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Subject: {ASSM} Wicked People? {Varkel} (bF+ bM+ bm bf oral anal pedo first) [5/9]
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Date: Wed, 07 Nov 2007 09:10:02 -0500
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Wicked People?

a Novelette by Varkel
Fall, 2007



Chapter 5: _Sammy Takes a Cherry_



The skies were clear and starry in New Orleans and the airplane was on
time, which was good because Sammy's connecting flight departed half an
hour later.  The New Orleans flight terminated and the friendly 
stewardess, having no further duty, took Sammy's hand and led him toward
the outbound gate.

"That woman in the seat beside you," she said when they had escaped the
deplaning crowd, "did you get to know her well?"

Sammy smiled up at the young woman.  "I asked her about wicked people.
She told me she was just impatient."

"Impatient for what?"

"She didn't say, but I think it was ... umm ..."

"You think it was what?"

"I can't talk about it."

The stewardess's eyes narrowed though she continued to propel him along
the concourse.  "What did she do to you?"

"Well, she let me look at St. Louise until we flew into the clouds."

"She wouldn't give your seat back?"

"She said it was hers."

Still walking, she said thoughtfully, "I suppose she couldn't hurt you 
much with people all around her.  Still she stole your seat.  Let me see
your ticket."

She took one glance and returned it.  "24D.  The _D_ means it was a 
window seat.  If she made you get up she stole your seat.  On your next
flight you're in 28B, which is an aisle seat.  If anyone tries to take 
it, tell the stewardess."

"Yes, ma'am."

"What else did she do to you?"

"I can't talk about it."

"Oh, you can tell _me_.  At the moment I'm like your mother."

Sammy thought it over and shrugged.  "She sucked me off."

For an instant the stewardess's eyes widened and her mouth fell open but
it closed with a snap.  "Young man, you mustn't say such things!"

Sammy nodded.  "That's what I said: I can't talk about it."

Her expression softened.  "I mean ... you're kidding, right?"

He blinked at her.  "Is it a joke?"

"How could she ... do what you said?  People were all around you."

"Would that make it funny?"

She shook her head.  "You need to work on that sense of humor.  Well, 
here we are.  Good luck to you."

They had arrived at another ticket counter.  Sammy found himself in a 
line of passengers already boarding.


* * *


On the connecting flight Sammy's aisle seat was next to a teen age boy 
who stared at him curiously when he sat down and buckled his seatbelt.

"Traveling alone?" the boy asked in a scratchy baritone.

"Yes," Sammy replied, nodding.

"It's unusual the stewardess didn't bring you in.  What are you: ten or
eleven?"

"Twelve."

The teenager fell silent but his eyes studied Sammy from head to toe, 
lingering on slim arms and the shapely legs extending from mid-thigh 
shorts.  He grinned in curious anticipation and said with a lowered 
voice, "This might be an interesting flight after all."

"Why shouldn't it be?" asked Sammy, adding in his still-unchanged 
soprano, "My first one certainly was."

"How many flights have you made?"

"One."

The teenager blinked and chuckled a little.  "I guess one time's enough
to get the idea -- for a lot of things besides flying."

"Like what?" asked Sammy.

"Well ... like fooling around."  He fell silent but continued to study 
his seatmate.  When the bustle in the cabin abated in preparation for 
the impending takeoff, he said, "You're a fox even if your hair is cut 
like a boy's."

"A fox?" asked Sammy, blinking.

"I'll say -- a foxy chick."

Sammy stared uncomprehendingly.  At least he could correct one 
misapprehension.  "My hair's cut that way because I _am_ a boy."

The teenager's eyes grew huge.  "You're yanking my sack!"

"Your what?  I'm a boy and I can prove it."

"You sure fooled me!' the teenager exclaimed in evident disappointment.
"I'm Kevin.  What's your name?"

"Sammy.  How old are you?"

"Sixteen.  I'm off to visit my aunt in Lorain."

"I'm going to my grandma's funeral."

"Sorry, Sammy."

"No big deal.  I didn't know her well."

Kevin stared at the younger boy and braced as the plane began to taxi.

"I don't like flying," he said.  Minutes later, once the craft had 
soared into the sky and the seat belt light blinked off, he breathed an
obvious sigh of relief.  "Landing is even scarier."

"I think it's fun," said Sammy.

Both removed their seatbelts ostentatiously.

Kevin said, "I don't mean to dis you, Sammy, but you do look like a 
girl."

"I've been told that sometimes, but I have proof."

