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Message-ID: <62470asstr$1357981801@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Fateful Comic Books {Kellis} (bb bbg oral)
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Date: Sat, 12 Jan 2013 04:10:01 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Fateful Comic Books

by Kellis
Fall, 2012


"All right," said Corey.  "If you're sure you want to hear my fuck 
story.  I didn't get started the same way you did."

They were sitting over a checkerboard on the porch of the home.  Others
conversed at adjacent tables but none dawdled close.  Don shrugged.  "If
it was the same, it'd be less interesting anyway.  Sure, I want to hear
it.  What else we got to do?"

"It starts about 1950, a little after the time of your tale."  He 
chuckled reminiscently.  "You ever hear of Jimmy Walker's claim to've 
never known a woman ruined by a book?"

"Mayor of New York -- _that_ Jimmy Walker?"

"Yeah.  When I'm being whimsical I sometimes think I was a boy ruined by
one."


* * *


My pal Jack and I were walking home from school on a warm sunny day in 
early fall.  He said, "I got something to show you.  Let's go through 
the woods."

So we turned off on the path that wound among trees and brambles.  Out 
of sight of the street, Jack pulled me down beside him on a fallen log,
released his big geography book from the carrying strap and fished out a
booklet that had been slipped among its pages.  "Let's see how you like
this."

It consisted of maybe half a dozen sheets of paper, each about two by 
six inches, stapled together at one end, printed in black and white -- 
the size of a panel from the daily funny paper, which I had been reading
for a year.  Except you'd never find this in a daily paper!

"Gosh!" I declared, otherwise struck dumb.  The front page is a line 
drawing that displays a naked woman, lying on her back in a haystack, 
shapely legs up in the air with a rapturous look on her face, while a 
hairy man pushes his huge cock into her cunt.  White droplets fall from
it.  In bold letters over their heads it says, "Burning Up the Hay."

"It's what they call a fuck book," said Jack.

I paged through it slowly, studying every drawing.

The storyline is very simple: they fuck in about every position.  Near 
the end they're at it so hard -- you could tell because his ass is a lot
of lines, just a blur -- that flames spring up.  Her balloon says, 
"We've set the hay afire!"  His balloon says, 'I'm coming!'  He pulls 
out his cock and sprays jizz all over the place, putting out the fire.

I had never before seen anything like that and I'll never forget it.  
The art was done well enough for us uncritical reviewers, except tits 
and cock were monsters.  For the first time my dick, which heretofore 
had risen only when jostled or full of piss, was hard as a rock.

"What d'you think?" said Jack.

"Good gravy!" was about all I could manage.  My old man had whipped my 
ass for cussing and I was honestly trying to avoid a repeat.

With a laugh Jack pointed to the flying jizz.  "Some gravy!"

"Where'd you get this?" I wanted to know.

"She made me promise not to tell.  I've got to give it back."

"'She?'"

"You won't tell anybody, will you?"

"Cross my heart."

"Okay.  It was Jane Fluret."

Fifth Grade boys pay little attention to clothing, but even I had 
noticed that Jane wore ragged jeans, unheard-of on girls in those days.
She lived in a dilapidated house with no grass in the yard and was 
always hanging on the edge of girl groups.  I'd heard her cuss.

"Where'd she get it?"

He shrugged.  "Her big brother, I guess."

I paged through it again, licking my lips.  "You got anymore?"

"Yeah."  He chuckled and fished another out of the geography book.  
Popeye and Olive Oyl starred in this one.  The drawing was poorly 
rendered but intelligible.

Olive Oyl has good legs but no tits.  Popeye's dick is a shriveled 
sausage that Olive Oyl can't get hard.  She sucks it and tries to put it
in her cunt but it won't go.  Wimpy, the hamburger lover, happens by.  
Of course his little dick bounces right out there and Olive Oyl leaps on
it.  While watching Wimpy's jizz leak from Olive's cunt, Popeye's eyes 
give off daggers and he chugs a can of spinach.  You can guess what 
happens.  His cock swells to about six feet.  When he shoves it into 
Olive Oyl's cunt, the head pops out of her mouth and Wimpy runs around,
slurping the jizz out of the air.

