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Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
Author: Explorer
Title: Edward's Children
Summary: Edward's encounters with the 7 yo daughter of a friend awakens
his earliest memories of sexual awareness and triggers his desire to
explore sexual relations with pre-teen and pre-school girls.
Keywords: Mg ped / pedo pre-teen pre-school inc oral anal ws
This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2006. Please don't remove
the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post
freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial
sites.
The story contains explicit, detailed, sexual content. All acts
performed by all characters in the story are consensual and nobody is
harmed or hurt in any way. Please do not continue if you are offended.
EDWARD'S CHILDREN By Edward Cunningham
Chapter 1 SARAH GEORGE AND AMY
Chapter 2 SUJA INTRODUCES TUTI
Chapter 3 TUTI CAUGHT STEALING
Chapter 4 DISCOVERING SARAH'S FANTASIES
Chapter 5 TUTI'S PERIODS AND PERSONAL HYGIENE
Chapter 6 TUTI STARTS SCHOOL
Chapter 7 AMY ENTRUSTED TO THE CARE OF UNCLE EDDIE
Chapter 8 THE STORY OF THE MAGIC BUTTON
Chapter 9 AMY TELLS HER SECRETS
Chapter 10 TUTI ESCAPES A FORCED MARRIAGE
Chapter 11 EXPLORING WITH AMY 12 MEETING KATY'S MOM
Chapter 13 AMY AND KATY STAY-OVER
Chapter 14 JENNY AND JENNY
Chapter 15 SLEEPING WITH LISA
Chapter 16 EDDIE REACHES NEW DEPTHS OF DEPRAVITY
Chapter 17 EDDIE'S OFFERED A JOB IN THE PORN BUSINESS
Chapter 18 EDDIE AND JENNY, PARTNER IN CRIME
Chapter 19 MORE OF JO AND HER KIDS
Chapter 20 THE DERWYDD (CULT / COMMUNE)
Chapter 21 Complications
Chapter 22 JENNY JOINS THE CULT
Chapter 1. SARAH
GEORGE AND AMY
My name's Edward Cunningham. I work in the petrochemical industry. My
job takes me to different countries. I've always considered myself a
normal heterosexual male. In fact, years back, I used to say to myself
that I was lucky not to be cursed with a need to dress up in rubber or whip
myself to get my rocks off. I'd done all the usual kinky stuff that nine
out of ten people do and there was, and still is, sufficient diversity in
those things to keep me happy. That all changed when I met a little girl
some years back. I was working in Indonesia at the time. She is the
daughter of friends and she was two years old when we first met. Her dad,
George was an engineer and he'd joined the company bringing his wife Sarah
and their daughter, Amy, to Indonesia with him.
I'd been with the company for several years and in Jakarta for five
years prior to George's arrival. I was there with my wife Pam. Pam and I
had married young, me 20, she 19, and our children were both at boarding
school in the UK.
George and Sarah had also married young but for career reasons had put
off having children. So although there was a big difference in the age of
our children, there was less than 5 years between us.
Pam and I were golfers, George and Sarah had recently started playing
golf and so that common interest started our friendship. George and I
teamed up for 'better ball' competitions; our high / low combination
winning us many prizes.
The expatriate life style is work hard, play hard. We were very much in
the deep end of the social set. We burnt the candle at both ends; Monday
to Friday was boys' night out, drinking at the golf club. Weekends was
barbecues and dinners which also involved much singing and dancing.
Sarah was a liberated woman and although she had taken a break from her
career as a lawyer after the birth of Amy, she was not going to let that
get in the way of her doing exactly what she wanted to do. She insisted
that George shared the chores including looking after Amy.
That often meant that George had to either stay at home with Amy or
brought her with him when we played golf. As soon as she was out of
nappies he started bringing her along. We'd take a cart and she would sit
on the drivers lap. After the game we'd sit outside and Amy would run
around or play with her dolls whilst we had a drink.
That was our life and Amy grew up a part of it. She grew up in the
company of adults, often male only and often whilst they were drinking
dancing and generally having a good time.
Amy was a great kid, she was fun, mischievous, always wanting to try
anything, she was one of the boys. I know it sounds bizarre, but you could
have a group of guys stood in circle drinking and talking and she be there
amongst us and chipping her bit in like one of the boys. I don't mean she
was able to discuss the political situation in the far east but she could
burp and fart like anyone of us and she did. She would also insist on
having a beer and not a soft drink. Her dad had to get the bar staff to
water down a bottle of beer and get the waitress to serve her and even then
she'd sometimes test it against others to see if it had been watered down.
At some point in time I started looking at Amy as more than just a
child. I can't recall when that was, It may have been when she started
wriggling on my lap whilst I was driving the golf cart. It may have been
the mischievous look on her face as she looked at me looking at her whilst
she squatted to do a piddle alongside the cart. It may have been when she
stood in front of me dripping wet from the pool chattering away whilst
unconsciously scratching her 'front bottom' as she called it. It may have
been when she first grabbed my dick (if she wasn't getting attention or was
feeling naughty she'd punch you in the nuts). I can recall one time when
she'd been swimming and had taken her bathing suit off and was wrapped in a
towel. She was chattering away to me holding the towel across her and she
raised her hands to rub her eyes and in doing so the towel opened and
exposed that puffy little 'front bottom'. She was totally unaware that it
was exposed and stayed exposed after she'd finished wiping her eyes and
continued to chatter. She must have been about three or four years old at
the time but that image burned itself into my head.
I can see it now as clearly as I saw it then, so white and podgy. The
flesh folding in to form a simple black line in the centre of a 'V'. When
I think about what I was looking at it's very difficult to explain why it
caused the little guy in my pants to turn from putty to steel. She was
chattering away and I was squirming trying to make room for my dick which
had a mind of it's own. That mind, that 'little head', took control of my
body; it took control of all my body's resources and channelled them into a
few inches of flesh.
Finally, her mother called her and she ran off. I went to the toilets
and I don't think I reached a dozen stroke before the little guy had
liquidised my whole inside and ejected it at speed through the end of a
very swollen purple head.
That was it; I was hooked. I couldn't count the number of times, over
the proceeding months that I'd jacked off to that sight. I started
dreaming about her. Of course the dreams revealed what I wanted to do,
what turned me on. Strangely I found myself getting as much satisfaction
from dreaming of kissing her lips as I did from kissing her pussy. My
dreams were never detailed enough to explain how I got to the stage of
being intimate. They usually started and ended with the intimacy.
During those early days I would wake before any physical contact with
any of her body below the waist. I would wake out of fear. I wanted so
much to stick my tongue between those legs and something in my brain
wouldn't let me do it because it knew that if I did I would be caught. My
head was conditioned to the rules and culture of my society and my dread of
being caught and the consequences of that. It took me months to condition
myself to believing it was not wrong; it was loving and beautiful.
Finally, in a dream, my tongue parted those soft white folds and wriggled
its way into that tight dark place. That also woke me up but this time I
also had a white sticky mess between me and the sheets.
I wanted to kiss her lips. I wanted our tongues to touch and slide
across each other kissing deeply like two people hungry for the intimacy
that follows those kisses. I wanted to smell her hair, caress and stroke
her. I wanted explore, with her, every part of her body. I wanted to take
her on a trip of discovery, to open doors to hidden secrets. I wracked my
brains on how I could achieve this and more importantly, how I could
achieve it and get away with it.
Amy was always asking whether she could sleep over with us. I am sure
she asked for no other reason than the novelty of sleeping somewhere
different and the possibility of being spoiled. I also wanted her to sleep
over, but I knew If I pursued it with any enthusiasm someone would smell a
rat. She would ask us all, trying to find one of us that would support her
suggestion. I would always say, "of course you can sleepover, sweetheart."
My wife would always say something neutral not wanting to offend our
friends, but clearly not keen on the idea. Her mother and father would
ignore her until she pestered them beyond being ignored and then they would
scream at her.
On one occasion I said to her "Of course you can sweetheart, but I am
sure your mommy and daddy would like you to sleep at their house so they
can play with you." In her innocence she said, "No they don't. They don't
like me." I said, "Of course they do princess, they love you." She said,
"No they don't, they don't like me, they told me so." I pulled her to me
and gave her a hug with my right hand cupping her bottom. Oh, how soft
that bottom was! I can't think of anything in the world that feels as soft
and round and warm as that little bottom. I would have been happy just to
have caressed those small globes for the rest of my life.
The fact was that her parents did love her, but she was in the way of
their pursuit of a serious social life. They'd had her purely because her
mother thought it was the right time career-wise. The kid was dragged from
one adult social event to the next. George and Sarah were always looking
to dump the kid somewhere. My problem was that we were always with them at
every social event so there was no way my wife was going home to baby sit
their kid.
I can recall an occasion when a bunch of us were going on from the golf
club to a BBQ at a friend's house and Amy was clearly tired. My wife
suggested they leave her with the maid. I overheard Sarah telling Pam how
their maid had a boyfriend, in fact a series of boyfriends, and Amy had
told them stories of things she'd seen the maid and the boyfriend doing.
"Like what?" Pam asked. "She said she saw Anna (the maid) sucking Acha's
widgy," Sarah said. "It's not that we're too worried about her getting an
early education we're just a little worried that one of the boyfriends
might have Amy joining in!"
George and Sarah not only did not limit their social life because of the
kid, they also seemed indifferent to her early exposure to sex. I'd noted
this on the golf course, if George wanted a piss he would stand against the
closest tree and do it, oblivious to Amy's presence.