Kevin chuckled.  "Even the smallest cock would be proof enough."

"It's not small, Kevin."

"Really!  A girly-boy with a three-incher?"

"I'm not a girly-boy!"

"My bad.  I only said it because you look feminine even if you do have a
cock."

"You sound wicked, Kevin!"

"Wicked?  Not really, Sammy, but I like to tease."

They sat quietly for several minutes, lulled by the engines' roar.  The
cabin was dark except for the occasional overhead lights of passengers 
who were reading.

"Since you're not wicked," Sammy eventually said, "I'll let you see it,
if you want."

"Why would I want to see your dick?  I'm not queer."

"A woman on the other flight did, and we played around."

Kevin studied the boy, whose face was so pretty.  "A woman?  You mean a
girl."

"No, an older woman, at least 30, I think."

"No shit!  What did you do?"

Sammy hesitated.  "I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Then why'd you bring it up?  You mean you _wanted_ her to look at it."

"Uncle Bern said never to tell on people."

"I suppose that's good advice, even for people you don't really know."

Sammy found that he couldn't allow the _wanted_ conclusion to stand.  
"She took it out and played with it.  I leaned over her shoulder to look
out the window at St. Louis and she sucked me off."

"Good god!" murmured Kevin with suddenly wide eyes.  "You mean she had 
the window seat?  And you sort of leaned over ...  Goddamn, kid, that's
giving me a rod like a steel pipe!"

"A steel pipe?"  Sammy giggled.  "Show me."

"I said I'm not queer."

"What's a queer?"

"I can't believe you don't ...  Shit!  Show me yours first."

Sammy shrugged.  "Okay."  He pulled a blanket over his lap and beneath 
it pushed down his shorts and underpants.  "I'm ready now."

Kevin raised the separating seat arm and diffidently lifted the blanket
edge to view naked flesh beneath it, in particular an erect cock.

"God!  It's almost as long as mine!"

"Do you want to suck it, Kevin?"

"Of course not!  What are you, some kind of little pervert?"

"What's a pervert?"

Kevin could not resist placing a hand on the young boy's near thigh to 
feel its feminine softness.  Trembling, the hand slid sideways to enfold
the turgid cock briefly before jerking away.  "Christ!" he mumbled under
his breath.  "I can't believe I did that.  I guess _I'm_ a pervert!"

Sammy proposed, "Let me feel of yours."

The blanket easily covered both laps.  After verifying that no one was 
walking the aisle, Kevin slid down his clothing under the wool.  "Okay."

Sammy's arm slid under the blanket.  He examined the alien genitals 
thoroughly.  "Yours is longer than mine but not as thick as my uncle's."

"Hey, kid, that feels good!  But I've got to go to the toilet."

"You don't need to leave, Kevin.  I'll do it for you."

"Do what?"

"We both know."

"I'm not queer!"

"I'll suck your cock."

"You suck cock yet say that you're not a queer?"

"What's a queer?"

"Somebody who sucks --  No.  The right definition is somebody who fucks
his own sex."

"Like a man and a boy or two men?"

"Or two boys.  Or two girls."

"Is that wicked?"

"Damn right!"  Kevin, whose hand had recovered its grip on Sammy's 
organ, hesitated.  "I mean, some people think so."

"Helen says anything that feels good can't be wicked."

"That sounds good."

"I mostly fuck women," Sammy remarked reminiscently.

"Christ, Sammy!  You're just a kid.  Why would women let you fuck them?"

"They're the ones who start it."

"God, you're lucky!  I've never been with a girl, Sammy.  You're the 
closest I've come, but you have a cock."

"My uncle says I make a fine girl.  He's going to buy me a dress."

"Jesus Christ, a dress!"  Kevin put an arm around the lad's back.  "I've
never kissed a girl."

"Try me," Sammy said, raising his face to meet Kevin's lips.

They kissed in the dimness of the cabin light, swapping spit in growing
passion.

When Kevin withdraw slightly, Sammy suggested, "Now is when cocksucking
feels good."

"Yeah!" Kevin agreed breathlessly.  "Keep an eye out for anybody coming
down the aisle."

"Okay.  Do you like to do it?"

But the teenager had pushed his share of the blanket to his knees and 
slid forward in the seat.  A seven inch prong of flesh thrust high from
his groin.  He clasp his arms under his thighs and bent his head down 
farther than Sammy could have imagined.  His back forming a tight curl,
he slurped most of his own cockhead into his mouth, bottom lip trembling
on the coronal edge.