I laughed with amazement.  My dick feels warm and sweet.  "Holy crud!" I
yell.

Jack laughed too and produced one more fuck book.  He had saved the best
for last.  The cover shows three naked women sprawled on a couch and an
old guy in fancy clothes looking from the side.  Its title is _Two and 
Three in the City_.  It even has a by-line: "Three lonely girls."  The 
girls in the story are pretty, the tits and cocks, while larger than 
life, are not impossibly so and the old guy looks like the plutocrat on
a Monopoly board.  The draftsmanship is excellent with lines thicker in
the middle of curves, which I learned years later is typical of the 
three women who drew part of the early _Marvelman_ strip.

It's so well drawn you can tell that the boy, who the old guy takes up 
with first, is about our age.  He has the required big dick but no cock
hair when the old guy pulls his pants down.  After sucking the boy off 
the plutocrat licks his lips, says "That's sweet jizz!" then fucks him 
in the ass till it runs down his legs.  The old man says, "Stick with me
and I'll give you anything you can imagine."

The boy says he wants some girls, so the old guy takes them both to a 
fancy place -- a whorehouse, I would say now -- where three girls are 
waiting.  The five do everything, including a Greek sandwich or two.  
The cocks spray two or three times each and of course the girls catch it
in their mouths, claiming to love the taste.

I pointed to the sprays.  "That's what they call _jizz_, right?"

"Maybe."  Jack shrugged.  "Hugh Mack calls it come."

"Come?  I thought coming was when you make it.  If you do."

"Hugh Mack can."

Hugh Mack, big, fat, dumb and easy-going, was well behind his age group,
having failed two grades.

With a grin I suggested, "Maybe we can ask Jane."

"What does she know about jizzing boys?"

"She knew you'd like these fuck books."

"Well, who wouldn't!"

His hand darted out and felt of me through my britches.  I started to 
jerk away but his touch felt good.  He grinned.  "You like them too."

"Oh, yeah!"

He paged back to the front of the book and pointed to the closeup of the
boy's dick disappearing under the plutocrat's moustache.  "What do you 
think of that?"

"I've heard of it," I said.  "Guys who do it are called 'queers.'  They
can put you in jail for it."

"Who told you that?"

I shrugged.  "Just kids talking."  In a moment I recalled more.  "It's 
called a 'crime against nature.'"

Jack nodded, reluctantly I thought.  "Yeah.  I've heard that too.  But 
they can't put you in jail if they don't catch you."

"Unless somebody tells it," I said, thinking of my blabbermouth sister.

"That's why when you do it, you make sure the other guy does it too."

"What if it's a girl?"

"Then the law wouldn't care."

"Why's that?"  I was impressed by the unfairness.  "You could do this to
a girl too."  I pointed to the scene with the plutocrat's dick up the 
boy's ass.  It's so well drawn you can make out the pucker of the skin 
around it and the cufflink on the hand squeezing the boy's balls.

Jack sniffed.  "You couldn't grab her balls or suck her dick."

"She could suck yours."  The idea startled me.  "Do girls do that?"

He pointed to a later scene.  "They do here."

This was before television but I knew the difference between fact and 
fiction.  "I mean a real girl."

His lips pursed as if he wanted to say something.

I picked up on it.  "You know of one?"

"Jane ... kissed it."

"'_Kissed_ it?'  What do you mean?"

He stood up, looked around and grabbed my arm.  "Let's go deeper in the
woods and I'll show you."

This was Jack.  He and I both were eleven years old in the Fifth Grade.
We were the same size within a couple pounds.  I'd known him since I was
very little, when we played together in the park across from our houses.
Once I had blacked his eye while he gave me a "hot" ear.  We had touched
each other's cocks, even directed each other's piss.  I knew him better
than anyone else on Earth, but this was new: the first time had I ever 
followed him anywhere with a hard-on.  I felt a sense of anticipation.