Like all kids, she was curious and would follow and stand inches from
his dick watching the flow, in awe at the miracle of producing water from
nowhere. Similarly if she wanted a piss George would tell her to do it
behind the cart or behind the nearest tree. Amy was still at that age
where she hadn't progressed past 'concrete thinking' (see Piaget's study of
children's learning development). If she couldn't see you, you didn't
exist. So although she was careful to take a piss out of the view of
people in front of her, she couldn't see the people behind her, so they
just didn't exist. She also spent most of the pissing time with her head
craning forward and down, marvelling at the wonder of the fountain erupting
from her body. For my own part if I had the luck to be behind her she
sometimes craned her head so far forward that her bottom raised up and her
cheeks opened giving me a great view of her little pink rosebud back bottom
and hint of the front bottom.
These incidents, the occasional squeeze of her bottom whilst I was
carrying her, and her wriggling on my dick whilst I drove the golf cart
with her at the wheel, was the nearest I was getting to my goal. That
said, it was enough for my dreams and enough to give me many innocent and
pleasurable moments alone with my right hand, the little guy and my
memories.
Luckily for me, the pissing thing gave me much erotic pleasure, it
stirred something deep inside me. I wonder how much early events colour
our particular sexual preferences. I don't know but I do know that my
first sexual event was when I was a very young boy, maybe eight or seven. I
was at school walking along a corridor when a new girl asked me where the
toilets were. She was maybe a year younger. For some mischievous reason,
I don't know why but I directed her to the boys' toilet. I showed her in
and I said "That's for weeing," pointing at the urinal. She stood there
with her finger in her mouth. She'd obviously never used a urinal before
maybe never seen a urinal before.
I said "Do you know what to do?" She shook her head. I walked up to the
urinal got out the little guy and commenced to impress her by squirting
urine from side to side and up and down. She stepped up to the urinal
dropped her little white cotton panties to the floor squeezed herself up as
close as possible so that the bottom of the urinal was between her legs and
her little pussy was over the protruding porcelain and with a swishhhhh the
amber flow hit the bottom with such force that it bounced back up and hit
the back plate.
I stood there transfixed by the sight. I am sure, at that age, I didn't
know what sex was but I knew that I was witnessing something secret, a
forbidden fruit and I liked what I saw. She finished, hobbled over to the
toilet booths, pulled off a strip of toilet paper, wiped the urine from her
cunnie, pulled up the cotton panties giving me a great view of her arse and
off out the door. I never saw her again but I can see her now as clearly
as I saw her then. I think that event turned me onto pissing and arses.
Thank God she wasn't wearing a rubber suit and carrying a whip!
Again whilst we're talking 'w.s'., at another point in time, I was at
another BBQ when I went inside the house looking for the toilets. I found
them, the door was open and there, sitting on the toilet, was Amy. Her
legs swinging over the side and her head buried between them watching the
flow. I stood there, taking in the sight when she looked up and saw me. I
grabbed my crutch hopped from foot to foot and said "Quickly! I need to
go!"
Recognising the urgency, she said, "OK, I've finished now," and grabbing
a handful of toilet paper she wiped herself from front to back. That's the
first time I'd seen a girl wipe from front to back and at the time it
struck me as unusual. Now I can see it makes sense otherwise a girl might
end up with a pussy full of shit. She jumped down giving me momentary
sight of the object of my desire before covering it in the ubiquitous white
cotton panties. She walked over to the sink and washed her hands whilst I
positioned myself, got my dick out and pointed it at the un-flushed golden
liquid in the bowl. Fear put a clamp on my urethra like a vice. She
walked off, glancing back to check out what was happening over the bowl. I
waved my dick up and down like a flag hoping to impress her. That was it.
She was gone. That's the way it was, month after month. My game plan was
to prepare her for the day when I had an opportunity to get inside those
panties. Until that day arrived all I could do was desensitise her to the
sight of my dick and the inconsequence of me seeing her bits.
In between the odd sighting of naked flesh, tight panties and the
occasional feel I spent hours planning. Planning what to do and how to do
it if the opportunity presented itself. I didn't plan in the expectation
that I would ever get the opportunity I planned because it was thrilling to
postulate the possibilities. Someone once said that the joy of sex is nine
tenths imagination and one tenth reality. And I am sure that is true
because I could stick my dick between two pieces of raw liver and get the
same physical feeling but with absolute zero thrill, yet the sight of a
piece of white flesh with a slit in front and I'd cream my pants. Or even
less the sight of those white cotton panties stretched across a small
protuberance with a dip in the centre. It's bizarre, I don't understand
it, it doesn't make any sense but that's the way we're wired and instead of
fighting I used it to my pleasure.
I created in my head the scenarios and whilst playing through the
possibilities I'd stroke myself to a magnificent crescendo. Of course the
little brain in the end of my dick isn't stupid and it wouldn't believe any
ridiculous scenarios. If I came up with a scenario whereby Amy pulled me
into the bushes, grabbed my dick and rammed it up her cunt shouting "Fuck
me big boy!" the little brain just wouldn't believe and consequently would
not respond. So realistic possibilities tended the centre around us baby
sitting Amy or sub scenarios like her having some type of toilet accident
and need of cleaning up. Plainly the baby sitting held out the greatest
possibilities as it gave me more time to get something together. I would
work through a plan of what I could achieve and how I could achieve it.
For example in Plan A I would slip a double dose of sleeping tablets in
Pam's drink and that would be her out of the equation. That would leave me
with Amy whom I could similarly drug or get drunk and do what ever I could
do to an unconscious body. Plan B would involve some ingenious game or
role play whereby she exposed her crotch or felt my dick. Those were the
scenarios and in until the opportunity presented itself all I could do was
prepare the ground. Preparing the ground with Amy came down to
desensitising her to seeing each others bits and gaining her trust as a
second father. Other preparatory work I could do involved Sarah.
As I said previously, Sarah was a liberated woman, she was a 21st
century woman, she knew what she wanted and she didn't wait to be asked?
On a couple of occasions I'd picked up the vibes that she wanted to play.
There was a sultry look, the meeting of eyes, the licking of lips, the
pulling of crutches together during the slow dances and the stroking of
bottoms. All these things were done in whilst we were both pissed as rats
but you know what they say, "The truth comes out in drink."
I'd ignored these advances because I made a ruling for myself years
earlier that I would never fuck and mates wife. Good mates are hard to get
and loose woman are easy to get so it's stupid to risk losing a good mate
for a loose woman. It occurred to me however, during one of my many head
game scenarios, that if I managed to get something on with Amy and she told
her mum, mum might be less inclined to come running at me with a knife if I
had something on her; e.g. we'd had an affair. So it wasn't long before
another drunken event and another slow dance. It was another BBQ, it was
dark and we were at the other end of the garden. We were slumped over each
other her head on my shoulder me nuzzling her ear. Crutches were gyrating
to the music and both our hands were supporting the globes of each other's
bottom. She turned her head to face me, our eyes met and we both knew what
was happening. I moved forwards and ours open lips met tongues fencing
with each other. She was moaning I was eyes wide open gripped with fear
that we might be seen.
We pulled apart standing (dancing) upright facing each other looking
straight forward into each others eyes. "Do you know where this is going?"
I asked. "No but we could find out, shall I call you?" she replied.
"Yes." I said.
That was it we broke apart and returned to the group. It was as if we
both knew we'd done our jobs for the night, there was nothing else we could
do and so there was no point in being together and inviting attention.
Come about 2 AM, Sarah and George were ready to go, having picked up Amy
from the spare bed. They went round saying their goodbyes to our hosts and
the remaining drunks. When she came to say good by to us and we kissed on
the side of the cheek I felt her tongue lick my cheek and she squeezed my
head tightly. Again, that didn't need any interpreting.
Next day I was sat at my desk looking at the phone and thinking what to
say to her. After walking round the phone for an hour I thought, oh well
in for a penny in for a pound. I picked up the phone and rang her home.
The maid answered and I asked for Sarah. She asked me who was calling and
gave her the company name.
Sarah came - "Hello?" With a stutter, 'hi," I said, "it's Eddie, how are
you?" "Ugh," she replied. "I feel like I've had brain surgery without an
anaesthetic." "Yeah, me too," I said, "but it was a fun day or at least
what I can recollect from beneath the alcoholic mist - Pam can't remember a
thing, she has complete memory loss, do you get that?" I asked. "No," she
said, "sometimes I wish I didn't remember but I always remember everything"
"Did you do anything last night that you want to forget?" I asked. "No,"
she said "did you?" "No," I said, "but I wish the little guy between my
legs would forget because he's driving me crazy trying to burst his way
out!"
She laughed. "I suppose I should take that as a compliment!" she said.
"I think you should," I said, "but that doesn't help me what am I going to
tell the little guy?" "You have to tell him to wait until George is out of
town. He's supposed to be flying to Surabaya next week to talk about some
machinery maybe we could sort something out then. Can I call you at the
office or on your cell?" "The office is best I think," I said. "Ok," she
said, "speak to you soon and give that little guy a kiss from me."
George didn't go to Surabaya, and weeks went by whilst Sarah wracked her
brain trying to effect a safe liaison. What caused me a little smile was
that she was going through the same process in her head trying to get
inside my pants as I was going through trying to get inside her daughter's
pants.
By this time Amy was seven years old and with each passing month grew
more and more adorable. I was her favourite uncle and she clung to me like
a limpet. I loved holding the small globes of her arse as she hugged my
neck, smelling that little girl smell in her hair.
Occasionally, when feeling emboldened by drink, I would pick her up by
cupping those soft globes whilst extending my middle finger between her
legs and long the crack of her little slit. The act of lifting, with her
weight in my hands, causing my finger to wedge between her labia, the
length of her slit. As soon as she had her arms and legs wrapped around me
I would withdraw the finger. She never showed any sign that she was
troubled by this or that she even noticed that I was doing anything more
than lift her up. I would raise that finger to my nose and inhale deeply
desperately trying to detect any flavours of anything, trying to sort
between the smells of toilet and sex. Trying to convince myself that I
could detect a faint odour of little girl juice from amongst the smells of
urine and poorly wiped bottom. Finally I would role that finger across my
tongue breathing across it again trying to detect and sort all the
flavours.
