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From: Incest Man <familyincestfamilyincest@yahoo.com>
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Subject: "Veronica" CHAPTER FOUR
Date: Thu, 04 Jan 2007 15:38:14 -0800
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===================
http://www.incesttabooo.com/mar104.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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