We pushed downhill to the burbling brook where, naked, we had waded and
splashed the summer before.  He dropped his books on a moss-covered 
rock, stepped out of both shorts and underpants and regarded me 
expectantly.  "Get with it," he ordered.

I listened for other noises in the woods and looked around, but mainly 
what I noticed was his exposure.  From socks to knees his legs were 
scratched, like mine, after going through the briarbushes, but above the
knee his skin was smooth and pale.  Especially his dick, which was 
sticking straight out, at least as hard as mine, with the purple knob 
mostly exposed.  It was the first hard cock I'd ever seen, besides my 
own.  I wanted to compare them.  So down went my own shorts and 
underpants and I stepped close to him.

Mine showed less knob and had a slight upward curve while his was 
perfectly straight, but otherwise they were identical: pale with bright
purplish red on the ends.  I now understand that _fuchsia_ is the right
name for that color.  They were both about the size of my present 
forefinger except the knobs were larger.  We touched the tips together 
and both giggled.

"That looks funny," he said.

"You were going to show me what Jane did."

He squatted down, leaned forward and kissed the end of my dick.  I 
jerked back but the deed was done.  He looked up.  "Wish I could do that
to mine."

"Doubt if it's much different," I suggested.

"I'm really talking about this."  To my astonishment he caught me around
the ass, opened his mouth and sucked half my dick into it.  I thought, 
How awful it must taste!  I was ready to bash his face, but before I 
could do anything, he sucked more in and I felt something totally 
unexpected and sweeter than sugar -- but what the hell, you know what 
I'm talking about!  It was the first time I ever felt that thrill.  You
can bet I'll never forget it.

He started to bob his head, taking it almost all the way in and out.  Of
course the thrill got stronger.  My dick felt delicious, better than 
chocolate!  I stood perfectly still, unable to believe what I was 
feeling, willing to die rather than stop it.  It kept rising, more and 
more intense.  When I was certain I couldn't stand it any longer, 
suddenly it throbbed powerfully several times.  The feeling was just as
strong but its character had changed: now so sweet that it hurt.  My 
legs got weak.  I staggered backwards and sat on a boulder.

He stared at me, licked his lips, grinned knowingly and said, "You came,
didn't you?"

What did I know?  "M-maybe."  I heaved a sigh.  "Something sure 
happened!"

"What did it feel like?  Really good and getting better until you sort 
of fell off the cliff?"

"Right!" I said admiringly.  "Almost right.  You show me a cliff that 
feels like that and I'll jump every time."

"Then you came," he said positively.  Taking hold of his own cock, he 
worked his fist back and forth.

"Okay, I came.  But I didn't make any jizz.  Or did I?"

"No, you didn't.  Hugh Mack says boys don't until they're 12 or 13."

"Even if they come?"

"So he says."

His hand had been moving right along.  I said, "What are you doing?"

"Jacking off until you get ready to kiss mine."

It was my turn to grin knowingly, but I said, "Is that all you want, 
kissing?"

"No, it ain't."

"Did Jane suck your dick?"

"No.  Like I said, she only kissed it.  And played with it a little."

"Like you're doing now?"

"Yeah.  And feeling my balls.  Then she loaned me those fuck books.  
When I read them, it was the first time I thought about cock sucking."

"You imagined you were the boy with the old man?"

"Yeah."

"But he fucked the boy up the ass."

"I wonder how that would feel."

"To the boy or the old man?"

He shrugged.  "Both, I guess."

"You want me to play the old man, don't you?"

"Part of it, like I did you."  He backed away, sat down on his own rock
and spread his legs wide apart.  His dick poked up in the air like a 
little arrow.  Or a snake head.

I knelt down in front of him.  I wanted to do it, but ...  I said, "How
did it taste?"

"What?  Your dick?"  He shrugged.  "Like a dick, I guess.  That stuff 
under the skin is sort of bitter at first, but it goes away.  It's not 
bad, if that worries you."

"You didn't taste piss?"

"Not to notice."

I leaned forward, kissed the tip and said with a grin, "Now I'm Jane."

"I want more than Jane."