Meantime her mum's commitment and lust remained unabated. She
constantly reconfirmed that commitment with a squeeze of my hand, feet
rubbing under he dinner table and body rubbing as we passed. This plainly
wasn't enough for her, she wanted more. The environment we lived in was so
small and gossip was so cherished amongst the bored; she knew that she had
to be very careful. Undeterred, her ingenuity knew no bounds.
On a particular Saturday night a group of us staggered from the golf
club bar to a Chinese restaurant. The restaurant was crowded and we were
packed round a table. Sarah made sure she was sat on my left. Pam was on
my right. It wasn't long before Sarah's shoeless foot was stoking the side
of my leg. Wanting to show willing with minimum risk I leaned forward and
folding my right hand across my chest and under my left I stroked her arm.
That was my way of saying I'm still 'on' when the time is right. She read
it as "go to stage two."
Her right hand under the table she grabbed my dick through my pants and
slowly kneaded both dick and balls. Of course that woke up the little
brain in my bell end which responded once again turning putty to steel -
well maybe more like wood than steel. Pleased with my response she gripped
the shaft through my pants and slowly kneaded it. Again wanting to show
will, I slipped my left hand under the table to squeeze her knee and stroke
her thigh. She grabbed my hand and pulled it under her very short mini
dress directly onto her crotch. She hand no panties on!
I froze. She brought her hand back to the table and joined the
conversation. My left hand was on her crotch. Her pubic hair was straight
and soft. I brought my middle finger back between her labia lips and into
a very silky smooth wet and warm place. I stroked my hand upwards my
middle finger passing her clit as it went. I felt her body tense as my
digit passed and pressed that magic button. Out on top I stroked her pubic
hair which was smooth and soft. I could tell from the texture that it had
not been shaved or clipped but also that it was relatively sparse. I mean
it wasn't a dense mat; more light covering.
I moved my hand downward once again my middle finger sliding between her
labia lips, this time from the top and my digit soon making contact with
her clit. I paused there and gently circled her clit, then did figures of
eight and crosses from side to side. She'd stopped talking, stared
straight ahead, holding her glass in one hand, her knuckles white she was
squeezing it so hard. I could see her throat contracting as she was
fighting back an orgasmic scream.
I lowered my hand and my finger plunged deep into her. She was wet.
She was so wet I wondered if she'd pissed herself. My hand was soaked, her
dress beneath her must also be soaked. How the hell was she going hide or
explain a huge wet patch in her dress. Luckily it was a black dress and so
the wetness might not appear as bad as it might with a lighter colour.
She was tight - her cunt muscles were gripping my finger and pulling it
back in each time I pulled it back. I circled around exploring as deeply
and laterally as I could get with changing my body stance at the table.
Once again she lurched forward ever so slightly, squeezed her legs together
hard, clenched her fists and held her breath. Two orgasms in two minutes.
I wondered if Amy would have inherited her mother's responses. Would Amy
smell and taste like her mother?
I pulled my hand free and raising it to my mouth I sucked my middle
finger. I thought Sarah's eyes were going to pop out of her head. Her
mouth opened, she bit her bottom lip and hunched her shoulders inwards.
Was she having a third orgasm? Surely nobody can come three times in three
minutes and one of those just looking at me lick my finger. Luckily there
was spare ribs on the table so it did look out of place when I was licking
my hand. I was breathing in the smell and savouring the flavour trying to
search my memory for some hint that they might be a vintage version of
Amy's smell and taste.
If she had come three times or even if she'd come twice, that was
sufficient to gain my attention. Although from my point of view, my game
with Sarah had started out as a means to an end, I now found myself
intrigued. Is she one of those women that just can't get enough, are never
satisfied and want to keep pumping away until we bleed? I'd met that type
before and the novelty wears off VERY quickly. Was it 'doing it' in public
that turned her on - again and perhaps unusually, I'd had a few of those,
and have found the idea quite novel. Did she piss herself, or was she an
ejaculator? I was now hooked and I wanted to know.
Getting back to reality I was still worried about the puddle on her seat
and her wet dress. I was hoping she was also worried and working out a
solution. Sarah left to go to the toilet, maybe there's some kind of dryer
in there. Ah, got it I thought, as I reached across the table, bringing my
elbow back I knocked a bottle wine down which poured on the side of the
table onto her seat. Sarah came back and as she was about to sit I told
her of my accident with the wine. She felt the seat with her hand and said
"It's OK." She sat down and promptly jumped up announcing "The seat's wet."
I apologised and said "Sorry. I just told you I had an accident with the
wine." "My fault," she said. "I didn't understand." She called the waiter
to change her chair. A little later on she leant across and said "Thanks
for the chair stunt."
The next day I was at my desk when the phone rang. "Hi, it's me" she
said. "Hi, how are you?" I said. "I just wanted to thank you for last
night," she replied. "Thank me for what?" I asked. "Oh never mind," she
said, "we'll talk about it another time. I have a plan. How's this sound?
I have to pick Amy up from school at 3:30. I know George is travelling
back from Surabaya at that time. I could take a contact lead from one of
the plugs in my car and say that the car wouldn't start and that you were
the only person I could call. You pick Amy up from school and bring her
home. She can play in her room with her toys and we can have some time
together! What do you think?"
I didn't think it was the best plan in the world, in fact it smacked a
little of desperation. I was attracted to the idea of being entrusted with
Amy and Amy being in the vicinity of me and a her oestrogen-high mother.
"OK, let's do it!" I said. "Call me at 3:15 so that the telephone records
show the call."
Bang on time, 3:15, my phone rang and I heard her tense voice, "Hi, are
we still OK?" "I'll be there in 30 minutes" I said.
I drove to Amy's school and there she was skipping round the playground.
She was, of course, dressed in school uniform, blue gingham cotton dress
flapping as she skipped, pale blue sun hat covering her dishevelled hair,
little white socks and sandals. "Amy!" I shouted. "Uncle Eddie!" she
shouted back and ran towards me. Without any drop in speed she hit the
side of my leg and hugged it like she been rescued from the witch's den. I
lifted her up cupping those lush globes as I raised her to eye level and
she wrapped her legs around me.
"Your mum's car broke down and she asked me to collect you," I said.
"OK," she said, "let me get my stuff" I put her down and off she ran to the
school entrance where she collected her pink and white 'Whinny the Pooh'
shoulder satchel. I'd spent a large part of the day trying to work out how
I could maximise our 15 minutes alone and came to the conclusion that,
sadly, there was nothing I could achieve in 15 minutes. I place her in the
centre of the back seat, buckled her in and off we went to mom's house.
She sat there singing "Row, row, row the boat gently down the stream." A
perfect picture of innocence. I'm spent more time looking in the rear view
mirror at this vision of loveliness than I did on the road. Next thing she
has her hand between her legs, "Uncle Eddie! I need the toilet."
My first thoughts were 'opportunity', my problem was: how do I realise
this opportunity? The best I could do with where I was and where I was
going was to stop in lay by and enjoy watching her water the tarmac. Or I
could ask her to hang on and see how it developed. I opted for the latter.
"Can you hang on sweetheart? Is it a number one or a number two?" "It's a
number one uncle Eddie, and I need to go now!" she said as she raised her
dress to look at her crotch. Presumably to see is anything's happening.
Something was happening, the little brain in the end of my dick had got the
message and was trying to get out and investigate. "We're nearly there
honey, try and hang on, try putting your finger on the hole!"
She pulled open the front of her panties and shoved her hand in. I
could see the imprint of her hand wriggling around in the panties trying to
position itself over her urethra. "Let me hear you singing your song baby
that will take your mind off it."
Off she goes "Row, row, row the boat," with me joining in. I slowed
down so that I could drive safely and also so that I could watch the show.
I didn't want to miss it if she lost control and emptied the contents of
her bladder on the back seat. Even if it cost me a new backseat the sight
and smell would be worth it and I was sure I could capitalise on it
somehow.
The singing seemed to do the trick. Nearing her home she again shouted
"Uncle Eddie, I need to go now I can't keep it in." I could see a wet patch
in the front of her crotch as she fought it back, sometimes failing with
the occasional leak. Drifting slowly across my nose come the first faint
odour of little girl piss. Ever so feint but definitely there. And, the
patch the crotch of her panties is now the size of her hand. Sarah lives
in a secure complex of apartments, as we all do so I need first to get
through the security gets which usually means pressing the intercom button
and waiting for someone open the electric gates. Luckily as we arrive
someone must have arrived moments before us so I was able to drive straight
through the gates into the car park.
I jumped out, unbuckled her, dropped her to the floor which she hit
running hand still in crotch. I collected her bag and followed. She was
banging on her door. By the time I got there I could see the sides of her
white cotton socks are wet as she's dribbled urine down her legs. Mum was
wearing a white cotton house coat. Thin, not see through but I could see
she was not wearing a bra. She looked a little surprised, not quite the
arrival she expected.
I explained, "We were halfway here, and she announces that she needed to
wee. I asked her to hang on, but I'm not sure she was a hundred percent
successful." She bit her bottom lip and gave a sort of embarrassed smile.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she said. "Did she make a mess of your car?" "Don't
worry about," I said, "just see that she's OK."
We walked towards the toilet, the door was open and Amy was sat there,
legs splayed, head between them. Her panties were on the floor looking
quite wet. Amy's head was buried between her legs watching the last flow.
"Mummy I couldn't wait," she said. "Never mind pumpkin let's get you into
the bath," her mom said. I sat myself in the lounge, strategically
positioned, with a reasonable view through into the bathroom and the
hallway leading to the bedrooms.
