard Thorny sigh as Kelly pulled off her panties, bent over, and gave them another good look at her firm ass. She tossed her panties onto her bed and stepped out of sight.

Thorny squeezed his binoculars until his knuckles were white. "C'mon, c'mon," he pleaded under his breath. 

His pleas turned to a disappointed groan when Kelly stepped back in to her mirror. Instead of her slip, she wore a pink bathrobe. She walked around her room as if looking for something, but then she stopped in front of her mirror and untied her robe. Bud thought that his cock would burst the buttons on his fly as Kelly slowly slid out of the robe. When the robe was halfway down her back, she turned as if to look at the smooth curve of her back. 

Bud had only two words when he saw her pink tipped globes proudly standing on her chest, "Holy Shit."

Kelly continued to lower the robe, exposing the top of her rear end in the mirror while simultaneously showing the boys the triangle of honey brown curls that graced the top of her womanhood. Finally, she dropped the robe to the floor and stood fully naked in front of the mirror. Her hands cupped her breasts, seeming to weigh them, before she sent one hand to toy with the thatch that covered her mons. The boys held their breath, afraid that their slightest movement would break the spell. Stepping closer to the window, Kelly tugged the curtain sash, ending the show for the day.

Bud's hands trembled as he descended the tree house ladder. Making sure that Thorny had closed the gate to the alley, Bud went into the house through the laundry room. Millie was there folding clothes.

"So de show's over for today?" she teased. 

Bud blushed. He had forgotten that he had told her about Kelly's window.

"Yeah, but now that I've asked her to the dance I feel like I'm going to be sick or something."

He put the binoculars case on the stairs and went to help her fold the laundry. Millie held her arms wide, searching for the corners of the sheets. Bud slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her against him, grinding his stiff pole into her soft rear end.

"I wish she could be as easy to talk to as you are." Bud kissed her neck. Millie smelled of furniture polish and linseed oil. 

She swatted his hands away from her breasts. "Git on now. I got work to do," she said, "And don't think you're gittin' any of my brown shuga today after you come in here all hard and hot talking after some other woman."

"Ah come on, Millie."

Millie turned around in his arms, a cynical look on her face. "So now you got a date with your dream girl. What do you want a little colored gal like Millie fo'?"

"It's just that … that I want everything to be right. I don't want to screw things up now that I've got a chance to impress her."

Millie's cocked eyebrow was her only answer but she still didn't try to leave his embrace.

"Millie. What do women want?"

Millie laughed and playfully punched Bud's chest. "I could spend the rest of my life telling you the answer to that one," she said, "but I've got to fold the laundry, peel the vegetables, and get the chicken in the oven before your momma gets back."

"Please? I'll fold the rest of the laundry for you."

Millie laughed again. Looking thoughtful, she answered his question. "Women want different things. Sometimes it's good to go fast and hard. Other times they want to go slow and gentle. Depends on their mood."

"But how will I know?"

She took one of his hands from her hip and placed it against her pillowy breast. "You just start slow and she'll let you know how fast to go."

Taking her invitation, Bud's hand moved from her breast to the buttons on her dress. "What's the one thing I can do for her? Something special. Something she'll like."

Millie shrugged her shoulders, dropping her dress to the floor. Bud's hands caressed her back's smooth skin. She tilted her chin up and he gave her a toe-curling kiss. When she finally broke the kiss, she looked at him with a quirky grin.

"Well there is one thing that most ladies like." She pulled him down between her legs and lay back on the laundry pile. "I know I do."

Reclining on the never ending pile of sheets and napkins, she talked him through the hidden secrets of licking a woman's pussy. Thorny had told him that it would smell like fish, but it didn't. It was a curious, oily honey – not quite sweet or sour but certainly not offensive. His tongue explored the folds and ridges of her sex, making sure to tickle the rim of her pussy's hole. He lapped up her juice and spread it around the crevices and nooks of her sex. 

"Ohh, das it," Millie moaned. "You keeeep it up; stay nice and slow." 

His mouth moved to the top of her slit and nibbled on her erect clitoris. She flinched and pushed him back to the slick gate of her sex. 

"Don't go sucking too hard on my little button, now. Too sensitive. You suck too hard and it'll hurt. Spoil everything," she moaned.

He licked her until his jaw ached and then finished with a good hard, fast fuck. Just like the day before, the hall clock's chimes kept them from enjoying any cuddling afterwards.

"You said you'd fold the laundry," she said as she struggled with her buttons and ran up the stairs to the kitchen.

"I won't forget," he said, tucking his shirt tail back into his pants. "You can bet I won't forget."

-=)0(=-

Bud had just entered the basement when Lance parked his car in front of the Lostridge's house. Rebecca leapt out of the car before Lance had even set the brake and stood on the curb, the door closed in front of her like a shield.

"Thanks for the ride, Lance," Rebecca said quickly before turning to go into the house.

"Rebecca, wait." Lance jumped out of his car and followed her up the drive. "I need to talk with you."

She stopped in front of the gate to the back yard. "What about?"

"You've been acting funny all day. I just want to make sure that nothing's happened to keep us from going to the dance tomorrow night."

Rebecca stopped; her hand on the latch. She considered her choices. If she refused him now, she'd be the object of rumors and gossip throughout graduation week. And she wouldn't have a date to the dance, the social event of her high school years.

"No. I mean yes. I'm still going to the dance with you. Unless you've changed your mind, I mean."

He reached her and took her by the hand. "I just needed to make sure," he said with his best charming smile. "Care to take a turn around the garden, my Princess?"

"Why of course," she said. 

Her smile matched his but her stomach did somersaults as she led him through the gate. They walked arm in arm around the back yard, pausing to admire the flowers and chat about meaningless things that had happened at school. Rebecca started to relax and believe that Lance really did care for her as a person, not just a piece of meat to be possessed. They reached the back fence and turned. Lance pointed at the shed next to the tree.