The fuschia head of his dick was right under my nose, smelling like 
peanuts, but I hesitated.  He had sucked me to unmatched pleasure and I
had no desire to withhold it from him.  Still ...

I took his dick in my hand and worked the skin.  It felt exactly like 
mine, even his balls when I squeezed them.  A couple years ago we had 
done that in exploration, with no sexual overtone.  Now it was 
different, as if I could sense what he was feeling.  I wondered how it 
had seemed to Jane.

I looked up at him.  "Jane could suck you."

"She ain't here."

"Why didn't she do it yesterday?  You were alone with her."

"You're right."  He looked away.  "She would have, but I didn't let 
her."

"Didn't let her?"  I laughed.  "You dummy!"

"You think I don't know it?  I didn't understand what she was doing.  
When she opened her mouth, all I could see was sharp teeth."

He actually blushed.  He'd been chicken!  But I understood perfectly.  
At age eleven girls are strange and unpredictable creatures, not known 
for benevolence to boys.

I leaned forward and slurped up his whole dick, stopping only when my 
nose hit the skin above it.  It tickled the back of my throat but wasn't
long enough to gag.  He twitched when I closed my lips.

"Oh god!" he breathed, adding, "Lick the knob," when I just knelt there,
feeling a guilty thrill.  I had a dick in my mouth!

My lips had pushed the skin back, exposing the whole end.  I tasted the
bitterness he had mentioned but was pleased at the smooth texture, like
a bubble sucked in the skin of a balloon.  A tangy aroma teased my nose
as I began to bob my head.  I wondered if it was piss.

"Oh god, that's good!" he exclaimed with a shudder.  "Lick harder!"

So I worked my tongue fast.  He began to grunt and cuss.  "Oh fuck, oh 
fuck!  Don't stop.  Whatever you do, don't stop!  Yaa-aa-a!"

Don't stop, he'd said.  Then why did he push my head back?  He took his
dick in his fist and worked the skin like he had before.  But he soon 
quit, drew his knees together and leaned over them.  "God damn, Corey, 
that's even better than jacking!"

"Then why are you cussing?"

"Can't help it."  He grinned up at me and guessed, "You really wanted to
suck it, didn't you."

"Did you come?"

"Oh, yeah, you better believe it!  And I'll tell you, it beats a fist 
all to pieces."

"A fist?"

He gave me a puzzled look.  I was still kneeling before him.  He reached
forward, grabbed my dick and began to slip the skin as he had done his 
own.  "Like this," he said.  Once again I felt the unique thrill.  So a
mouth wasn't the only way!

I looked at his working hand.  "What do you call doing that?"

"Jacking off.  I can't believe you never heard of it."

I had heard the expression but no one ever told me what it meant.  Until
now.  I had just learned something very important.

I was curious.  "How'd you learn about it?"

"Hugh Mack showed me."

"Really?  Did he suck you?"

"Oh, no.  We didn't talk about that.  Like I said, it was Jane's fuck 
books that gave me that idea."

"How did Hugh Mack show you?"

Jack giggled.  "Mr. Curiosity!"

"Why shouldn't I know?  Unless ...  Did you suck his dick?"

Jack grimaced.  "I told you: we didn't even mention cocksucking."  He 
added with a little grin, "What he did was let me jack him off.  And it
was really _off_!  He shot white stuff out in the air like a water 
pistol."

"Jizz?"

"He called it _come_."

"And he jacked you too, right?"

"Well, yeah, when he showed me how."

"Did you come?"

"Yeah.  It was my first time."  He giggled.  "Sure not my last!  But 
your mouth really beats a fist.  That was your first time just now, 
wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Lucky devil, your first one was in somebody's mouth!"

"It's better than this?" I said wonderingly.

While we talked I had been stroking my cock.  The thrills were already 
almost continuous.  Thinking about that really makes me understand 
Shaw's point that youth is wasted on the young.  Here I was coming again
not 15 minutes after my first one.

He was right, I noticed: his mouth was better than my fist.  I recalled
his tongue rubbing under my dick head.  Was that the reason?  That and 
the hot wetness and -- even as a kid I understood it -- the perverted 
nature of your piss-pipe stuck in somebody's face.