I watched as Sarah raised Amy's dress over hear head and took off her
shoes and socks. Amy then walked naked from the bathroom to her bedroom
and returned with a handful of bath toys. She was almost seven now and
getting bigger everyday. Notwithstanding that we are in a hot sunny
country, her skin is white as snow. Her hair is a mousy blond colour and
almost always a mess. She's very pretty. She's certainly not thin but you
couldn't call her fat. She has a very female arse, I mean some girls of
her age have a boys arse or no arse, some don't develop that roundness
until puberty. Amy already had some shape. That's probably from her
father's side. George is quite heavy. It's certainly not from Sarah.
Sarah's arse and tits could in no way be described as large. Sarah was
about 5' 6" slim build, a nice tight body, smallish tits and a nice size
arse, small but a distinctly round female arse. She has black shoulder
length hair and a pale complexion. Picking Amy up, Sarah put her in the
tub with her ducks and boats.
"Mummy's going to make Uncle Eddie cup of coffee, pumpkin, stay in the
bath until mummy comes back," she instructed. She closed the door walked
to the TV set and switched up the volume (strange thing to do). She picked
up my hand and walked me to her bedroom. She closed and locked the door
behind her. She cupped my face in her hands and enclosed my lips in hers
eating my face like a starving woman. I brought my hands around her, under
her buttocks and draw her crotch to mine. She whimpered.
Without unlocking tongues she fumbled to undo the belt on my trousers
whilst I drew up her housecoat in my fingers from behind. Ziiiiiiip, my
trousers were now round my ankles and her housecoat was raised beyond her
buttocks to reveal zero panties, just soft hot flesh. Her hand went inside
my shorts and she gripped my dick like she thought it might escape. I
stepped out of my pants and walked her, still eating my tongue to the bed.
This lady was HOT! It had been a long time since I had anybody this
hungry.
I lowered her to the bed and we detach long enough for me to strip off
the remaining clothing. She lay lying there, housecoat wide open. Her
tits were small, which I knew but the areola was large, brown and raised.
The areola was like a little brown tit on top of a little white tit and all
that topped with a large, finger like nipple. Her crotch has it's natural
covering of hair, it's black, straight and quite sparse. Her pubic mound
is very pronounced. I can't see the slit, just the presences of it by the
direction the pubic hair has grown. All this information I take in and
etch onto my brain in the less than 10 seconds it takes me to undress.
I sat beside her and stroked her face looking straight into her eyes. I
ran my finger along her eyes and her lips. I trailed them down her neck to
her chest. I circled her nipples and at the same time applied soft
pressure to her areola trying to gage just how soft it is. And it was
deliciously soft. I ran my hand down and along stomach to her pubic mound
and ran my fingers through her soft pubic hair. She parted her legs
slightly at the knees. I took my time to enjoy the vista. I looked back
at her and she was looking straight into my eyes and smiling. The look on
her face was one of excited expectation, of success and anticipation.
I lowered my mouth onto her right breast. Umm! I love puffy nipples,
the areoles are so soft. I took just the teat between my lips and sucked
then rubbed my tongue all around it before sucking hungrily on as much tit
as I can get into my mouth. My right hand was now between her legs and my
middle finger pressing through her labia lips to the wetness below. She
whimpered as my digit found her love hole. I drew my finger up and along
her slit so that the digit was on here clit and I gently massaged it. She
put her hands on her mouth trying to muffle her groans. She's wet, very
wet.
I wondered, momentarily, why this woman planned everything else except
the consequences of the volumes of loves juice which would soak the bed. I
slid across lying directly on top of her and between her legs, my rigid
pole pressing down on top of her pubic mound, my balls nestled in the V of
her legs. Her soft chest cushioning mine and I kissed her deeply. I then
slid down her body heading for my favourite entree. If I had a list of
things I liked to do 'muff diving' would be at the top. I think there's a
certain closeness of feeling that can only be attained on the tip of your
tongue. I am turned on by the female orgasm and to feel that on one's
tongue is exquisite. As my head passed her tits I gave them each a brief
suck before kissing my way down her belly to the Bermuda triangle.
I rubbed my cheeks on her soft pubic hair and I started my olfactory
exploration. Again it's all about senses and for me smell is as important
as any other. I drank in the smell of girl juice. How do I describe that
smell? I can't but I know that both my brains want to eat shrimp and not
sardine and if my little brain gets a whiff of sardine he'll deflate like a
burst tyre. Not a problem on this occasion it's shrimp and I am going to
eat well. I pushed my nose between her labia and drew it up the length of
her slit with my extended tongue following all the way up to her clit which
I took between by lips and sucked like a teat. I gazed up along the length
of her body and she had both hands over her mouth stifling her groans. I
pushed both my arms under her legs so that my shoulders are under her
thighs, so that her arse is slightly off the bed and her pubis is raised to
eye level. I brought my hands round on top and with her pussy inches from
my eyes I part her labia exposing the pink, going on red, slit and her love
hole.
I burnt the image into my head so that when I am laying on top of her
with my dick buried balls deep I can visualise the dicks eye view. I
shoved my tongue down as deep into her hole as I could get it and massaged
her clit with my lip. She gasped trying to hold back a noise like she was
giving birth. She exuding fluid at a rate and again I wondered whether
she'd lost a little bladder control but there was no smell of urine, just
love juice. I was in heaven, hungrily doing my own thing when suddenly
both her hands grasped the back of my head as she ground her pussy onto my
tongue and let out an ear shattering scream, followed by the cries to God.
"Oh, oh, oh please, oh please, don't stop, God! Oh my God, you don't know
what this means to me!" I looked up and saw she'd arched her head up off
the pillow to take in the sight of her pussy being eaten. Suddenly I heard
the door handle "Mummy, mummy what's wrong? Are you all right, why did you
scream?" It was Amy. "It's OK honey, I'm fine, there was spider on my bed,
I'm coming now," shouted Sarah. We both jumped up. I grabbed my clothes
and ran into the en-suite. Sarah went and unlocked the bedroom door. I
pulled the bathroom door across me and looked through the crack into the
bedroom. Amy paddled in dripping wet with a towel over her shoulders and
sporting a very nice wet, shinny, puffy pubis. "Where's uncle Eddie?" she
asked. "I don't know sweetheart. I came in here to use the toilet. Did
he go out to clean up his car?"
She shuffled Amy out of her room exposing a huge wet patch at the rear
of her house coat as she left. I dressed and walked to the door to hear
their voices coming from Amy's room. I moved to the kitchen, made myself a
cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table. Amy followed shortly wearing a
yellow cotton sundress, no shoes or socks and carrying a colouring book and
pencils. Seeing me, "Uncle Eddie!" she beamed and ran to me. I caught her
and gave her a hug. Turning her round to sit on my lap to enable her to
colour her book on the table I slid her down the front of me to ensure that
her dress rode up her back and there was one less piece of clothing between
us. Sadly she was wearing panties.
I settled the globes of her bottom either side of my still turgid dick.
She wriggled her bottom trying to get comfortable with the steel Eddie rod
up against her. Of course the wriggle only served to strengthen it's
resolve to harden further. With my dick now throbbing between her cheeks I
leant forward and drank in the newly washed little girl smell whilst
helping her to colour her book.
Sarah joined us, poured a cup of coffee and as I looked at her she
mouthed the word 'Sorry'. "Come now pumpkin leave uncle Eddie alone to
enjoy his coffee, go and play with your dollies in the garden, I think
they'd like a tea party! Here you are," she said as she handed her
daughter a tray with a little tea set on. I lowered Amy to the floor and
off she trotted into the garden.
Seeing Amy, through the window, at a safe distance Sarah came over, held
my face and said "That was wonderful! I haven't climaxed like that since I
was eighteen! You don't know how long I have yearned for that. What about
you, are you OK?" "Depends what you mean by OK" I said, "I am getting a lot
of complaints from the guy between my legs who doesn't understand what's
going on." "Oh I'm so sorry." she said. "I so much want to make him happy,
I'd do anything, tell me what to do and I'll do it." "That's OK," I said
"Don't worry about it, it can't be helped there's no point in blowing it,
Amy could walk in at any time and we'd have a lot of explaining to do."
"You're right of course, but I just feel so guilty. There'll be another
time and I'll make up for it then, you have my promise!" she said. It was
time to leave, I waved goodbye to Amy I left them there to head back to the
office.
On the drive back I played events back in my head. Was the effort and
risk worth the return? Was I being used? It was a little one-sided, so
far she'd creamed herself four times and all I'd got was a very swollen set
of balls which were now aching. Maybe I should just go back to reading the
erotic stories on the internet and jacking off. Maybe I should get back
into bed with Pam. Pam and I hadn't had sex for over three years. No
particular reason we'd just fallen out of love. We stayed together because
we were too lazy to sort out a proper split. Frustrated and a little
depressed, I decided I was being stupid, the chances of me getting a chance
at Amy was almost zero so I should drop Sarah and get back to something I
could rely upon - erotic stories, my imagination and my right hand. That
was a combination that could take me anywhere in absolute safety. I might
even risk downloaded some of those porno photos. Maybe I should devote my
efforts into finding a way of getting the porno photos without the porn
police tracking me down.
Next day the phone rang, it was Sarah, "Hi, how are you?" "I'm fine," I
said. "You don't sound fine you sound a little strained." "Sarah maybe we
should call it a day," I said. "It's just too difficult." "Oh Eddie
please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry about yesterday, please don't end it now!
It's meant so much to me! please not now, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to
you, I'll do anything you ask of me," she said. "Anything?" I asked.
"Anything!" she replied. "Would you do it with Debbie Johnson?"
There was silence. Debbie Johnson was a reasonably attractive lady
golfer who had left her husband to live with a rather butch looking lady
golfer. Breaking the silence I came in "I'm joking!" "You bastard!" she
said. "I thought you were serious. I know all men are supposed to have
this thing about watching two women do it. Eddie I'd do it for you."