"Was that your tree house," he flashed his dazzling smile once again, "or did you play dolls in the little shack?"

"Dad uses the garden shed as a place to relax." She was a bit peeved that he would mock her so quickly after they'd just made up. "The tree house was my brother's."

Lance ignored her tone and steered her toward the garden shed. Rebecca, unsure of where the conversation was leading, continued. "Daddy likes to come out here, listen to the radio, and read his magazines in peace."

Lance pointed at the empty quart jars that were neatly placed in a box behind the radio. "He must really relax out here," he sneered.

Before she could answer, he turned and swept her into his arms. He grabbed her rear end and squeezed it as if he was testing a pillow. She tried to protest but he covered her mouth with his, smothering her cries with a harsh embrace.

She wrenched her mouth away. "Stop. You're hurting me."

"Princess, you can't make me believe that," his muscular arms held her still, "women like a firm hand." He pushed her hand against prick, rotating his hips lewdly. "Baby, I can hardly wait to hear you beg for me to fuck you." She tried to pull her hand away but he easily overpowered her. "You're going to beg me to let you have my cock."

"I'm not that kind of girl," she screamed as she wrenched herself away and ran for the back gate.

His mocking voice followed her, "Yes, you are. You just haven't admitted it yet."

Rebecca ran through the alley, her vision blurred by tears. Behind her, Lance leaned against the old door frame, a cocky sneer spoiling his Valentino looks. Turning to walk to his car, he glanced up and saw Harriet in an upstairs window. The way the light hit her she looked remarkably like Rebecca.

-=)0(=-

Rebecca's instincts led her to McPherson's Store, to her friends that would be at the lunch counter. She stumbled through the store, ignoring the stares of the shoppers. Alone, she collapsed on to a stool. The booths were empty. All of her friends had already left. Stevie came out from behind the counter and offered her a napkin to dry her tears. 

"Are you OK?"

She sobbed and shook her head. Her world was collapsing.

Stevie took her arm. "Look, why don't you come into the back and compose yourself?"

He led her up the narrow stairs to the loft of the old storeroom that adjoined the store. 

"Looks like an old warehouse," she said, breaking her silence.

"It was. Mr. McPherson lets me use it."

Rebecca looked at the pictures that hung on the wall. They covered every conceivable aspect of life in their sleepy little fishing town - still-life images of people walking in the park, the morning mist rising from the streets, and the sun setting over the fishing boats. Looking at the crisp black and white images, she forgot herself for a short moment. 

Turning back toward Stevie, she pointed at a picture of a house, a white clapboard house much like hers. "Are these yours?"

"Yeah," he said, kneading his cap in his hands like a dish rag. "Look, I've got to finish closing. I'm flattered that you like my work."

He led her back down the stairs to the store, cautiously telling her about his ambition of becoming a fashion photographer. Seeing that she was feeling better, Stevie walked her to the door. 

"I hope you're feeling better," he dared to meet her green eyes and saw that she was smiling at him. She started to walk back towards Bedlow Street. "You can come up to the studio anytime you want," he called from the door.

Chapter 7

The next day's routine was completely ruined. It was the day of the Graduation Week Dance and the house hummed with tension. Both children were bundles of raw nerves, erupting like little volcanoes whenever they came too close to each other. Harriet ran herself ragged pinning and brushing them so that they looked their best. RJ came home in time to see them before they left to meet their dates for dinner.

Harriet stood on the porch and watched Rebecca drive off with Lance. "Doesn't this remind you of our first big date?" she asked RJ.

She took RJ's hand in hers and they walked back into the house. Closing the door behind them, she pressed herself against his body. Circling his neck with her arms, her breasts cushioned the crush of their bodies as she kissed her husband.

"I remember that night," she teased.

"Harriet, have you been drinking?"

"I surrendered my virtue to you in that dirty old bandstand down at the park." She backed him up against his easy chair, her fingers undoing his shirt buttons as he fell into the seat. "It was so good. So right. You were so deep inside me. I remember holding you and crying."

"Harriet, the light's still on. People in the street - "

"Are going to see me fuck you." She had his trousers open and held his cock in her hand. "It's standing up so nice," she said as she stroked his shaft, "I don't know whether to suck it or just stick it in my pussy."

"Harriet - I mean, you never used to talk like this."

RJ hated to admit it but he was more turned on than he had been in years. His wife, the mother of his children and the woman who had shared his bed for 19 years, was talking like a street whore. He wanted to take her and fuck the living daylights out of her, to drive his cock into her wet cunt and claim her as his woman. But another part still clung to the idea that she was perfect, above having any base needs like sex. His inner debate paralyzed him while Harriet guided his tool into her sopping wet pussy.

She pulled his face into the valley between her melon sized breasts. His tongue painted circles around her silver dollar sized areola.

"You used to love to lick and suck my titties," she said. She ground her hips against his, "Yess, it feels so good."

She grated around his stiff pole, rubbing her clit against his pubic bone. RJ, in a moment of clear thought, reached for the light and plunged them into darkness. Only the cries of her pleasure remained, hanging in the air as she rode her husband until they both collapsed.

-=)0(=-

So nervous he thought he'd be sick on the way around the block to her house, Bud arrived to collect Kelly for the dance. Both teens were embarrassed when Mrs. Parker fussed and took pictures of them. They joined a host of other kids at Papa Ficorilli's restaurant, laughing and enjoying being together. After dinner, Bud took Kelly's hand as they walked to the high school. 

The dance was great and everyone danced up a storm. The band finished their first set with a slow number when Kelly lifted her face to his. Bud's lips met hers and he felt as though he was being electrified. Avoiding the dance's chaperones, Kelly led him from the dance floor to the teacher's lounge. Bud looked around the room. It was lit only by the glow of the street lights below and smelled of cheap tobacco and bleach. They embraced and sank to the couch, lips locked in a feverish kiss. 