I sat back on the ground, leaning against a rock, and saw that he was 
watching me with a half smile.  He had dropped his own cock, which 
sagged over his balls, maybe half-hard still.

He said, "You think now you'll like your fist better than my mouth?"

I had already considered that.  "No, I won't.  Mouths are best."  A new
idea popped up.  "Let's try it with Jane's mouth."

"I'll bet she'd do it."  He thought about it and grinned.  "Sucking is 
just deep kissing."

"Right.  When've you got to give those books back?"

"Tomorrow."

"Okay.  Let me go with you."

He frowned.  "I don't mind, but two of us might scare her off."

"I can hang back and sort of stumble on you."

"That might work."  He cocked his head at me.  "But we don't have to 
wait for Jane."

"You know somebody else?"

"Me.  And you."

I shook my head, "Jack, we gotta be careful.  We can't take the chance 
that anybody finds out what we're doing."

One of life's little coincidences occurred just at that moment.  We 
heard kids hollering to each other above us in the woods.

"Shit!" we cried in unison, jumped to our feet and snatched underpants 
and shorts up around our waists.  Barely in time.

Jarvis Denton, a Sixth Grader, came around a tree and stopped, staring 
at us.  "Well, look who's here!" he said loudly.  "What're you twerps up
to?"

What indeed!  "We heard a snake was in the brook."  Two snakes, I 
thought, now in our britches and shrinking fast.

"A snake!  Did you find it?"

"No, we didn't.  Now we're going home."

"That's a good idea.  You might get hurt trying to keep up with us."

As he spoke three other Sixth Graders emerged from the bushes.  Of the 
same mind, Jack and I darted together around the farthest bush and ran 
up the hill.  They got noisy behind us but no one hollered after us.

Again at the path and pausing for breath, I said, "That was close."

"Yeah," Jack agreed.  He looked at me wistfully.  "But ... Corey ..."

I knew what he wanted.  My dick was still tingling too.  I wanted the 
same thing.  "Sleep over at my house tonight.  Think your Mom will let 
you?"

"She might."  His eyes brightened.  "Especially if I hurry up and rake 
the leaves."


* * *


Of course when I got home, my first move was to rush to my bedroom, 
shuck off both sets of shorts, leap onto the bed and start jacking my 
cock.  It was thrilling pretty good when the Blabbermouth threw open my
non-lockable door.  I rolled off the bed but not before she saw my naked
bottom and pumping hand.  She rushed around the bed and stared down at 
me while I covered my hard-on with both hands.

"What in the world are you doing, Corey?"

"Scratching," was the best I could find to say.

Her eyes widened.  "Does it itch that bad?"

"Otherwise I wouldn't be scratching.  Get out of here before I tell 
Mamma you came in my room without knocking."

She sneered.  "Go ahead, tell her and I'll tell about your itching 
privates."  She cocked her head.  "Maybe I should tell her anyway, if 
it's that bad.  Let me see if you have a rash."

"I don't have a rash.  Get on out!"

Her eyes were flinty.  "Not until you show me."

"What did you come in here for anyway?"

"To borrow some paper for my homework.  I've been waiting for you to get
home.  What took you so long?"

So I got up, unstrapped my books and unclipped a few sheets of ruled 
paper.  I made no attempt to conceal my still hard dick and of course 
her eyes followed it around the room.

"Corey," she said in almost a whisper, "is something wrong with your 
thing?"

"Of course not."

"But it's all swollen up."

"How would you know that?" I said, stepping into my pants.

"I got a glimpse last summer when you were changing."

"Spying on me, were you?"

"It was an accident."

"I'll bet."  Now with my nakedness concealed, I faced her with hands on
hips.  "Jennifer, this is getting out of hand.  I think we both ought to
forget this afternoon."

"Do I get to keep the paper?"

"Yeah, sure, if you keep your mouth shut."

"My lips are sealed."

Suddenly I thought of _her_ lips around my cock -- tempting if I could 
talk her into it, but very hazardous.