"Honestly Sarah I was joking, well I was joking about Debbie but I really
do think we should re-think what we're doing" "I'm sorry Eddie, you're
right, It's not your fault that I'm so frustrated, you see George and I
don't do it, George has never keen but we stopped doing it altogether years
back. That's my problem, you've got Pam, it's not fair that I should come
between you," she said. "Well actually Sarah, without wanting to turn this
into true confessions, Pam and I don't do it either, so you don't need to
feel guilt there," I told her. "So do you have someone else?" she asked.
"No," I laughed, "but I do have a very reliable right hand and a vivid
imagination." "I've tried that," she said, "I'd pay anything for a decent
vibrator but their banned in this country so I am left with searching for
the perfect carrot, I must have gone through a kilo of carrots in the last
few weeks, reliving the moments we've had together."
This dirty talk was getting me horny and of course the little brain
started to take over. "OK," I said, "let's hang in there and see what
comes up, I'll give some thought to how we can make it happen." "Me too"
she said "I'm now off to the vegetable wrack to see if there's any
interesting shapes there. Love you - bye." She was gone. Love you, hmm
what does that mean?
The following Thursday was Pam's book club evening. That's where her
book club buddies meet once a month at each of their houses in turn, swap
books and drink wine. On these evenings I am volunteered to drive home
some of the ladies whose husbands are too disinterested or too pissed to
collect their wives. Staying at the golf club bar until 11pm and staying
sober is not easy but I did my best and tipped up at our place in
reasonable condition. Most of the ladies had left leaving drunks to drain
the wine seller. I was a little surprised to see Sarah amongst the
giggling throng as George normally collects her. Four of them, including
Sarah stood up as Pam assured them that I am happy to take them home!
They stumbled outside and Sarah declared, "I'll get in the front as I'm
last out I think." Not quite sure how she'd worked that one out but it had
nothing to do with who was first or last. The way the other three were in
no condition to work it out either.
I dropped off the last back seat lady and by the time we'd got to the
end of her road Sarah had unzipped my pants and retrieved a very surprised
little guy who was fast waking up and waking up inside a warm and very wet
mouth. Now I suppose it's about the right time in these stories to trawl
the dictionary for superlatives to describe the enormity of the phallus in
question. In my case the phallus in question measures a miserable 5" maybe
5 1/2" depending on how deep I suck in the ruler. Over the years that fact
has brought me considerable disappointment in the locker room but has never
brought me any complaints from the females in my life. Size does matter
but not as much as strength and staying power. They'll take 5" of steel
over 12" of putty any day. Sarah was managing to et all 5" in her mouth
and I could feel the back of her throat swallowing and in does so it was
constricting on my bell end.
I stroked the back of her head and her cheek and felt my dick pushing at
the other side of her cheek. She was doing a damn good impression of
someone who was enjoying this more than me. I wondered if she had any
panties on, I couldn't her cunt without leaning so far over it would affect
my driving but so what I could have a look. Whilst she bobbed her head up
and down my shaft a pulled her dress up one handful at a time to reveal two
lovely globes separated by a thong.
I stroked her bare bottom whilst she slurped hungrily at my dick. This
was heaven, a good blow job is always nice but most of the time they're
doing it to please you not because they want to do it. Sarah was just
sucking my dick she was holding my nuts and rolling them tenderly
occasionally leaving the shaft the lick my balls at bone point trying to
get one of them in her mouth which was an interesting experience which I
would have been keen to pursue but not from the position we were in. I was
holding back as much as I could trying to think of football and anything
else to prolong the experience. And fighting back thoughts of Amy and how
it would feel with a little girl tongue lapping at the underside of my
helmet - bugger that was it Amy had crept into my head and into the brain
in my little head and from there to my nuts and the volcano erupted.
I exhaled air which an audible uuuuuuughhhhhh as my head went dizzy as
an incredible orgasm washed over me. My dick was throbbing and moments
later the first load hit the back of Sarah's throat. She whimpered and
started sucking harder and faster swallowing my sponk and the head of my
dick each time it hit the back of her throat. Uuuuughhhhhh next load
arrived as my balls rise to deliver a load up from my toe nails. Without
missing a beat or any enthusiasm Sarah hungrily sucks and bobs like her
life depends upon it. I am now lost to my imagination and trying to
convince the brain in my head and my dick that it's Amy that sucking my
dick. Now travelling at less than 20 miles and hour and with traffic
queuing up behind out of the corner of my eye I see a lay-by and pull in.
Sarah still sucking the last throws of my orgasm and my throbbing dick
having swallowed everything I delivered.
I switched the engine off and the lights off and sat there and she's
still sucking my meagre 5" now slowly reducing in size. After what seemed
a long time and when my dick is thoroughly drained and half it's erect
size, she came up for air. She looked me straight in the eyes "Thank you,
that was lovely," she said. "Thank you," I said "the pleasure's all mine."
She leaned across and kissed me. Smelling heavily of wine and tasting of
wine and sponk. I've never tasted sponk and I didn't want to try and so
kissed with little enthusiasm. It did occur to somewhat bizarre that I
would willing stick my tongue up her cunt and drink her juices but burked
at the idea of tasting my own sponk. Bizarre but absolutely true.
"I need a piss," she said. She opened her door stepped outside and
leaving the door open to hide herself from passing motorists, she raised
her dress dropped her panties to her ankles and crouched down holding onto
the car seat. She looked back at me and smiled. I heard the hissss and
splash as a torrent of reprocessed red wine hit the tarmac. I recognise
that face and smile, it was the same face and impish smile I'd seen on Amy
when she took a piss alongside the golf cart. She finished pulled up her
panties, adjusted her dress and got back into the car. Off we set with her
arms draped around my neck and her nuzzling my ear.
"I've wanted to do that for so long" she said. "I know I've shanghaied
you tonight," she said, "but I've wanted to suck your dick and drink your
sponk for so long and I wanted to do it before you ended our relationship
so that I can remember it when I'm alone with my carrots. I know I'm drunk
but I wouldn't have had the courage without the wine." "Sarah" I said "that
was the best blow job I've had ever, I want continue exploring our
relationship, we just have to be careful." "That's great," she said, with a
slur of speech. "I was also feeling a little guilty because you've given
me four great orgasms and I haven't been able to reciprocate and you've
been left frustrated." "Well I'm feeling quite content right now," I said.
"But what about you? I'll be leaving you to do what you can with the
carrots. Is there something I can do for you?" I asked.
She nuzzled closer into my neck, "Will you fuck my arse?" Woooow,
suddenly my head ran at a hundred miles an hour; is she serious; how/where
do we do it; what's she been drinking, must ask Pam to get some more; can I
do it, will the little guy rise to the occasion, I thought. Too late for
that question big brain had already communicated with little brain and who
was now waking up a sleeping giant. Well it'll feel like a giant unless
she's been well reamed before. "But we're nearly home" I said. Stupid -
was that the best thing you could say, I thought.
"There's a building site at the end of this road," she said. She was
pissed and she was thinking clearer than I me. I wonder if she'd
considered that I might not like rear ending? As it happened it was next
on my list after muff diving. I pulled onto a very dark building site. I
switched off and leant over to join lips with her very hungry mouth. She
unbuckled my pants whilst I'm squeezed her tits. I had done a little shit
shunting in the past but often needed a little lubricant, if she was dry
this was going to hurt. If she was dry, what was I thinking? This is the
woman that soaked the chair in the Chinese restaurant and nearly drowned me
when I was diving her muff.
"Lets go outside" I said. We stood locked face the face at the side of
the car. Me pulling up the back of her dress, her freeing my now rigid
dick. I slipped my hands in the back of her thong and brought my right
hand round and over her crotch. Ooooooh the heat emanating from that
crotch. I slid my middle finger between her labia lips and into the
wetness. Her panties were soaked and the goo was running down her legs.
"Have you done this before?" I said.
"No," she said. Not a question I would normally ask for fear of
embarrassing but I wanted to know and she was pissed enough not to be
embarrassed and to answer truthfully. I turned her round and she stood
there whilst I took the sides of her panties in each hand and lowered them
to the ground, inhaling deeply as I passed her rear end and noting the
glistening on the inside of her leg as the moonlight bounced of her juices.
I stood up stepped out of my pants and moved in behind her, my dick upright
and place squarely between the two globes of her arse. Nuzzling her neck I
bring my right arm around her chest and squeeze her tits and my left hand
onto her crotch. With my middle finger I found her clitoris and massaged
it. She gasped and fell forward with her hands on the bonnet to support
herself. I dipped at the knees so that my dick drew down her crack to
below her bottom across her juice love hole and between her legs. I rose
up so that my dick was then between her legs and sticking out at the front.
With her right hand she cupped the underside of my dick and pushed it
against her pussy.
Without an further movement, like a homing torpedo my dick slides
gracefully deep inside her love hole. Ooooh she's tight, I don't mean
really tight but tighter than I expected. Thank got she'd stayed with the
carrots and hadn't progressed to cucumbers. I rocked backwards and
forwards slowly. She dropped forward lying face down on the bonnet. Both
hands grasping her mouth to muffle her screams. We were both lucky that I
had emptied my balls only 15 minutes earlier otherwise this might have been
all over by now. Enjoying the ride and enjoying the site I arched back and
with both hands I parted the cheeks of her arse. I was a full moon, not
the best light, I couldn't see detail but I could see a very shining dick
sliding gracefully into a very wet hole. I could also see a little
puckered rose winking at me. I couldn't tell whether she'd had an orgasms
was having one or was about to have one she huffed, puffed and whimpered
gagging herself with both hands.