Placing her small hand on his chest, Kelly gently pushed him back. For a second, Bud thought that he'd done something wrong, had gone too fast and spoiled the moment. She climbed off the couch and stood in front of him, but the smile on her face let Bud know that they weren't through. 

"Do you like my dress?" she said as she pirouetted. "My mother made it especially for this dance."

Kelly undid the clasp behind her neck and lowered the dress, finally stepping out of its folds and hanging it carefully over the back of a chair. She bent over and slipped out of her shoes, making sure that her bottom was right were Bud could see and touch it.

"Do you like the way I undress?"

Realizing what this was leading to, Bud struggled out of his tuxedo jacket and kicked his shoes under the table. "How did you know?"

"I missed dance class with a sore foot one day. I happened to look out my window and I saw you climbing into that old tree house of yours. A few days later, I saw a flash from the tree house, like light reflecting from a mirror. I figured that you were watching me, so I gave you something to watch."

She put her slip and bra on top of her dress and helped him remove his cummerbund. Her hands lingered over his fly and she murmured over the outline of his stiff pole. 

"I just wondered how far I'd have to go before you'd finally ask me out," she said and nipped his earlobe with her sharp, white teeth.

Realizing that she'd led him on from the start, Bud decided that it was time to show her that he had a few surprises as well. He arranged Kelly on the couch and, following Millie's advice, started by kissing and licking her neck and breasts, working his way down her body before taking her panties off. 

"What are you - Ahhhh."

Bud explored Kelly's small, delicate pussy with his mouth. His tongue plowed broad furrows through the length of her slit, pausing at the end of each pass to tease her clitoris or dip into her honeyed well. His chin was covered with her juices by the time she pulled him away from her sex. Holding him by his hair, she kissed him hungrily, tasting herself on his lips.

"Now," she begged, "I've got to have you now." 

Bud scrambled out of his trousers, taking his underpants off in a single motion. Kelly held her breath and touched his cock. It twitched and pulsed in her soft, warm hand.

"Are they all like this?"

Bud shrugged and helped her lie back on the couch. Kelly's expression was caught somewhere between eagerness and anxiety. He stroked her breasts, murmuring compliments as he carefully used his cock to spread her slick oils. She watched in rapt anticipation as he inserted the head of his cock into her. 

He paused and let her body grow accustomed to his invading member. He pressed forward again, stopping when Kelly groaned. Her eyes closed and her fingers dug into his arms like claws. Her nails bit into his skin as he pressed deeper and gently spread her virgin sex. When he reached the spongy wall that blocked his way to her womb, he stopped.

"Are you sure," he whispered in her ear. "It might hurt, I'm told."

"Yes. I want you to be my first"

Before she could change her mind, Bud's hips lunged forward. Kelly smothered her cries by biting his neck, her nails raking the length of his arms. It felt like she was drawing blood, but he kept up his slow and steady assault on her newly breached love tunnel. Gently working his cock in and out of her vise-like pussy, he stopped when his balls met the smooth slopes of her ass. He hung over her, supported by his quivering arms, and savored the sensation of being completely inside her.

Her breath quivering, she managed to gasp, "Fuck me. Keep fucking me," before her voice trailed off into murmurs. "So good. Sooo goood."

Bud smoothly withdrew his eight inch prong until only the tip remained inside, paused for a moment, and then pushed forward again. His long, steady strokes mesmerized Kelly and she lay splayed on the couch, open to anything he did to her body. They made love for what seemed like hours, his easy rhythm plunging his cock in and out of her body over and over again.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open and her mouth gaped in a silent scream. Her body shuddered. He froze in mid stroke and felt her muscles contract, a spasm along the entire length of his shaft. Kelly held his face in her hands, a sheen of perspiration glistening on her forehead. 

"I want to feel you cum inside me," she said. 

She locked her legs around his waist. He lowered his hips and, her heels digging into his back, thrust hard and fast. Spurred on, he rushed toward his climax. His balls tightened and a prickling feeling welled up from the root of his manhood. He slammed his cock deep inside Kelly like a trip hammer, collapsing against her just as his cock erupted. He felt as if his body was turning itself inside out, his insides pouring into Kelly in a rush.

Bud supported himself above her, careful to keep from crushing her petite body with his weight. She stroked his face and looked into his eyes with a dreamy expression.

"What a minute." Bud raised his head and listened. "The music's stopped. The dance must be over." He raised himself off the couch and searched for some tissues. "We've got to get out of her before Rufus comes to empty out the trash cans."

The thought of the school's ancient janitor catching them naked in the teacher's lounge set them both laughing. Even as they dressed and sneaked down the fire escape, fits of giggles threatened to give them away.

-=)0(=-

Lance and Rebecca had danced and socialized until the first band break. The gym was stifling and they'd talked to everyone they wanted to talk to, so they stepped outside for a break. Lance slyly walked Rebecca, avoiding other people, until they'd arrived at the entrance to the locker room. Making sure that no one was there to see them, Lance pulled Rebecca into the men's locker room.

Rebecca wrinkled her nose at the smell of stale sweat and liniment. She knew that Lance had brought her to a place where they could be alone, alone to force her to give him what she'd jealously guarded for months. She tensed, ready to follow through with her plan.

"C'mon, Babe," he said squeezing her waist, "We've got some privacy now. I've waited for this moment for a long time."

His hands plucked at the hooks at the back of her dress but she squirmed and pushed him away. She sank to her knees in front of him, looking up from his crotch with a sultry pout.

"I was going to give you a special present," she said, "Something I've been waiting to give you for weeks."

Rebecca pulled Lance's prick from his pants and gave it a few quick strokes. He wasn't anywhere near as large as Tyrone, his cock only slightly longer than both her fists put together and easily grasped in her hands. Rebecca took a deep breath and steeled herself for what lay ahead.