She paused at the door and said with a wise-looking grin, "Does it 
really itch, Corey?"

She was almost 13, nearly two years older than I.  I wondered if she 
knew about jacking off.  I wondered if girls do it.  And how, if they 
did.  Fortunately, before I could ask any of that, she giggled and left,
leaving the door open.

Okay.  I turned my study desk around.  It had a vanity panel that 
prevented anyone in front from seeing under it.  With pants shoved down
to my knees, I plopped into the chair behind it and resumed playing with
my new toy.  Soon I enjoyed my third orgasm.  Blabbermouth did not 
reappear.

God, those first ones were wonderful!  It's probably a damn good thing 
adults can't string 'em out like kids, else nobody would get any work 
done.  I've noticed that women can do it once you get 'em started.  
Again it's probably a good thing they're so hard to start.

I had to let it alone when I discovered that you can't whip up another 
come immediately after the last one.  Later I proved that in fact you 
can, but you have to work too hard for it.

At last I realized what Blabbermouth's invasion portended.  If Jack and
I were going to suck cocks in my bed tonight, I had to find someway to 
lock the door.  Ideas came fast in those days.  Looking at my desk, the
answer popped right up.  Jack and I would put it in front of the door.

Which is what we did as soon as Mom sent us to bed.  Then we grinned at
each other, turned out the light and tore off our clothes.  Going to one
knee, I said, "I'll do you first."

Jack was having ideas too.  "Let's do it together."

"How?"

Of course that was simple.  We arranged ourselves on the bed in the 
classic sideways 69 and started sucking with a will.  He was already 
hard and so was I.  He came off first while making curious humming 
sounds.  He backed his hips away and spat out my dick.

"Hey!" I whispered loudly.  "Keep going!  I'm almost there."

"I want to try something that I thought of at home."

"While you were jacking off."

He giggled.  "Just like you.  No.  When you come, don't pull it out.  
Just freeze.  I think you'll like what happens next."

"What's that?"

"You'll see."

He reslurped me and in half a minute I was coming.  I froze as he had 
directed.  He kept sucking for maybe half of the declining thrills, but
when the too-much point arrived, he held his mouth perfectly still.  I 
could stand that!  When my dick stopped pulsing, he increased the 
suction very gently.  The fading thrills lasted a lot longer.

"How was that?" he asked when I relaxed.

"The greatest yet.  I know what you did.  I'll do it to you."

"Do it now.  I'm still hard."

My hand found his dick.  My mouth followed and I sucked him lightly.  He
did the same to me.  The feeling was nice but not at all sharp.  We kept
it up for a long time.  I think I fell asleep with his dick in my mouth.

At first light we awoke and resumed sucking.  Very briefly.  Our 
bladders were full, of course, and neither of us liked the flavor of 
piss.


* * *


An hour after school we met Jane in the woods behind her house.  She was
there before us.  I hung back when we saw her but Jack motioned for me 
to join them.  As I approached, he said, "I told her you'll keep your 
mouth shut."

She laughed.  "Unless he's sucking a dick?"

I glared at him.  "_Who's_ mouth has been open!"

He cried, "Shut up, you dumb ass."

She bent over from laughing.  I realized I had merely confirmed her 
supposition.

She had unkempt red hair.  Are all red-haired women hot numbers?  This 
one was about eleven, our age, in our school class, not yet fully a 
woman, and although her family was poverty-stricken, she was no dumb 
bunny.  She wore a faded shirt too large for her and threadbare jeans 
with the knees out, at a time when respectable girls wore skirts.

Now she grinned at me.  "Did you like what the old man did to the boy?"

I listened carefully but could hear only good humor in her voice.

Jack said, "What we like is what the girls did to both of them."

She studied him.  "And what Popeye did to Olive Oyl?"

I had to demur.  "Nobody's dick is that big!"

"Too bad.  You bring my books?"

Jack unstrapped his geography and produced the fuck books.  She put them
in a paper bag and grinned.  "What'd you think of 'em?"

I said, "We liked them.  Where'd you get 'em?"

"From some very interesting guys."  She cocked her head at Jack.  "They
want to meet you."