"Good heavens!" Sammy exclaimed, staring in shock.  "How can you do 
that?"

Kevin chuckled nasally, mouth working as he tongued himself.  Sammy 
shoved the tense nearer arm.  "Tell me how.  Please!"

Kevin raised his head and licked his lips.  "You mean you can't do it?"

"No, I can't.  I never heard of anyone who could."

Kevin nodded.  "I never did either.  But I think it's something you can
learn if you practice bending your back."

"Really?"

"I started working on it when I was 13 and could only touch it with my 
tongue.  You see how much better I've got.  My dick grew a lot too."

"Can you take it any deeper?"

"Not so far, but I'm still working on it."  He snickered.  "Every time 
I'm alone."

"Then you don't need anybody else."

"Well, I guess not, but ..."  Kevin rose up, straightened his back, 
pulled up the blanket and took a deep breath.  "Did you mean it when you
offered to ..."

"To suck your cock?"

"And let me suck _yours_."

"Sure!"

"I want to compare it ... both ways."

Sammy leaned into the aisle and glanced to right and left.  
Straightening, he lifted his blanket invitingly.  Kevin took a deep 
breath and leaned down into the exposed hairless groin.  He sucked 
briefly on the knob then slurped half the shaft into his mouth.  After a
moment he looked up.  "That's a big difference."

"My cock's smaller?"

"No.  I mean getting more than just the head.  Hey, I like it."  His 
mouth returned to the task.  His head began to bob and his tongue to 
swirl.

Three hours had passed since Sammy's discharge into the selfish 
schoolteacher.  This very experienced fellator's skillful mouth soon 
elicited the lad's seminal outpouring, volume mostly recovered.  Perhaps
the delivery was totally unexpected and the cock head unusually deep in
Kevin's throat.  The teenager suddenly jumped up almost to a standing 
position, cracking his skull on the overhead shelves, throwing the 
blanket off and exposing a still spurting cock.  His eyes, turned to 
Sammy's, were huge.  He flopped back into his seat and began a coughing
fit while Sammy struggled to untangle his short britches from the 
blanket and snatch them up.

Kevin briefly coughed white phlegm over his fingers but soon produced a
handkerchief from his hip pocket and dried them.  Sammy looked hurriedly
around.  A woman forward of their row had turned to regard them 
curiously.  The people in the parallel seat across the aisle seemed to 
be asleep.  When Kevin subsided, the woman returned to her own business.

"You didn't expect that?" asked Sammy incredulously.

Kevin had recovered enough to chuckle.  "You know what happened?  I 
didn't feel it coming."

"You mean --"

"If it was my dick I'd know it was coming."

Sammy giggled, finally following the strange perspective.  A shadow down
the aisle caught his attention.

"Here comes somebody."

Kevin made sure the blanket concealed everything.  A young male steward
paused before their seat and grinned roguishly.  "You guys the ones with
the coughing fit?"

"Me," said Kevin huskily.  "You got a coke?"

"Sure have.  One coke, coming up.  How about you, sweetheart?"

"I'd like a coke too," said Sammy, blinking at the designation.

"Two cokes."  His attention returned to Kevin.  "I've got everything you
want, sweetie.  Lean over here and let me tell you something."

Kevin obeyed.  The young man whispered something that Sammy didn't 
catch.  Kevin jerked back with a muffled exclamation, hand rising to his
ear.  The steward giggled and pushed on down the aisle.

"Son of a bitch!" muttered Kevin in low tones.

"What happened?" asked Sammy.

"Goddamn twink!"

"Twink?  What did he say?"

"He said, 'Come back to the galley after awhile and I'll do this to your
pecker,' and he licked my ear."

"A galley is where they cook on a ship."

"Yeah.  On a plane it's where they keep the snacks.  That guy's probably
in charge of it."

Sammy thought it over and giggled.

Kevin sniffed, "It's not funny.  What if he's got AIDS?"

Sammy had heard mention of sexual diseases.  "You can catch it in the 
ear?"

After a moment Kevin chuckled.  "I guess not."

"Maybe he wants to suck you off."

"Oh, yeah."  Kevin chuckled again.  "You mean you think it's a 
compliment?"

"Well, it is when _I_ offer."

"Huh?"

After a quick glance around, Sammy raised Kevin's end of the blanket and
dived under it.  The once proud erection was sadly wilted but the lad's
mouth soon resurrected it.  He worked diligently, taking in almost all 
the longer shaft, as much of it as he could without gagging, and soon 
felt the pulsations that precede a climax.