She tried to remember how Millie had excited Tyrone with her mouth. She took the head of his prick into her mouth and sucked hard on the purplish tip. Seeing how he liked what she was doing, she used her teeth to nip and tease her way around the edges of the corona, nurmuring compliments about his size and beauty.

Lance held the back of her head and jammed his cock into her throat. Mindless of the gagging sounds she made, Lance fucked her mouth callously. Tears streamed from her eyes but she knew that this was the price of being the Queen of Kingsport High. Lance's voice came to her through a fog of pain and humiliation.

"That's it, Babe. You get it real wet and then I'm going to fuck you real good."

He pulled at her dress, trying to strip her while she was still on her knees. She tried to push his hand away but he tussled with her and tore the strap of her dress. For the first time, she was really scared and she pushed him away. Lance, hobbled by his trousers, tripped over the locker room bench. He could only shout angry words at her while she ran from the room and down the hall.

Rebecca ran from the school; using the back alleys to avoid meeting people that might ask questions or spread rumors, avoid meeting Lance when he came to look for her. Passing behind McPherson's Store, she heard a clanging noise that startled her. She slipped on her heels and landed heavily on the dirty alley.

"Rebecca, are you all right?"

Rebecca looked up to see Stevie the soda jerk tossing a bag of garbage into a row of trash cans. She couldn't stand to let him see her this way but she needed his help. He picked her off the ground and helped her brush off her dress.

"Why don't you come inside and wash up?"

Rebecca dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and noticed the makeup that ran with her tears. She nodded and followed Stevie up the stairs. Once in the old loft, she washed her face and fixed her makeup before finding the courage to look him in the eyes.

"I need to thank you," she stammered. "You didn't need to do this."

"Yes, I did." He looked uneasy, shuffling his feet from side to side. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure. Anything you've got," she said as she wandered around the large open area admiring the photographs. 

While Stevie ran down to the store, Rebecca peered inside the closet Stevie had set up as his dark room. Inside she found strips of film hanging up to dry and rows of postcards cut and stacked on a small table. Picking up one of the cards, her eyes widened at the sight of a naked, skinny girl spreading her legs and fingering herself. The small stack of cards all featured the same girl as she undressed and masturbated, first with her hands and then with some kitchen implements. She walked out of the room with the cards in her hands, looking up to see Stevie gaping at her in horror. 

She held the cards up and asked, "Are these yours?"

He nodded yes. "Mister McPherson pays me extra for them. I need the money for Art School."

She nodded in understanding. "And the girl?"

"She's a waitress in town."

"Would I make a good model?"

Stevie looked at her critically. "You're definitely good looking enough but -"

"But?" Rebecca's wounded vanity took control of her and she drew her shoulders back, accentuating her ripe bust. She held out a picture of the skinny model cupping her breasts as if offering them to the camera.

Stevie sensed he'd made a mistake and hurried to explain. "I'd just want to see how you react with the camera. I mean it's - different in front of a camera."

Rebecca tucked her torn strap into the bodice of her dress. A quick pull on a bow released the other strap and exposed her chest. Her silk bustier struggled to support her large creamy breasts, breasts that jiggled invitingly as Rebecca sashayed across the floor towards the stunned young man.

"I think I've got a lot more to work with than this girl."

Brazenly undressing in front of Stevie, someone who was almost a stranger, sent Rebecca's pulse racing. Mimicking the picture, she cupped her breasts and offered them to him, a hungry, seductive look on her face. Still holding on to one breast, she cupped his bulging groin with the other.

"Maybe I should audition for you?" she knelt, pushing her shoulders forward to emphasize the deep valley between her tits. "After all, I do need to find a special way to say thank you."

Her nervousness disappeared the moment Rebecca took Stevie's long prick into her hand. This wasn't something she had to do. It was something she wanted to do and wanted to do very badly. Her mouth made a dark lipstick ring around his rod as she sucked and licked his manhood. When she felt his balls tighten, she pulled her mouth back and sucked hard on his knob, rapidly stroking his shaft.

"Shhi-yit," Stevie cried out. 

His seed shot into her mouth in thick jets. Rebecca tried to swallow it all but some escaped, leaving a pearly rope of his jism dripping from her cheek to the slopes of her perfect breasts. Carefully, she licked his cock clean before standing to reassemble her dress.

"Rebecca."

"Yes," she said, delicately wiping the remnants of his cum from her collar bone.

"Would you mind modeling for me?" 

"Stevie, I'd love that." Rebecca kissed him good night. It wasn't a chaste or even teasing peck on the cheek but a full-on, soul-searing, tonsil licking kiss. "But I've got to go home and if I don't leave now, I might have a hard time maintaining my reputation as a good girl," she said with a smirk.

"We could try some shots tomorrow if you've got some time."

She looked coyly over her shoulder from the top of the stairs. "I'll meet you up here around ten. Bye."

-=0=-

Back on Bedlow Street, Lance Sterling cut his engine and glided his jalopy to a stop against the curb. The light was on in the Lostridge's front parlor and Lance leaned over the steering wheel to see if Rebecca might be there. A cunning smile spoiled his film star looks as he saw Mrs. Lostridge, her bountiful breasts in plain sight, climb on top of her husband. She pulled his face into her full bosom, arching her back in pleasure. Lance watched Mrs. Lostridge rock back and forth, her titties bouncing back and forth, until someone turned out the light.

Falling back into his seat, Lance tossed his cigarette butt into the gutter and drove home. "Shit," he muttered, "everybody's getting laid but me."

Chapter 8

School was over and now Bud concentrated all of his free time on Kelly. They'd spent the day together and now they walked toward Bedlow Street hand in hand, chatting about friends and what they wanted to do with their lives. Reaching Kelly's house, they stood at the little white picket fence gate that marked her front walk. Bud deliberated for a few moments before quickly leaning forward and kissing her cheek.

"Bud! I mean, my parents might see," Kelly's eyes twinkled.