"Meet me?  What for?"

"To have fun."

I had a suspicion.  "Like the old man and the boy?"

She looked at me but didn't answer.  Jack picked it up.  "Like the old 
man and the boy?"

"Like the girls too," she said to him.

"Are you like the girls?" I asked.  We had no doubt which girls were 
being referenced.

She said, still looking at Jack, "I can do everything they could."

That was a lot.  With the help of man and boy they had even demonstrated
a Greek sandwich.  But I thought she was putting on.

I bored in.  "You'll suck our dicks?"

She took Jack's hand, said, "Come on," and led him deeper into the 
woods.  It never occurred to me that she might want to exclude me.  I 
followed them.

We came to a cool little grassy clearing.  "This is my favorite place,"
she said.  "Sit for a while."

So we sat down in the grass on either side of her.  She still held 
Jack's hand but said to me, "Some things are more fun than cocksucking."

I couldn't imagine what.  Neither could Jack.  He said, "No way!"

"I'll show you."  She shucked her shoes, wiggled out of her jeans, threw
off the oversize shirt and sat staring at Jack.  "Your turn."

I said, "What if somebody comes along?"

"Nobody knows we're here.  I already saw what you got, Jack.  What are 
you waiting for?"

So he stripped too.  When he did, I was quick to follow.  The air felt 
cool but was warm enough.  His dick was sticking straight out.  I pumped
mine a little, wondering what was next.

She laughed at him.  "I was gonna suck your cock hard."  She extended 
her hand.  "Come here and get on top."

As he crawled over her, she spat in her hand, caught his dick and guided
it.  I stooped down between their legs and saw it go right into her 
hairless slit, which opened up around it.  His tight little ball sack 
was lying right over her asshole.

"Now fuck me," she said.  Their hips began to move.

I knelt beside them.  So this was fucking!  Dimples were coming and 
going in Jack's ass cheeks.  I stroked my tingling dick but slowed down
when the thrill started.

Before long Jack's back arched and he froze.  It seemed to me he was 
trying to stick his cock through her and out her mouth, like Popeye with
Olive Oyl.  He grunted several times and rolled off her onto his back.
She lay with her scabby knees drawn up, pussy gaping a little.  It 
looked wet.

Her eyes sought mine with real purpose for the first time.  "Your turn,"
she said, "but first do me a favor.  You'll like it after you get 
started."

I had already dropped to my knees in front of her.  "What favor?"

"Lick my pussy."

The old man had licked all three pussies in the comics and claimed they
tasted like honey, which I had taken the liberty to doubt.  The boy had
finally been talked into it, but the old man was sucking his dick the 
whole time.

Jack looked to be out for the count, so it was up to me.  Was a pussy 
worse than a dick in your mouth?  Huh!  How could you get one _in_ it?

So I leaned down and wiggled her slit with a tentative tongue.  I 
smelled piss and something hot.

She said, "Do it harder.  I've already got started."

So I bore down.  My tongue delved into rolls of flesh.  She said, "At 
the top.  Do it at the top."

I understand now that of course she wanted her clitoris stimulated.  A 
tongue can recognize one as it stiffens under attack.  I went to town on
hers.  Before long she squealed and closed her thighs on my ears.  
Something about it -- the strange intimacy, the odor -- made my dick so
hard it almost hurt.

She was pulling my hair.  I raised my head.  Her lips were drawn back 
over her teeth.  "Fuck me, damn it!" she ordered.

I only had to fall forward onto her.  I think my dick slipped into her 
unguided.  Maybe the upward curve helped.  Her pussy gripped me almost 
tight as my fist.  She was right.  It beat even a sucking mouth.

I started coming almost right away and discovered why Jack had arched 
his back.  If I could have, I would have shoved my dickhead up into her
throat also!

In reconstructing that scene, which is as plain in my memory now, 60 
years later, as if it were yesterday, I think Jack had aroused her but 
like most boys was much too quick.  From the experience with her "guys"
she knew what to do.  She started coming under my tongue and finished it
around my cock.  As for me, that may have been the strongest single 
climax of my life, despite its dryness.  I knew a woman years later who
could make me let them build up to what she called a "Vesuvius 
eruption," but that's another story.