But Kevin's hand pulled on his shoulder.  "Twink's coming back."

Sammy rose and smoothed the blanket.

The young man stopped beside them again.  "That was two cokes, right?"

Sammy asked curiously, "What would you do to me in the galley?"

The man shook his head.  "I don't play with girls."  He winked at Kevin
and proceeded up the aisle.

"I guess I would surprise him too," Sammy groused.

Kevin took a deep breath.  "God, I almost came!  Too bad we have to wait
for those cokes."

The hour being four in the morning, both boys fell asleep before the 
promised drinks arrived.  They awoke to the overhead light and the pilot
announcing their arrival at Cleveland, which sparkled along the lake 
shore below them like a millionaire's array of jewels.  Before each the
tray table supported a wilted paper cup of brown liquid whose ice had 
melted.


* * *


Sammy's second leg ended at Hopkins International, where the aircraft 
landed about 3:30 a.m.  He was last off the plane, held back by a 
stewardess who accompanied him to the concourse and his waiting mother.

"How was the flight, dear?" Adelaide asked, searching his face.

"I came twice!" he bragged in her ear after kissing her cheek.

"Well, yes," she responded, laughing gently, I guess you did.  "To New 
Orleans and then Cleveland.  Are you very tired?  Did you get any 
sleep?"

"Sleep?"

Her laugh subsided to an indulgent chuckle.  "I guess not."  She sighed.
"I'm very tired, son, even if you're not.  We're fortunate Mama's 
chauffeur is still with us.  Sammy, this is Dilway."

"Hi-ya, Sammy," intoned a gray-haired man in a green uniform standing 
beside his mother.  "Give me your tickets and I'll pick up your luggage.
Do you know the way to the car, Ms. Canfield?"

"Yes, Dilway, and thank you.  Come along, Sammy."

Both mother and son fell asleep almost immediately upon arriving in the
limousine.  Sammy awoke groggily to the rocking as his luggage went into
the back but not again until his mother shook him awake.

"We're at Grandma's.  Come on, Sammy.  They've put a cot in my room for
you to use tonight."

He slept through breakfast and lunch.  A maid shook him awake in 
midafternoon.  "You're Sammy, right?  Here's a snack.  Your mother's 
orders are to eat, take a shower, change clothes and come downstairs.  
You need to meet your relatives."

"My relatives?"

"Yeah.  I'll bet you didn't know you had so many.  Nobody else did 
either!"

Indeed the ground floor was full of people.  Several large women pulled
Sammy comfortingly into their breasts, but he promptly forgot every name
he learned except one: Sherry Morgan, a third cousin, so he was told, 
with black shoulder-length hair, deep blue eyes and perky nipples 
pushing at her tank top.

When the adults lost interest, she looked at him with a sneer.  "What're
you, about twelve?"

"That's right."

"A baby!"

He laughed incredulously.  "A what?"

She tilted her head speculatively.  "Though you might be good for one 
thing."

"One?"

"Yeah.  The pool's still open but they won't let me use it alone.  Bet 
you can't swim."

"Can too."

"Well, what are you waiting for?  Go put on your suit and I'll meet in 
the back."

In five minutes they stood beside the large blue pool in the warm summer
sun, appropriately dressed in bikinis.  Despite the old lady's terminal
illness, her household arrangements had continued.

"How much longer will they keep it open?" asked Sherry rhetorically.

"Who?"

"Whoever gets this house."

"That's right," he said wonderingly.  "It'll be somebody else's, won't 
it?"

"Of course!"  Sherry was smug and sought to be imposing, eight months 
his senior and a teenager at 13.  She arched her back to emphasize the 
small breasts concealed by the bikini top.

"I hadn't thought about that," he admitted.

"What do you think about anything?" she asked scornfully.

Sammy blinked at her.  "About what in particular?"

"Anything at all.  You're still twelve -- just a baby!  I'm a teenager."

"So what?" he asked.  "You're a kid too, like me."

"Am not!  I have a boyfriend."

"What's his name?"

"Al, like in Alfred.  He's 14 and when he does this" -- she clenched her
arm to emphasize the biceps -- "he's strong enough to ... to throw you 
in the pool."

"You think that needs strength?"  With a laugh he shoved her towards the
edge.  Fortunately for her argument she had room to take one step and 
save herself from an involuntary dousing.

"See?" she demanded, dancing further away.  "You can't even throw _me_ 
in!"