He smiled and turned toward the alleyway that separated her house from his. "I'll see ya' tomorrow. I gotta get home for dinner."

Kelly ran up to her room and waited until she could see him walk through the narrow alley. She waved and blew him a kiss through the window. He laughed, remembering the strip shows she'd done for him after school and went into his yard. Kelly sat down at her desk. She pulled out her diary, a serious look replacing the smile she'd had on her face. 

Her eyes watered as she counted the days on the calendar over and over, always coming up with the same number. "Nooo," she moaned, "please don't let it be true."

Kelly knew that she had to find Rebecca. Her best friend would know what to do. Blinking back her tears, she ran to McPherson's Store. It was nearly dinner time and the soda counter was almost empty, but Rebecca was there, sitting and chatting to Stevie. With only the barest courtesy, Kelly dragged Rebecca into the bathroom.

"What's eating you?" Rebecca was puzzled by Kelly's nervous, frazzled manner.

"I'm late," Kelly whispered, as if talking to herself.

"Beg your pardon?" Rebecca's said in a low voice. Suddenly she realized what Kelly had meant. The shell-shocked look on Kelly's face, the preoccupied fidgeting, it all made sense. "Did you say that you're late? But…"

"Bud's the father. He's the only one that I've…that…well, you know."

"Christ, I asked him to take you to the dance." Rebecca paced the small restroom. "I'll kill him."

"No Becca, it wasn't his fault. I wanted to…Ah, Jesus, what kind of mess have I gotten myself into?"

Rebecca leaned against a sink and lit a cigarette, her hands shaking. "So what are your options?" She blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. "You could marry Bud, but you'd be a widow the second my father found out."

"I know that I'm not going to any sleazy quack. I heard Melissa Jones had an abortion, that's the reason she spent six months in the hospital. The guy cut up her insides so bad she almost died." Kelly took the cigarette from Rebecca's hand. "And now she can't have children. Ever."

"So what's your plan?"

"If I can get enough money, I'll leave town. I've got some distant cousins who live out in Arizona. I can get a job and have the baby. I dunno, maybe I could come back in a few years, once my class graduates and everyone forgets about me." She passed the cigarette back, having never put it to her mouth.

Rebecca set the cigarette down and hugged Kelly tightly. "I'll see how much money I've got in savings. It's not much but it'll help."

Kelly sobbed and rested her head against Rebecca's shoulder. 

"Have you told Bud?" Rebecca asked quietly.

"No. I'm too embarrassed. Hopefully I can get a job and pull the money together before I… my condition gets obvious. I'll leave town and no one, not even Bud, has to know."

Rebecca looked her friend directly in the eye. "He played a part in this as well." Rebecca saw that Kelly was on the verge of another crying jag, so she let the topic drop. "Let's just work on getting you that job. We've got three months before school starts again. I think we can get a good nest egg together by September."

Kelly used her handkerchief to wipe away the tears and let Rebecca lead her from the rest room. To her surprise, Rebecca steered toward the soda counter and waved at Stevie to come over to them.

"Stevie, is Mr. McPherson hiring any more summer help?"

"Yeah, I think so. Why? I thought you had a job at the library."

"I do, it's Kelly that needs a job. She needs to save up some money before school starts."

Stevie looked at Kelly critically. Rebecca recognized his expression as the same one he'd given her that night in the studio, the night she'd offered to model for him. Stevie caught her looking at him and raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Rebecca pretended to look at the menu while the last customers walked into the main part of the store. She looked over Stevie's shoulder and made sure that the cook had gone back to the storeroom. 

Stevie wrung his bar towel in his hands. "I could use some help in the studio." He watched the girls to gauge their reaction. "Another model, perhaps. Give me a little variety. Mr. McPherson would like that. And the money's good, you could make a couple of hundred by Labor Day, no problem."

Kelly's eyes lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. "A couple of hundred. Shit, I'd do anything for that kind of money. Oh Stevie, you're a lifesaver."

Rebecca looked at Stevie. She wasn't sure whether to brain him with a Coke bottle for suggesting that her best friend model for his dirty pictures or kiss him for risking a jail sentence to help Kelly out. She looked at Kelly, who was spinning around on her barstool like a little kid.

"Maybe we need to go up to the studio and make sure that we are clear about what we're talking about here," Rebecca said. 

-=)0(=-

While Kelly poured out her heart to Rebecca, Bud was walking into his house without a care in the world. His mother was weeding in the garden, so he went to the kitchen and poked around in the ice box for a Coke. 

"Well look who's strutting in here. Mistah Rooster, what'll you be having?"

Bud laughed at Millie's joke. He hadn't seen her when he walked in because she had been shelling beans at the kitchen table. She stood and went to the stove to stir something on the stove.

Bud took another drink and compared Millie's lush, round backside to Kelly's slender, firm rump. Millie turned around and caught him staring at her ass. She wiggled her butt and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Now that you've had a little pussy, you looking at all women like dat?" She wiped her hands on her apron, a motion that made her breasts ripple and roll under her cotton house dress. "My little white boy's done grown into a real hound dog, ain't he?"

She cupped her breasts and teased her nipple with her thumbs, laughing at him with her eyes. "Why you still chasing that skinny little white girl since you've had a real woman?"

Bud put the Coke bottle down on the table and took her in his arms. "Why can't I have both?" He leered at her. "A man needs some variety." 

He played with the big white buttons on her dress. "Why don't we go downstairs and fold some laundry?"

"Go on," she said, playfully slapping at his hands without really trying to drive him away. "You been mooning after your little white gal so much I don't think you've got the strength for the likes of me."

Bud undid all four buttons and wrapped his hands around her bare waist. He pushed his hands under her panties and cupped the twin globes of her soft, fleshy ass. At the same time, he kissed her neck, feeling her pulse throb under his lips. 