Jack wanted to lick her pussy.  "Oh yeah!" she said with a happy grin.
It was his turn to slurp.  Panting, I lay watching them, stroking my 
dick.  She began to squeal as she had for me.  Her thighs closed again.
Soon she was pulling his hair.  Up he climbed and started fucking.  He 
was at it longer this time, several minutes, I think.  She humped and 
squealed the whole time.  I watched her with mounting astonishment.  Was
she _coming_ over and over?

I've often wondered if all eleven-year-old girls have such a limitless 
sexual capacity.  Why not?  Many teenage girls have exhibited it, and by
analogy, if a prepubescent boy can jerk off twice as often as a man, why
can't little girls have orgasms as continual as a woman?  Did you ever 
hear of the sleepovers that girls throw, sometimes very young ones, 
where they lie around on the carpet, fingering themselves madly, in 
indulgence of "that feeling?"  But I digress.

When he rolled off, I was ready to go again, but she said sorrowfully, 
"I'd love it, Corey, but I can't.  You're first the next time.  Jack, 
when can you go with me to meet my guys?"

She was pulling her clothes back on.  Jack thought a minute.  "How about
Saturday afternoon?  Corey and me always go to the movies."

"Just you at first."

He looked at me.  "Would you get mad?"

Of course I had to say no, but I was already jealous.

We were quiet on the way home.  In front of his house, he said, "Can you
spend tonight with me?"

But I was pussy struck.  "You think cocksucking is as good as fucking?"

He looked at me sideways.  "We could fuck."

His dick up my ass?  My dick in a shithole?  After Jane's silken pussy 
both ideas were icky.  If he'd mentioned either the night before, I'm 
sure I'd've been game.

Instead I said, "Tell me what happens with Jane's guys."  It was Friday;
he would know in 24 hours.

"Sure.  See you later, then."

But we didn't see each other again, not in the same way.  He didn't show
on Sunday.  When I finally cornered him at school, he said, "Her guys 
ain't kids, Corey."

"What happened?"

He hesitated, finally shook his head.  "I can't talk about it."

"'Can't talk about it!'  Why not?"

"They'd kill me.  And I ain't kidding."

He and I had been bosom buddies for five years, but that was end of our
friendship, probably because my burning curiosity bugged him too much.
And he really was afraid of getting snuffed.  Oh, we were pleasant 
enough when we met, but he moved to a desk across the schoolroom from 
me.  We ceased to attend parties together.  Additional warm nights of 
cocksucking excitement were notable for their absence.

But that was all right.  With my new sexual expertise I was able to talk
several girls into standing in for Jack over the forthcoming years.


* * *


"Ruined by a comic book, eh?" mused Don with a grin.  "Doesn't sound too
ruinous."

"Doesn't it?"  Corey grinned in return.  "How many queers get their 
start at age eleven?"

"Didn't I see your daughters here last week?  Or did you adopt them?"

"No, they're the real thing.  Or so my wife assures me."

"Well, then you're not a queer.  Did you ever have another gay 
experience?"

Corey shrugged.  "A fling in college.  But it wasn't very gay.  I 
discovered I don't like men to get that close."

"The same here.  What happened to Jack?"

Corey nodded.  "There's a bit more to his story.  The state cops made a
big deal about busting a pedo ring several years after he and I parted.
It was thoroughly written-up with all the euphemisms.  Jack and Jane 
were ringleaders.  They both went to prison.  Jane, a true 'ugly 
duckling,' turned out to be a beautiful woman.  I heard she fucked her 
way out of trouble and married a police commissioner.

"Used to be a saying, '16 will get you 40,' referring to years of age 
and years in the slammer.  It applied to Jack."

Don thought it over.  "You never heard if Jack learned to love sucking 
full-sized cocks?"

Corey grinned reminiscently.  "No, but I know he relished at least one 
little 'un."


*END*
Contact Kellis: kellis@dhp.com

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