I ran my index finger around the point where my shaft was entering her
and enjoyed the feel of that thinly stretched skin ensuring a good coating
of the worlds finest lubricant. I ran my finger across the very small gap
from love hole to bum hole and I slip the index into a very tight
sphincter. That confirmed her reply, this was most definitely a virgin
arse. Her sphincter fought my invading finger desperately trying to protect
it's secrets. Little by little whilst continuing slowly and steadily fuck
her cunt I pressed my middle finger deep into her arse. The sight was as
good as the feel. Her writhing in deep pleasure, my dick comfortable about
its work and my finger obscenely buried in her arse.
I withdrew my finger took hold of the base of my dick and presented the
head up against her very closed and very tight sphincter. Now this is
where size matters and this is where rigidity matters. I pushed forward
and the dick of steel bent and the sphincter fought back. I pushed and my
dick slipped and shot straight up her love hole with considerable speed and
force. Hit her cervix at the bottom and as though on automatic pilot
started the fucking her hard. This time she was unable to contain the
scream and it was ear piercing.
If there was anybody nearby we were now in deep shit. Well one way or
another I was going to be in deep shit so again gripping the base of my
shaft I position the head against the sphincter. Placing the underside of
the head of my dick at her sphincter and the fingers of my left hand on the
top side of the head of my dick I leant forward and using my fingers I
pushed the head passed that ring of muscle into her hole. Her sphincter
disinclined to give up yet was now gripping my dick just below the head and
cutting of the blood supply to my head. Obviously this sphincter had no
previous experience otherwise it would have know that the game was now up.
Once the head was inside it's all over, nothing can stop the shaft. And
leaning forward the shaft followed the head deep into her bowels.
Ooooh that was TIGHT, that sphincter was unrelenting squeezing tightly
round my dick as it glided backwards and forwards deep into a very warm,
wet dark place. Now properly and securely in place a grinding away slowly
I reached around with both hands and found her clitoris. We were now
there; arse impaled on dick clitoris fully stimulated a fresh breeze and
the stars above. Backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards, backwards,
forwards I was lost in another world, oblivious to her screams. Suddenly
Amy popped into my head and the thought of fucking her arse and the feel of
that soft puffy white mound. I feel my balls rise, my dick throb and the
first load leave me to spray the inside of her bowels to the accompaniment
of anther ear shattering scream. Second load coming - lovely and I rock
backwards and forwards as her sphincter drains every drop from me into her
rectum.
Standing there both of us gasping for air, totally shattered I watch my
dick shrink and pop out of bowels as her sphincter spit it out. What a
mess we're both sweating like pigs, dripping with love juice and smelling
of cum. I use my underpants to wipe myself. She's still lying over the
bonnet her sphincter winking at me as she breaths in and out. I bent down
and kiss her cheeks. Using my underpants I wiped up from the insides of
her legs across her cunt and arse trying to mop up as much goo as possible.
Turning them inside out I repeated the operation until she was as a dry as
I could get her.
I joined her copying her position stretched over the bonnet of the car.
Face to face I kissed her motionless lips. "Are you awake?" I ask. "I
feel sick," she said. I lifted her up, she was like a rag doll.
Supporting her we shuffled to the car door. I opened it and eased her
bottom onto the seat. She wretched. I jumped clear and out of the way as
she projectile vomits a mixture of red wine and my sponk.. With her head
between her legs and my hands on her shoulders she emptied the contents of
her stomach onto the tarmac. With nothing else available but my
underpants, I used them to wipe the splatters of vomit from around her
mouth only to replace it with a mixture of her juice and my sponk. What a
mess, not sure if I am making matters worse I threw the underpants over her
onto the drivers seat, picked up her legs and swing them round into the
well of the front passenger seat.
Collecting her panties from the ground at the side of the car. I joined
her. "Sarah, what are we going to do, will George be awake when we get you
home?" I asked. "George is out of town, urgent business" she replied.
Thank God for that I thought. "Who's minding Amy?" I asked. "Maid," she
grunted.
I drove to her house. By the time I got there she was fast asleep and
there was no waking her. I knocked on the door and Anna, her maid
answered. "Mrs Richardson's sick, too much drink, help me please Anna," I
said to her as I led her to the car to help me get Sarah out. With Sarah
between us we frog marched her through the house to her bedroom. "Thanks
Anna, you can go now, she's fine. I'll just cover her over and she can
sleep it off." "You sure you're OK Mr Cunningham?" she asked. "Fine Anna,
is Amy OK?" I said. "Yes," she said "she's sleeping." "OK, you get off
now," I said. "I might make myself a cup of coffee and check on her before
I leave." Anna picked up her bits and left.
Although all the houses had attached maid's quarters, neither I or the
Richardson's had live-in maids. We didn't because we didn't need a 24/7
maid. They didn't because of the problems it brings trying to sack them
when they go bad. Once Anna was clear I uncovered Sarah and undressed her
down to naked. I put her clothes in the wash basket in the bathroom. I
ran a face cloth under the tap and I took it and wiped her face which was
starting to get crusty as the juice and sponk dried. I also ran the cloth
across her pussy and legs. The cold cloth on her must have stirred
something.
She groaned and in slurred voice said "Need the toilet." I pulled her up
so that she was sitting on the bed and helping her to her feet I walked her
to the bathroom. I sat her on the toilet. She sat there like a rag doll.
Legs splayed open feet turned on their sides, head lopped to one side on
her shoulder. Stood in front of her supporting her shoulders I watched as
the piss streamed forward hitting the front of the bowl. Bending down onto
one knee I put my left hand in the flow, feeling the warm amber liquid wash
my hand and smelling the pungent odour rise. She must have a huge bladder
because it seemed to continue for ages. Finally the flow turned to a
dribble and then drops dripping from her wet pubic hair. I gabbed a
handful of paper, with my wet hand and dabbed her cunt before raising her
up and walking her back to bed, placing her on her side in case she threw
up again, I covered her and left closing the door behind.
I quietly open the door to Amy's room to check on her. The bedside
light was on. She'd fallen asleep reading a book. She was lying on her
back with the book on her chest, her legs drawn up and splayed out as
though the had been raised at the knee while she was reading her book and
had fallen open when she fell asleep. She was wearing white cotton
panties. Her mom obviously didn't stretch her mind to the possibility of
varying the colour of her daughter's underwear. From what I had seen over
three years she had a choice of any colour so long as it was white. She
did however, it would appear, have different sizes. The current pair were
obviously a size to grow into as the crotch hung away from her body.
Slowly I put my finger inside the drew them to one side to expose the
white puffy mound, the slit and, and yes, the slit was slightly open
exposing little labia lips. And yes, her legs were splayed out
sufficiently to part the lips enough to expose the start of the hole
leading to her little love tunnel. I must have stayed there for ten
minutes drinking in the sight and exploring in my head the possibilities.
What would it feel like? What would it taste like? What would it smell
like? Would my dick fit in there with causing damage? What does her hymen
look like? How deep in there is the hymen? Would I be able to see it if I
parted those lips? Thank God I'd emptied my nut sack twice on the last
hour otherwise I might not have been able to control myself.
I switched off the light and lowering myself by the side of her bed I
edged my right hand forward, with my middle finger extended forward to the
opening of her hole. I just wanted a small amount of little girl goo on my
finger, just enough to smell and taste. I made contact. It was so soft,
so smooth, so warm I pressed forward and she moved. I stopped. She
continued her steady breathing. I pressed forward a little more just
getting into her maybe a 1/4" maybe a little more. I withdrew and brought
it to my nose. I filled my lungs savouring every molecule that passed over
the sensors inside. It wasn't as musty as mum. The same elements were
there but she was sweeter. I tasted my finger; yes sweeter. I played with
the idea of going back for more with a wet finger maybe I could get in
deeper and get more. Thankfully the little brain in the end of my dick was
resting from recent events and my big brain was able to assert some sense.
I left her room. I took once last look in on her mother. Locked up and
left them to sleep.
On the drive home I re-lived the whole experience in my head. God that
arse was tight! Back to reality, I was sure that Pam would have been
unconscious from drink soon after we had left her I couldn't be sure
whether she'd be in bed or whether she'd be on the sofa so I stopped over
at the golf club on the way back and had a shower. I know we weren't
sleeping together, in fact we weren't even sleeping in the same bedroom but
there's no point in upsetting anybody. When I got home Pam was on the
sofa. I shook her, she woke and staggered off to her room without opening
her eyes.
The next day, sat at my desk I basked in a warm glow reliving the event
so the previous evening. The blow job, such enthusiasm, swallowing my load
with such relish, her plea to be reamed, the fight back from that
sphincter. Although the thing with Sarah had started as a means to an end I
found myself wondering as much about events and possibilities with her as I
did with Amy. I was intrigued. It was like she was on a mission.
Mid morning the phone rang, it was Sarah. "Hi Eddie, it's Sarah, are
you OK?" she said. "Yes, I'm fine" I said. "How are you?" "I've got a
hangover, of course, but I'm more concerned about last night. Do you hate
me?" She asked "Hate you what for?" I said. "Oh I don't know," she said,
"I make plans in my head how I can impress you and make you like me and it
all seems to go wrong, my hormones kick in, a red mist rises and all I want
to do is jump your bones, I then spend the following mornings whipping
myself before making these calls to you to apologise."
"Listen Sarah" I said "I think our problem has been circumstance, if we
had been a normal single couple we'd have had a long prelude to events
including lots of 'getting to know you' conversation, we've not had that
and that's why it might feel wrong, of course I don't hate you, I've
enjoyed everything we've done together, I am just happy I was sober last
night and was able to enjoy it and reflect on it today."
"My vomiting all over you?" she said. "OK, I must admit, that wasn't
the highlight of the night," I said laughing. "I'm so ashamed," she said.