Sammy felt benevolent after sleeping all morning, being petted by a 
houseful of female relatives and squeezed, in consolation of his 
presumed bereavement, between many pairs of bountiful breasts.  Now he 
stood with Sherry in the late afternoon sun, apparently the only guests
interested in the pool, and smiled tolerantly at the annoyed girl.  
"Didn't really try."

"Oh, yeah?  You couldn't if you did try.  You're still a baby."

Sammy hunched his shoulders, wondering about her motive.  She was no 
more than a youngster, the same height as he.  She lacked the musky odor
of a woman and her small tits were not impressive.

"What does a 14-year-old like about you?" he asked curiously.

She raised her chin with a sniff.  "We do _everything _together, Al and
I.  Have you even touched a girl?"

"No," he answered truthfully, having only known mature women.

"I thought so!  Just a baby!"

"Why do you keep harping on that?" he asked, beginning to feel similar 
annoyance.  "I'm obviously bigger than a baby."

"So you're a _big_ baby."

"The same size as you."

"But I'm a teenager!"

"That means you're at least thirteen.  So what?"

Her eyes flashed at him.  "Don't you understand _anything_?  Aren't you
looking forward to being a teenager?"

Suddenly he recalled Helen's words about fast-changing bodies and said 
positively, "No, I'm not."

He lowered himself to the pool's edge and dangled his feet in the water.

She joined him, hips in contact.  "You're weird.  You have nice legs, 
though.  And your skin is pretty.  You don't even have acne."  Hers was
only beginning.  She had squeezed the pus from two ugly bumps on her 
cheek just that morning.

He declared, "I'm not a teenager nor a baby either."

"Yes, you are.  You're a baby."

"Am not."

"Are too."

He pulled aside his swim trunks to expose the lolling cock.  "Does a 
baby have one like that?"

Sherry gawked at the flaccid, four inch dong, creamy smooth with an 
unobstructed view of the circumcised bright pink glans.  A blue vein was
faintly visible near the base.  "You filthy little --"  She started to 
protest his display but halted in mid flow and asked more softly, "Do 
all the boys have one like that?"

He grinned at her.  "How about Al's?"

"I, I think --"

"Of course it's not even hard yet," he remarked proudly.

"You mean it gets ... bigger?"

He released the swim suit and dropped into the water.  Sherry splashed 
in beside him.

"How big does it get?" she asked, touching his shoulder.

"I've never measured it, but I'm not a baby."

"I guess not, Sammy, but you still look like a kid everywhere else."

"I _am_ a kid, and so are you."

She mused, "I don't think Al's is that big."

Sammy had never thought of kids having sex.  His only experience had 
been with adults, which he considered normal, so long as they weren't 
wicked.  He had immediately spotted the discrepancy in Sherry's tale.

"I thought you and Al had done everything?"

She blushed.  "I ...  I felt his when we were wrestling.  On my hip."

"Wrestling.  Were you fighting?"

"No, no, just playing around."  She took a breath.  "Like kids do."

"So you admit being a kid?"

"If it makes you feel any better.  Your thing ... umm ...  Can I see it
again?"

The cousins waded to the shallow end of the pool, careful to position a
large bush between themselves and the windows of the house.  He pushed 
down his trunks.

"Can I touch it?" she asked.

"If that's what you want."

Sherry's hand enfolded the soft flesh that swelled quickly beyond her 
grasp.

"Wow!" she exclaimed.  "It's huge!"

"Not a baby's?"

"No way!"

Her smug demeanor had departed.  Now she regarded her pretty cousin in a
totally new light.  When he pulled up his trunks, her face was that of 
child's whose candy store has closed prematurely.

She had an idea and asked hopefully, "Do you want to see me?"

"What's to see?"

"These!" she exclaimed, raising her bikini top to expose conical 
pubescent breasts.

He chuckled contemptuously.  "You're the baby."

Fuming, she climbed from the pool and raced to the house.


* * *


Later, after supper with the adults assembled downstairs, Sherry went 
upstairs in the huge old house to seek out Sammy.  She found him in the
third floor den, lounging on the sofa to watch a small television.  She
sat beside him, not touching.  The show concerned China, described by a
know-it-all narrator whose tone she associated with the classroom.

"Boring!" she declared.

"The announcer said they'll be the world's strongest nation before 
long."

"Who cares?  Boring, like I said."

"Is there something else you want to see."

She grinned at him.  "You're right.  I want to see it again."

He offered the remote.

"Not on TV, you dummy."

He studied her.  "My cock?  Why?"

"Why do you think?  What's the matter with you?"

"You really want to see my cock?"

