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Wer nach dem Schwert langt, der kommt durch das Schwert um.
(pittoresque allemand qui amène le jugement a posteriori)
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<1st attachment, "Veronica2.doc" begin>
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VERONIKA 3
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, Veronika, 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 mouth
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.]
<1st attachment end>
<2nd attachment, "Veronica4.doc" begin>
VERONICA 4
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 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 going 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 Veronica, 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 warm 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 histled. "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, Veronica."
"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.
<2nd attachment end>
<3rd attachment, "Veronica5.doc" begin>
Veronica5
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
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
parkland, 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,
dickwise, 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.
<3rd attachment end>
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