"Did I make you do things you didn't want to do?" she asked. "No, of
course not" I replied. "You're just saying that to save my embarrassment"
she said. "Sarah" I said "believe me, my only regrets are that we didn't
have more time, a nice bed and you weren't sober enough to enjoy it with
me." "Thanks" she said, "you're so nice, and drunk as I was, I relished and
am still relishing every moment. Well every moment up to me throwing up,
after that I don't remember anything. Who put me to bed?" "Anna and I put
you to bed," I said. "And did Anna undress me?" she said. "No, that was
me," I said. "I hope you took advantage of me," she said.
I laughed. "Sorry, no, I just admired you're lovely body. Oh and I
took you to the toilet." "Oh no!" she said, "don't tell me any more, I was
just starting to believe I got away with it and now I have a picture of you
wiping my bottom. I'll never be able to look you in the eye again." "Calm
down" I said, "you only needed to wee and if it makes you feel any better I
found it quite erotic." "I think I'll give up whilst I'm ahead" she said.
"Listen Eddie, I have a dental appointment at 4pm today do you mind if I
ask Pam to pick up Amy for me?" "No, of course not" I said. "OK, might see
you later" she said and off she went.
That afternoon I got a call from Pam to tell me that her sister had
telephoned from the UK. The letting agents for our house had contacted her
to tell her that the tenants had done a runner. She'd been to the house
and it was in a bit of mess. Pam was upset, the house in the UK had always
been her pride and joy. It was painful having to let it out but apart from
the costs involved there are a hundred reason why you just can't leave a
house empty for 10 years, not least that it's impossible to get insurance.
She also mentioned that Sarah had called earlier and asked to collect Amy
from school. She went on about being put upon and how she wasn't happy
about being burdened with the brat and she asked me not to be late home as
she had a bridge class before her bridge evening and wasn't confident that
Sarah was going to be there by 5pm.
I got home about 4:30. We live in a similar complex of apartments to
Sarah, just a couple of miles away. It consists of 6 blocks each with four
apartments all sharing the gardens and a private pool. We're on the ground
floor. The flat is empty and the patio doors are open. I could see Pam
sitting by the pool reading a book. I changed into shorts and 'T' shirt
and join her.
"Hi, where's Amy?" I said. Raising her head from the book she pointed
to the water. "Hi uncle Eddie!" came a voice from a little wet head
bobbing in the waves. "She was driving me mad," said Pam, "that kid's a
live wire! Can I have this? can I do that? can we go here? can we go
there? So the pool seemed the easiest way to keep her out of my hair."
"What are we doing about the house?" I asked. "Helen is going to call us
this evening with the details." (Helen's Pam's sister).
"Right" she said "I've got to get to my bridge lesson, I've got a new
partner this evening" I looked across the pool and Amy stood on the other
side about to jump in. She's wearing nothing but her white cotton panties
which are looking very limp and which she's pulled up as far as she can so
the front cuts right between the lips of her pussy. "Where's her swim
suit?" I asked my wife as she's leaving. "Where the hell do you think it
is!" she retorted angrily. Across the pool Amy was now pulling herself out
and as she jumped up to get a grip on the sides to pull herself out, the
water drags her panties down her bottom to expose two lovely round globes.
"Amy, come!" I shouted. She ran round to me dripping wet, panties
translucent but to no advantage as the white panties were covering her
white box. "Come sweetheart" let's get you in a dry before your mum
comes."
"Uncle Eddie, can I play some more" she pleaded. "Sorry honey, you're
mother's due her in 5 minutes," I told her as I picked up her clothes and
she ran ahead across the gardens looking for other kids to play with.
"Arghhhh!" she screamed as she dived for the path. We'd had rain
overnight and at this time of year it brings out little green frogs from
somewhere and their hopping all over the gardens.
By the time we got to the flat Pam was just leaving. I got two towels,
one to put round her shoulders and one to dry her. I knelt down in front
of her and put the towels over her shoulders. I took hold of the sides of
her panties. She put her hand on my shoulder to support herself as I
lowered her panties and she stepped out of them. She was chattering away
about the frogs or something whilst I was lost in a dream world gazing at
her beautiful little girl slit, a perfect 'V'. I rubbed her chest with the
towel, across those little pink nipples, my eyes less than 12" away.
"Dry your hair honey," I told her. She raised the shoulder towel over
her head rubbing her hair. I lowered myself to rub her legs dry and at the
same time brought my head and senses closer to her crotch. It was white as
snow, so puffy and smooth. At this range the slit is a little more than a
black line. I could see the detail of where it started with a small
circular depression and fold inwards to form two halves. The distinction
between legs, belly and cunt is pronounced it's an actually triangle with
distinct separation causing the 'V' and a less distinct separation between
cunt and belly as the puffy protuberance disappears into her belly. The
only smell I could get, of course, was chlorine. As dry as she was going
to be, I sent her across the room to get her dress. I watched those
beautiful little globes dance up and down as she skipped across and her
beautiful little pussy as she skipped back. This was what I'd been working
for, the reason I'd been courting her mother, this was my reward.
Just then the phone rang. It was Sarah. "Hi Eddie, I've just finished
at the dentist do you mind if I run quickly to the supermarket to pick up a
few things? I'll be very quick." she said. "No that's fine, I've just
fished Amy out of the pool and she's just getting dressed, I'm sure I can
entertain her for half an hour." Getting back to Amy she was struggling to
pull her school uniform dress over her head. The dress covered her head
her arms raised to pull it down she gives me a full frontal pose of that
exquisite little girl body. I moved and helped her get dressed. No
panties of course, I'd taken those and put them on a chair to dry. I got
Pam's brush from the bedroom and sitting on the couch I pulled Amy onto my
lap facing away from me. With her panty-less crotch squarely placed on my
rigid dick I brushed her hair. I had my legs between hers, her legs
splayed open straddling either side of my legs. I imagined the view from
the other side. She sang away, swinging her legs and wriggling her but
whilst I combed her hair and played with the idea of letting the bell end
of my dick escape over the top of my shorts to make flesh on flesh contact.
This is where a longer dick would proved advantageous Having given up on
that idea I picked her up and spun her round to face me. She now sat on my
lap with her legs either side and folded under her in a sort kneeling
sitting position. I pull her forward and pulling her dress back exposing
her little girl 'V' to my gaze. "What shall we play?" I asked. "Don't
know" she said. "What about - I SPY?" I suggested. "OK" she said, "you go
first" I look round the room for something to spy and this cute kid is
twisting this way and that trying to look where I'm looking so that she
knows where to look when she's has to guess what I've 'spied'. "Hey" I
said "that's cheating, you should close your eyes until I choose." She
covered her eyes with her hands raising her dress a little more. I umm'd
and argh'd supposedly looking for what I choose as my 'eye spy' whilst
using the occasion to visually explore her cunt. "Hey!" she said peeking
through her fingers "you're not supposed to look at my widgy!" "Oh, sorry,"
I said, " thought I saw one of those little green frogs down there!"
"Where?!" she screamed and with that she placed her hands either side of
her crotch and pulled it open and craned her head down searching for a
frog. Her split parted and her labia parted she exposed the pink interior.
Starting at the top I could see a little hooded clit followed by her
urethra set in wet pink flesh, then her hole at the bottom which looked to
be between 1cm and 2cm in diameter. "Where, where?" she shouted. "Ha, ha,
fooled you!" I laughed. Crashing down on my dick she pummelled my chest.
"That's not fair" she screamed. I grabbed her sides and start tickling.
With her little girl giggles she rolled off to the side onto the sofa to
try and escape. My continuous tickling caused her dress to rise over her
chest. Her kicking legs and writhing body giving delicious glimpses of her
love hole and the little pink puckered rose beneath it. I dropped my head
and did a raspberry on her tummy sending her into greater fits of laughter.
Rising up I stopped tickling and broke away. Lowering her dress and
gathering her decency but still lying there. "Do it again!" she ordered.
Once again I launch myself into the tickle and again was rewarded with
exposed pubis, kicking and splayed legs and a slit which looked like it was
winking at me as it opened and closed. Again I stopped for breath. "Do it
again!" she ordered. "Enough!" I said. "Let's get a drink."
Barefooted she followed behind into the kitchen and we stood there
gazing into the fridge looking at what is on offer. Buzz, the intercom
went for me to open the electric security gates; it was Sarah. "Hi," she
said. "Has she been trouble?" "Not for me," I said, "but I don't know
about Pam, she didn't hang around long enough to say, it's her Bridge night
and she has Bridge lesson before the game." "Do you want a drink?" I asked.
"I'd love to stay," she said, "but George will be waiting for his dinner."
She shouted to Amy who's in world of her own chattering to a pretend
person and drinking a pretend drink. Amy bid her good byes to the pretend
person and skipped over to her mum. I retrieved her panties from the
bathroom. Holding the wet panties forward I explained to Sarah, "When I
got here, Pam had her in the pool in her panties." She smiled, "That's more
than she wears in our pool." Amy skipped out to her mum's car, Sarah leaned
in to kiss my cheek and squeezing my hand she whispered, "Thanks again for
last night, I still tingle when I think about it," and off she went.
That night Pam's sister Helen rang. She told us that the tenants had
done a runner after not paying the rent for 3 months and we have squatters
in the house. That's a nightmare scenario for a home owner it can take 6
months to get squatters out and they always wreck the place before leaving.
She said that Dave (her husband), my mate Joe and a few of the lads from
the pub were going to break in at daybreak, beat the living shit out of
them before throwing them out. They've bought new locks and hope to have
them fitted and the place boarded up before the police can get there. Dave
and Joe then intend to sit inside. The lads from the pub will stay outside
to harass the squatters and when it's all quieted down her son will house
sit until we make our minds up on what to do. I discussed the situation
with Pam when she got home and we decided we'd get back ASAP.