He pulled his right hand away from her bottom to unsnap her bra and free her big, heavy breasts for his mouth. His lips descended on her erect brown nipples and Millie arched her back in appreciation. Bud pushed her panties down her thighs as he sank to her knees. 

Bud's face was level with Millie's furry snatch, and, giving her panties one last push toward the floor, he gave her pussy a big, wet kiss. Bud spread her pussy lips with his thumbs licked her silky slit with the broad edge of his tongue.

"Millie, I think I love you," Bud said, his voice muffled by her thighs.

"There's more to love than fuckin' and don't you forget it," Millie sounded serious for a change.

"Mmm," he said, pulling his mouth away from her soft inner labia. "There's pussy eating, too."

Millie grabbed him by his ears and forced him to look up at her. "If you really want this gal, you'd best think twice before you go mouthing off like that." She pushed him back on his heels and pulled her panties back into place. "Now git on up to your room, I gotta finish dinner. If all's you want is pussy, there's a gal down to the diner that'll give you that fo' two dollars."

Bud, stunned by her sudden rejection, wiped his chin with his hand, almost forgetting to take his soda up to his room as he left. 

-=)0(=-

Up in Stevie's studio, Kelly sat speechless. She flipped through several of the "blue books" that Stevie had made, her eyes gaped and her skin flushed a bright red as she saw Goldie doing things that Kelly had never thought about.

Kelly held out a picture of Goldie inserting a cucumber into her pussy. "Would I have to do these kinds of things?" 

"Not it you don't want to," Stevie said as he checked his camera. He tossed her a black velvet mask. " Just put this on and we'll give it a shot. I'll stand over here in the shadows. Just do what you feel like doing."

Kelly nodded numbly and walked over to the bedroom set that Goldie had used. Turning toward the floor length mirror, she took a deep breath and found that her thoughts drifted back to the after-school strip teases she'd done for Bud.

She piled her hair on top of her head and slowly turned around, admiring herself in the mirror. Kelly imagined she was in her room, teasing Bud as he watched from his tree house. She was so absorbed in her fantasy, Kelly didn't hear the soft clicks of Stevie's camera. She stripped slowly and unselfconsciously. Finally, she crawled on to the bed. Kelly pointed her ass at the camera. She looked over her shoulder, a sultry pout on face, and spread her knees. She arched her back and opened her pussy lips with her fingers. As soon as her hand brushed against her erect clit, she shuddered and collapsed onto the bed.

Amazed at how far Kelly had gone in her first photo session, Stevie looked over at Rebecca. The tall redhead sprawled on a chair, her skirt bunched up around her waist. Her fingers danced through her ginger furred slit, their tempo increasing. Choking back a cry, her body stiffened and her legs clamped together.

-=)0(=-

RJ stood against a stack of crates in Dennehy's store room. Goldie had given him his blowjob and now he waited while Scooter grunted and thrust against Goldie's skinny flanks. Scooter's hips jerked back and forth, rapidly slapping against the girl's pale ass as he neared climax. When he finally came, Scooter's hairy butt clenched and his body went rigid. 

Scooter pulled up his trousers and rebuttoned his suspenders. He smiled and pulled a cigar from his vest pocket, lighting it while Goldie wiped up and left. "You still tapping that young thing you was telling me about?"

"At least once a day." RJ looked extremely proud of himself. "She's the perfect little plaything. Sucks, fucks, anything I tell her to do."

"Don't the hotel bills start to add up?"

"Naw. We do this shit in my office." RJ lit his own cigar and followed Scooter out into the diner. "Hell, yesterday she was under my desk sucking on my knob and one of the other managers walked in. I held her still, my cock still in her mouth, while this Good Samaritan let me know that rumors about me and Miss Flint were starting to circulate." They walked out on to the street and stopped. "We're going to start using her apartment at lunch, I think. The boss likes discretion and it wouldn't do to have the office gossiping about me plugging some redheaded snatch during coffee breaks, now, would it?"

Scooter chuckled and turned to walk back to his store. "Well, now that you're branching out, don't you forget your ol' buddy Scooter." He laughed as he flipped RJ a wave over his shoulder.

-=)0(=-

Harriet enjoyed working in the garden; the simple manual labor helped her forget about her troubles. Troubles like her husband. She'd tried to rekindle their passion that night in the living room. That had only lasted the weekend and then RJ slid right back into the same old rut. Once a week, lights off – on your mark, get set, go. 

She slammed the hoe into the ground a little too hard and it stuck. Harriet tugged at it for a second before standing up and stretching. She was just about to go back to her work when she heard the back gate opening. 

"Excuse me, Mrs. Lostridge." Harriet turned to see Lance Sterling, Rebecca's boyfriend, come in from the alley way. "I was looking for Rebecca."

"I'm afraid she's already gone to the library, Lance." 

Harriet's insides trembled. She ducked her head and tugged at the hoe, more to hide her face from his than anything else. She was overwrought, she told herself but she felt a bit strange from the way Lance was looking at her, almost as if he were undressing her with his eyes.

That was exactly what Lance was doing. He'd opened the gate in time to see Mrs. Lostridge bent over, her dress taut across her delicious rear end. She bent over and tugged at the hoe that was stuck in the ground, a movement that caused the neckline of her dress to gape open and reveal the cleft between her full, white mounds.

Lance stepped across a row of plants. He stopped right behind her, his hip touching hers, and leaned across her back to help her free the stubborn hoe. He felt her shiver as their bodies touched and he covered her hands in his as he easily pulled the hoe from the soil.

Harriet stepped away from him quickly and tried to quell the roiling feeling between her legs. "Thank you, Lance," she said, "I've been moving these plants out of their pots. I guess it's time to clean up."

She'd meant it as a hint for him to go, but he bent over and helped her gather a stack of the small clay pots. Her green eyes met his blue ones. Harriet's insides started to boil. She remembered her stolen hour with the plumber but tried to tell herself that this was different. She was contemplating having sex with her daughter's boyfriend, an indiscretion that wouldn't go away without repercussions.