"Girls are interested in cocks.  If you don't know that, you really are
a baby."

"Girls?"  He sighed.  "I'll admit I don't know much about girls."

Tonight she wore a halter that exposed her belly and shorts that 
revealed long, shapely legs as she stood up.  "Where's your bedroom?"

"Nobody said."

"Then we'll go to mine.  Come on."

Curious, Sammy followed her into an adjoining room.

She closed the door behind him, pushed the locking button and took a 
breath.  "Let's trade."

"What?  Bedrooms?"

"Looks.  Didn't you ever trade pull-downs with the little girl next 
door?"

"Never was one next door."

She shook her head.  "Amazing!  Well, here's your chance to find out 
about girls."

"Aren't they just half-grown women?"

"I can't believe you're not interested!"

"I didn't say that."

"Then take off your clothes."  As she spoke Sherry began removing hers.
Braless and sockless, she wore the same quantity of clothing as he: top,
shorts, underpants and sneakers, which he kicked off right behind hers.

They regarded each other intently.  He realized she was more than half 
grown, with an hour-glass figure and legs shapely as his own, plus the 
perky breasts with sharp, very dark nipples.  Her black hair was down to
the shoulders and her eyes were as dark as her nipples.

Sammy became conflicted.  Blood hardened his cock at the close 
inspection of her charms, yet he could not imagine having sex with 
another kid.  Sherry had no such difficulty.  She stepped near and 
palmed his hairless chest, tweaking a nipple that was raised on a cone 
of flesh.  She sought his mouth, and he relented, meeting her tongue.

She backed away breathlessly.  "Oh, god, Sammy!  Do you have a rubber?"

He blinked and asked in total innocence, "Is it going to rain?"

Sherry stepped back to stare.  "Was that a joke?"

"What good's a rubber?"

She realized his face was prettier than hers.  But a glance at the 
turgid cock confirmed his masculinity.  She explained.  "I know you 
don't have AIDS or any of that crap, but I've never done it before, 
Sammy, not all the way."

"Never done what?"

"You know."

Did she mean fucking?  "Well, you're just a kid."  He started to ask if
grown men came to her, the reverse of Helen and himself, when she seemed
to change the subject.

She said hesitantly, "Still, I think I'm safe."

"Safe?"

"Yeah, my period ended on Friday."

He frowned thoughtfully.  "You waited it out?"

"Well, yeah."  She chuckled wryly.  "Like there's any choice!"

"Sometimes there is," he remarked, thinking of Mamma's blue periods when
she felt bad and periods of light, as she called them, when she felt 
good.  "Mamma says with a little planning you can avoid the bad ones."

"She what?"  Sherry huffed, eyes wide.  "Only one way -- and that's 
worse than the period."

He blinked.  "What's worse?"

"Pregnancy is worse!"

"Pregnancy?"

"Don't you understand anything?"

"I guess not, Sherry.  What do you want?"

Her hand closed around his cock.  "It's stiff enough."

"For what?"

"To do it."  An arm around his shoulders pulled their bodies together.

"You do mean fucking!  But you're just a kid, Sherry."

"I'm thirteen and I want to do it!"

"Do you think we can?"

"It's stiff enough."  Hands on his arms, she fell back onto the bed and
pulled him atop her.

He thought to take his position between her outspread legs.  But an 
etiquette taught by adult females made him pause.  He dropped his face 
upon the nearly hairless groin and with a stiff tongue licked the folds
of flesh, careful to avoid pressure on the clit.  After making noises of
surprise and disgust shading rapidly to delight, the girl screamed in a
powerful orgasm.

His last climax had occurred hours before at 30,000 feet.  Strongly 
needing release, he rose between her raised knees and pushed his cock 
sharply into her, ripping the hymen.

"Stop!  Stop!" she cried, pushing at his shoulders.  "It hurts!"

He was fully into her, six inches deep.  "You're kidding!"

"No, I'm not.  You ripped me.  Now get off!"

Shaking his head, resolving henceforth to stay away from young girls, he
withdrew to lie beside her during the few seconds of jerking necessary 
for relief.  She watched in fascination, the pain in her groin 
notwithstanding, as the pretty cousin gasped and spewed onto his belly.

After a bit she stretched over and kissed his chin.  "I'm sorry, Sammy.
I wish you could have done me all the way, but you hurt me.  It still 
hurts."

"You're just a baby, Sherry."

She held up a red-tinged hand.  "Maybe I _was_ a baby.  I'm a woman 
now!"

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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