The next morning we called Helen and she told us the lads had got into
the house and thrown the squatters out. And so far it was going to plan. I
got on the phone to sort out some flights. I was under contract and
couldn't take more than a week off. I got us on a flight the following
Monday; I got a ticket with a 7 day return and I got Pam an open ticket.
That was the Saturday I cancelled my golf in case Helen called with a
problem. We joined the group for dinner that evening and our squatters
were the main subject of conversation. We flew out mid day Monday flying
via Bangkok and Frankfurt getting back to our home in the UK on the Tuesday
evening. Helen told us that the squatters appeared to have given up and
the police had been brilliant doing all they could within their power to
err on our side.
We went up to our house to find it had been trashed. Pam was in tears.
Pam stayed the night at Helen's whilst I stayed to guard the house. I
spent the remainder of the week throwing money at the place to get it
cleaned up, re-decorated, re-carpeted etc. etc. Of course one week had
only just got work started but at least it was sufficiently clean and tidy
for Pam to move back in which she did, with Helen, before I left to return
to Jakarta.
I got back on Monday evening and dropped in at the golf club to check
what I'd missed. Sarah's husband, George was there so I had a drink and
chat with him before heading home. After a good night's sleep I was back
at my desk on the Tuesday morning. I was rushing round playing catch up
most of the day and had no time to speak to Sarah. I got a call from her
about 5pm.
"Hi Eddie, how are you, how's Pam?" she said. I told her the story
about the house and that Pam had stayed back to sort the place out and find
new tenants. "I missed you," she said. "I've been calling you all day."
"That's nice of you to say that Sarah, it's good to be back, although I
feel a little guilty leaving Pam to sort out that mess." "Do you feel like
joining us for dinner?" she said. "Thanks," I said "But I'm really jet
lagged." "Do you need me to come by one evening and rub your back?" she
said. "That would be nice," I said. "Maybe you could bring George and Amy
with you." "Oh, very funny," she said.
"I had a drink with George last night and he told me that the project in
Surabaya was taking more and more of his time, I think he said he's up
there again next week sometime, perhaps we could get something together
then?" I suggested. "That'd be great!" she said. "He hasn't mentioned it
to me yet, I'll get back to you as soon as he does. Are you playing golf
with George on Saturday?" she asked. "Yes" I said. "And afterwards?" she
asked. "Whatever." I said. "I'll fit in with the group, we'll be going
for a meal somewhere." "OK, see you then!" she said.
George an Sarah were both playing golf on Saturday and it was George's
turn to take Amy. She'd already at the wheel of the golf cart when I
arrive a the club. She interrupted her pretend driving to shout, "Hi,
uncle Eddie!" She was wearing a beige cotton skirt, white top, white socks
and sandals. I put my clubs on the back of the cart alongside George's.
"Where's your dad?" I asked. "He's gone to get the sunscreen lotion," she
said. George was soon back and throwing the sunscreen towards me, he
shouted "Sort her out will you whilst I run over the 9th tee to catch
Sarah."
Standing her in the well of the cart I poured cream onto each arm. "You
rub that in," I said, "whilst I do your legs." Kneeling down, I squirted
some sun screen into my palm, rubbed my hands together and placed a hand
either side of her right leg, I rubbed the cream up her leg right to the
top so that my hand was hidden under her skirt and the outside of my right
index finger is rubbing the inside of her groin and hem of her panties. I
then did the same to her left leg, feeling the hem of her panties and
working it aside to get a feel of her soft little cunnie.
With a giggle "That tickles!" she announced. Removed my hand I lingered
on the thought of sliding my slippy finger between her lips deep into her
little girl hole. "OK, lets see if those arms are done," I said. I then
sat her down and with my fingers I did her face which she contorted as she
closed her eyes as tight as possible for fear of getting cream into them. I
focused on her little pink lips which were little by adult standards but
really quite full for her age. When puberty kicks in, so long as she
doesn't put weight on like her dad, then she's going to be a beauty. I
lingered on her lips playing with the idea of what it would be like to
enfold them in mine and slip my tongue between them.
Then George came back and snapped back to reality, we drove to the 1st
tee. I drove the cart for the first 9 with Amy on my lap. Very erotic but
a constant hard on didn't help my game much. George drove for the back 9
and pissed Amy off as he insisted she sit in the middle. I plied her with
drink all the way round hoping to fill her bladder but I was so hot that
she was sweating out faster than I could get it in. So the sight of the
miracle of nature was also denied me. After the game we sat outside having
a drink whilst Amy played. Sarah joined us and later took herself and Amy
into the ladies showers before we went to dinner. George and I did the
same.
Showers are the bane of our lives ('our' being all of us with little
dicks). It's not so much a problem now but when I was younger I would have
gladly taken a butcher's knife to all those bastards who thought size
equated the machismo. It's not that 5" is remarkably small it's just that
the little bastard seems to know when it's shower time and shrinks back
like a tortoise tucking in its head. I did read somewhere that there's a
name for it but I can't remember what it is. Then there's the donkey dick
guys who spend half their life in the shower room, even down to getting the
waiter to bring their drinks in just so that they can flaunt it. I've
given up trying to hide it away and I join the regular guys making a
statement by walking round naked daring anybody to comment. I wonder
whether those donkey dicks expand five times their shower size when erect.
I think not, because to do so would drain the blood from their brains. I
suspect that they can only turn putty into rubber. Glancing round the room
I note that George always keeps himself well covered. Now that I was
shagging his wife, I'd craned my neck a few times to check out the wedding
tackle to see what I was up against and he always had a towel over it.
And, he entered the shower in his underpants, closed the door and came out
in his underpants. I'm sure I'm the only one who noticed but that's pretty
suspicious behaviour and gave me rise to believe that he must have a George
a little dick too.
We left the club in convoy to our favourite Indonesian restaurant.
There were ten of us counting Amy. George, Amy and Sarah were seated when
I arrived. Sarah caught my eye and patted the empty seat to her left.
Here we go, I thought, she must want a some finger pie. As it happened she
was well behaved and apart from running her foot up and down my leg a few
times that was as far as she took it. At a point in the evening Amy came
and sat on my lap giving me a the chance to stroke her silky thighs for a
while. By now I've gotten myself quite well trained after several next
morning post mortems. What happens is, I get a skin-full down my throat
and my little brain convinces me that because I'm pissed everybody else is,
including Amy and consequently neither she or anybody else would notice if
I slipped my hand inside her panties and stroked her little coochy. Now
although I'm pissed and my little brain is telling me that this is true my
big brain is reminding me of the many mornings afterwards when I have
cringed at things I'd done after a few drinks. Before we left, one of our
friends announced a BBQ a their place for the following afternoon.
The expat life is great if you like a drink, have the constitution to
take it and if you are content to socialise with the same group all the
time. You have a hard core who are at everything and then others at the
fringes but is basically the same people in different gardens or at
different restaurants. The Sunday was at the Peterson's place. They're
Danish; he's something in the Embassy; they live in a house. The house is
in about half and acre of lush gardens surrounded by a high brick wall and
electric fence. They also had a gate-boy who has a rifle and sits in a hut
by the side of the gate; he stands and salutes as you drive it.
There was about 50 people there talking in myriad languages. They did a
spit roast pig. As BBQ's go it was good. Mid evening Sarah came up
alongside me. "Want to take a walk in the garden?" she asked. "What about
George and Amy?" "Amy was tired so George has taken her home. I'm getting
a lift back with the Beesley's, they live in the same complex." She said
Off we wondered into the garden towards a secluded spot in the corner at
the back where there's a pergola. We stop behind the pergola, lock lips
and attempt to insert our respective tongues in each others gullet. "God,
I've missed you" she said.
Whilst I cupped the cheeks of her arse she unzipped my fly and reached
inside. She dropped to her knees and loaded the pork lollipop her mouth.
So much for foreplay!. With my hands on the back of her head I gently
fucked her face. She was good, she knew all the spots to hit. It's not
that there's a lot of skill involved but whatever skill is required she had
in abundance and that was complimented by avid enthusiasm. I wondered what
it was that turned her on so much. Maybe it was the doing it in public
thing. Either way she was deeply committed to sucking my entire inners
through the eye of my dick. Twirling my balls she sucked relentlessly not
missing a beat and showing no signs of tiredness or loss of interest. I
entertained the idea of stopping her before I came and trying a little knee
trembler but couldn't bring myself to pull out of her mouth.
Ah fuck it! I thought, she seemed happy enough. She was trying to get
my bell end down her throat, as she swallowed I could feel her throat
contracting on my helmet. I felt my balls rise and me dick throb. She
recognised the signs and started bobbing her head up and down like a
piston. I felt the first load rise up along the front of my dick and shoot
from the end into the back of her throat. She whimpered as she swallowed
the first load and swallowed quickly in time for the second load which
followed closely. She swallowed and continued to suck like her life
depended on it. She drained my balls and stayed down there until my dick
started to soften. Getting up from her knees we kissed. Yuk, I hate that.
I must try and find the right words to tell her how I like her swallowing
my sponk but I don't want any back and certainly not in my mouth. Her
mouth was empty of sponk but it's just the thought that makes me cringe.
Of course I wouldn't embarrass her so I kissed her deeply. "I enjoyed
that!" she said. "Sarah," I said sincerety, "I am not exaggerating when I
tell you that, when it comes to blow jobs, you are so far ahead of anybody
I have ever known that you make them look pathetic."
She smiled ad kissed me. "I think George is going to Surabaya on
Thursday" she said. "Can we do something on Thursday night? Maybe I can
get Amy a sleep over with one of her friends." "That'll be great" I said
"Give me a call during the week and let me know what's happening." Sarah
walked off and I gave her a few minutes head start before returning to the
party.
To Be Continued