"Where did you want these to go?" Lance was holding stacks of pots in both hands.

Harriet noticed that he was still looking at her body like a hungry dog at a piece of meat. Her resolve weakened; her needs crashing through the careful, proper barriers that she'd clung to her entire life. She suddenly wanted to know what he looked like without his clothes on, his cock hard from wanting her. It was exciting to know that she was still desirable; this young man wanted her and she could have him. 

She led him to the shed and set the pots in her hands on the floor. "I'll put these up on that top shelf later," she turned around to take the pots from his hands but, in the close confines of the garden shed, it was unavoidable that their bodies brushed against each other. 

Lance lifted his arms and easily placed the small pots on the shelf that she'd pointed to. He lowered his arms and encircled her waist, pulling him against him and kissing her. Lance smiled to himself as he felt her respond, her tongue dancing with his in her mouth.

Whatever tenuous hold Harriet had on her self-control evaporated. Her breasts crushed against his hard, muscular chest and she felt herself mold against his lean, young body. His cock twitched and started to swell, it's sausage-like firmness pressing against her belly.

She stood in his arms, her mind lost in a rising tide of lust. His hands plucked at her skirt and roughly tugged at her buttons. She helped him unfasten her dress and pulled her bra strap down, freeing her breast for his greedy mouth. Just as with the plumber, she was swept away by her aching desires. Spreading her legs to allow his hands access, she let him grope between her legs.

Harriet backed up, pulling Lance along with her. Hiking her skirt up around her waist, she shucked her panties and perched on the edge of the workbench. She dragged her hand through the tangle of auburn curls, surprised at how wet she was already. Lance closed in on her in a rush but Harriet stopped him with a gentle hand against his chest.

"Take your cock out. I want to see it," her voice was a husky whisper, "I'm not going to run away."

Lance pulled his member out of his pants, unsheathing it proudly. It bobbed in time with his pulse, curving upwards to point at the furry triangle between her legs. Harriet reached down and petted it lightly. 

"Nice. Very nice," she said as she guided it inside her.

Holding on to his broad shoulders, Harriet coached and complimented the teenager. She slowly rocked back and forth on the work bench, taking more and more of his cock inside her with each pass. When she felt the curly hair on his balls tickle her ass, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his muscular ass, and held him still. She craned her neck and their lips met.

"Now fuck me," she said.

When it was over, Lance had had to help Harriet off the workbench. Her body was stiff; her pussy sore from the pummeling the all-star athlete had given her. He'd fucked like a young bull: plenty of power and stamina but lacking any of the gentility or consideration she'd hoped for. Harriet stood in the shed's doorway and watched Lance slip out of the back gate. A delayed sense of regret teased at the edges of her mind but she refused to let herself cry.

-=)0(=-

The usual three o'clock group gathered at the soda counter. Lance held court in one booth while the cheerleaders, minus Rebecca who was still at work, sat in another, giggling and gossiping. 

Lance's pitched his voice in a low, conspiratorial tone. "I tell you boys, she's been scarce because she's a little shy. They're all a little tender after losing their cherries." The other boys, all of whom had far less experience with sex than their leader, elbowed each other and tried to look like they'd all been through the same thing before. Lance regaled the boys with his version of what had happened between him and Rebecca, embellishing his locker room fiction with graphic details borrowed from his rendezvous with Rebecca's mother only a few hours before.

Stevie's hands shook with suppressed fury as he sorted the silverware. He stood where he could hear Lance but where the boys couldn't see his face. Stevie endured Lance's bragging, afraid to challenge the bigger, stronger boy because it would mean telling the town that Rebecca had actually been in his studio instead of with her boyfriend. When he took his break, he went up the narrow back stairs to the studio. As he'd hoped, Rebecca was there. She wandered around the props and makeshift sets, deep in thought.

"Stevie, are you sure that you want me to model for you?" She stopped behind the bed Kelly had rolled around on that morning. "I'm not a skinny flapper-girl and I'm not a petite cheerleader type either. I've just got too much of everything – legs, butt, boobs – you name it."

"That's what makes you special," he said. He picked up his camera and looked at her expectantly. "We don't have to do anything special. I want to try out some ideas. For me. Not anything I'd sell to Mr. McPherson."

Rebecca smiled. She was more flattered by his simple statement than a million compliments from Lance or any of the other boys at school. She toyed with the neckline of her dress, a slow grin creeping across her face. She pulled her hair back into a bun and fished a pair of thick rimmed glasses from the prop chest.

Rebecca walked over to a bookshelf and looked at Stevie. "I'd better have some sort of disguise," she said. "Who knows how carried away I might get."

Stevie didn't answer, he just quietly snapped picture after picture. Rebecca pretended to be a "horny librarian," touching herself as she removed each piece of clothing. By the end of the first roll Rebecca was down to her underwear. Stevie had thought he was going to blow his wad in his pants when she turned directly toward the camera, reached behind her head, and let her hair down. Her auburn tresses cascaded down her swan white neck, the curls resting on the slopes of her breasts. 

While Stevie loaded the next roll of film, she teased one nipple until it raised a dent in her silk brassiere. When he returned, she slipped out of her bra. Cupping one heavy breast, she lifted her full round globe and licked her own nipple. For the second time that afternoon, Stevie's cock threatened to erupt inside his pants.

Finally, toward the end of Stevie's second roll of film, Rebecca tossed her panties onto the bookshelf. Parading around nude, Rebecca turned to and fro, showing the camera her long legs and luscious curves from every angle. Stevie shot the last picture and scrambled back to the darkroom to load another roll but Rebecca stopped him.

"That's enough pictures for today, I think." 

Stevie almost dropped his camera. She smelled of soap, clean and fresh, with only a hint of the musky scent that signaled her excitement. She took his free hand and pressed it against her breast. 

