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From: Incest Man <familyincestfamilyincest@yahoo.com>
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Subject: "Veronica" Chapter 4
Date: Tue, 14 Feb 2006 10:51:07 -0800
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http://www.incesttabooo.com/veronica.html
Veronica
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. 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 25 inches at the bust.]
The problem was, I wasn't growing taller or wider, either. I was only
about 4-foot-5 and my waist was still 19 inches and my hips were just
about 24 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 the two girls always getting hit on by high school kids.
Dana was tall -- about 5-foot-3 or -4 -- for her age 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 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.
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, and my sister's lovely tongue and
fingers notwithstanding, there was no substitute for the real thing.
We were having a little bit of Indian summer, so the Saturday night in
Thanksgiving weekend, we sneaked into the lot and into one of the
buses in the back. I stripped us both to the waist -- from the ankles
-- and went to work. Sure as a clock, as soon as he got between my
legs, and I grabbed his dick, he came all over the place. I mean, on
the bus seat, on my legs, on my cunt, my belly -- everywhere. And
stayed hard. Mostly.
Fine, I thought, and proceeded with my plan. I stroked him a little,
my hand all slippery with his cum, and when he was really hard again,
lined up his cock with my pussy. And he came again -- just like
before. Gobs everywhere.
And stayed mostly hard.
I told him, No problem; we're gong to lick this thing. And then I did
just what I said and got down and started licking him.
He got stiff as steel and came in my mouth. I thought I'd drown.
Surely, I thought, after cumming that much three times in 20minutes,
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 and him 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 sore 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 was 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, Darlene, was a lot like me in some ways. Darlene 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! Darlene 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 13. She'd done it when she was just 12, with a bunch of
her brother's friends.
Her brother, Tod, was a real asshole. He was 15 then. A real
blockhead. About 6-foot-2, maybe 220 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 Darlene when she was nine. Raping her
is more like it. If Darlene was twisted, Tod was why. Sometimes I
wondered if she didn't provoke...No. I don't think any nine-year-old
girl knows enough to do that. And I think Darlene may have been a
little off, y'know?
Anyhow, Darlene 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 besides, they had a finished basement
with a pool table and stuff, and her folks were away a lot. Van
followed 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. Darlene 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. Darlene
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. Darlene 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
Darlene 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.
Darlene 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 70 degrees, but there was a breeze. I wore a light
windbreaker and cutoffs that had faded and shrunk all soft to fit snug
on my butt. Under the windbreaker I was wearing a thin tanktop and
nothing else. I rang the bell. He answered, wearing a pair of jeans
and a sport shirt. The jeans were nicely filled.
He didn't recognize me through the screen door for a moment, then he
smiled. "Hello. You're Marie, aren't you? What can I do for you?"
"Uncle Van said you know cabinet-making, and I wanted to ask you about
it. Can I come in?"
He held the door for me and asked if I'd like a Coke or some juice,
and I said water would be dandy. While he fetched it, I looked around
the living room.
Roger's house was identical in layout to Van and Irene's, but where my
uncle's house was decorated to look like an Italian director's idea of
a swinging Playboy pad -- all shag rugs and red drapes and such --
Roger's looked like one of those model rooms they set up in furniture
stores. And everything was spotlessly, shining clean. There was a
whole bookcase full of books. I looked them over: Reader's Digest
Condensed versions. Ycccch. But at least he read books.
He returned, water in hand. I unzipped my windbreaker about halfway
and thanked him.
"I want to put a bookcase in my room -- not real big, just about this
high -- " I held my hand even with my breasts. "-- and about this wide
--" I held my arms wide apart. This caused the windbreaker to part and
my breasts to heave up into sight within the tanktop. "Do I need a lot
of power tools for that, or can I just use a handsaw 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 credenza. And he was right: It was easy and neat, not at
all messy, if you knew what you were doing.
That 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. On purpose.
[Well, okay, so it wasn't entirely on purpose. I'd never played
before. Now, do you want to talk about me being a klutz or about what
happened? Okay.]
"Here," he said, moving around the table to stand behind me.
"Hold on." I removed the windbreaker in the warm room. Now my tits
were exposed against the tanktop. 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 trying stiffly 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 butt. 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, 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. I turned within his arms. "I
know what I'm doing." I smiled up at him. "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 largest I'd
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 wood inside a thin rubber covering.
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 started to pour out of him in powerful
streams 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 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, 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 off
the banquette. 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 cunt was aimed up at
the ceiling. Now 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. 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 then I couldn't stop, either. 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. At
some point 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 even 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. It wasn't comfortable, but
it didn't hurt, either. And 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, Roger, give me mooooore," I moaned. He
moved back and forth a little, bit by bit 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
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 almost down 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. 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 was moving 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, because I remember everything
drifting away when I felt his fat cock swell even more and then jerk,
spewing hot wetness far, far inside me as 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 out
with an 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, it was just 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. The he stood, scooped me in his arms and lay me down on one of
the cushioned banquets. 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 and 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 of 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. "Oh. 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 Darlene 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
that 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?"
"More embarrassed at being caught than hurt -- Oh, I see what you
mean. No, Brenda always liked them big -- the bigger the better."
I shook my head slowly. "Darlene 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?"
"Darlene does. I mean, Tod raped her when she was nine."
He looked horrified. "No wonder she's a little...odd. He stuck that
thing in her when she was nine?" He whistled. "Poor kid."
I stood. "I better get going. I want to do this again."
He shook his head. "Not a good idea."
"But you liked it -- "
"Maybe too much. I could get addicted to little girls and there are
very, very few as mature and sensible and headstrong as you are,
Marie."
"I'm out here a lot, you know."
He stood and put his arm around my shoulders, leading me to the door.
"We'll see -- but no promises...even though I want to at least as much
as you do."
I put my hand on the hard bar of flesh at the crotch of his jeans and
squeezed and giggled. "I know you do."
It took maybe 30 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.
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