"God, your touch sets me on fire," she sighed. 

She moved his hand from her breast to the furry triangle at the junction her legs. She rubbed his hand along the length of her damp slit, moaning and leaning against him. 

"Make me cum," she pleaded, "make me cum. I'm sooo close. Soo close." She buried her face in his neck, whimpering as she humped his hand. Several sharp cries burst from her lips, she shuddered, and then collapsed into his arms.

"I needed that." She looked into his face and kissed him. "But that was selfish of me."

She crawled down his body, freeing his cock on the way down to her knees. She marveled at Stevie's long, broad trouser snake as she held it in her hands. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember all that Millie had shown her that day in the laundry room. She wrapped her mouth around his cock, sucking and pulling his cock until he unloaded his heavy measure of cum into her mouth.

Rebecca sat back, still holding Stevie's deflating cock. "We've got to come up with some way that we can take the next step."

Still recovering from his orgasm, Stevie could only nod. "I'll see what I can do," he croaked.

-=)0(=-

That night, RJ let himself into Elsa's apartment, announcing his arrival with a flourish. Hoisting a bottle of French champagne over his head, RJ took his protégé into his arms and swung her around in a tight circle. 

"We're going to celebrate, babe." RJ spun her like a top, whipping off the champagne cork with a pop, spilling some of the wine over his fist. He took a long pull straight from the bottle. "Ahhh." He held the bottle so that she could try. "It's the real stuff."

RJ rattled around the little apartment, rambling on about this and that, while Elsa prepared herself for what would come next. They'd been having sex in his office every day for the last two weeks. Sometimes she bent over his desk and let him take her. He liked to fuck her hard, trying to make her cry out, but she'd bite her lip and whine like a mewling kitten until her the sensations in her cunt overwhelmed her other senses and she'd explode in an orgasmic kaleidoscope. Other times, he'd make her kneel behind his desk and take his cock into her mouth, blowing him without using her hands. 

At first, he had laughed at her attempts to control his long, thick member without the use of her hands. "You know, babe, when you're able to swallow my johnson, you'll be ready to be on the Board of Directors."

Now, after he'd thrown himself onto her couch, still swilling the fine champagne straight from the bottle, she felt the familiar signs of excitement building up inside her. Elsa had tried to tell herself that she only did these things with RJ because he was going to help her get a promotion, but she knew that, after only two weeks, she was ready to try anything to please him. This was the first time he'd come to her apartment and she tingled with anticipation.

"Take off your clothes," he said. "Now that we've got a little privacy, I want to see that hot little body of yours."

Elsa took off her clothes hesitantly, awkwardly tossing her garments on the couch beside RJ. RJ took another swig from the bottle, gesturing that she should turn around for him. He swirled the wine around his mouth like mouthwash as he surveyed her svelte lines. She was lean and taut, like a greyhound. Elsa's breasts and hips barely made curves on her skinny frame.

Stark naked, Elsa stood in front of the couch, her arms held stiffly at her sides. RJ reached forward and poked his fingers through the dark reddish-brown tangle that covered her quim. Her pussy lips were as spare as the rest of her, a small little peach set at the top of her thighs.

RJ undressed while Elsa got some glasses from the kitchen. When she returned he was sprawled naked on the couch, his half-hard cock lying across his thigh. He enjoyed watching her move across the room, the twin dimples at the top of her ass rolling smoothly up and down as she walked. Her small breasts rippled as she turned to set the glasses on the end table. 

He poured the wine into some tumblers and indicated that she should sit next to him. Ignoring her glass, she leaned over his legs and took his cock by its base. She covered his member with her mouth, her cheeks hollowing with the suction as she worked to get him hard. RJ took another pull from his drink and reached across her back, probing her pussy from behind.

"Climb on up," he said, helping her position herself across his lap. "I want to feel my cock inside your tight pussy."

She rubbed his thick pole against her slit, toying with him for a moment. He reached for her with a growl and lifted her hips, threatening to impale her on his rod. Still holding his cock, she inserted the round head into her pussy and flexed her thighs, bobbing up and down slightly as she accepted his long, thick cock into her body.

She made noises deep in her throat as she worked her way down his nine inch staff. The closer she got to his hips, the more noise she made. Her eyes were clenched shut and her mouth gaped. Her back arched and her hands tangled themselves in her hair.

Reaching the bottom of his pole, she pressed her hips against his. Instead of immediately moving up and down on his long shaft, she rotated her hips and ground her pelvis against his. His hands, cupped around her ass, pulled and tried to get her to ride his cock, but Elsa continued to swivel and rotate. 

"Stop teasing and fuck, you little slut," he groaned.

His hand smacked her firm ass, leaving a red handprint but eliciting only a short moan from the redhead. He spanked her again, finally getting her to move up and down on his cock, impaling herself with short deep strokes. His hand held her taut rump. His fingers could feel the oil seeping from her tight pussy. He gathered some of the fluid from his shaft and spread it around her wrinkled coral rosette. Elsa's breathing got heavier as he massaged her back passage with his slick fingers. He pressed his fingertips against the tight muscular ring, letting her movement push his digit inside her virgin ass. 

Elsa babbled, incoherent moans spilling from her mouth, as RJ's finger tunneled and spread her asshole. Turning his hand slightly, he pressed his finger against his cock and felt the thick pole plunging in and out of Elsa's velvety tunnel through the thin fleshy wall. The increased friction affected them both drastically. RJ felt Elsa's pussy convulse, spastically clutching the length of his pole. He cried out and shot his load of jism deep inside her body, draining his balls in quick molten jets.

Once they'd recovered enough to move, RJ washed up and dressed. Elsa still lay on the couch and he tossed her a hand towel. 

"Lie on that. You don't want to get cumstains on the cushions." 

She watched him silently as he fixed his tie in the mirror. "I'll see you at work," he said, letting himself out.