'Back-Door' Love!
by Trina Slade


CHAPTER ONE 

I'd been in my room studying and was unaware that anyone else was in the 
house, much less upstairs. So I stopped short in the bathroom doorway, 
momentarily frozen in amazement at sight of Tommy McKenna jacking off over 
the bathtub. He must've been close to getting his nuts off because his 
fuzzy-cheeked face looked kind of drawn with tension. But he froze too, hand 
still gripping his cock, eyes bugging with surprise at sight of me. 

Then he exclaimed, "I didn't know anyone else was in the house!" 

"What're you doing that for? Wasting it?" I asked. 

"Because I don't like having wet dreams," he declared frankly. "Especially 
not when it's as cold at night as it's been lately. And I didn't know you'd 
be staying with us tonight. I'd a lot rather have you suck me off. You know 
that, Trina." 

"When do you expect your mother home?" 

"Not for another hour. She's got Missionary Society at the church. Will you 
suck me?" Tommy asked hopefully. 

"I've found out about another way you may like better," I told him quickly. 
I stepped on inside the bathroom, closed the door and locked it. I was 
surprised to feel my cunt already beginning to drool with excitement. 

Tommy said, "I think there's only one other, way I'd like better than your 
mouth, Trina. But you said you don't dare do it that way." 

"There's another way I just found out about," I told him in a conspiratorial 
whisper. "I caught Ed Sands, my father's foreman, doing it to Mrs. Miller, 
our cook, the other day. They thought I'd be staying here that night instead 
of driving clear out home, so I wasn't expected when I walked in and 
surprised them." 

"What other way is there?" Tommy asked. 

"You'll see," I told him with a superior, mysterious air. "Just get your 
pants off while I get ready." 

I went to the cupboard under the washbowl, got out an enema syringe, and 
filled it with soapy, warm water. Then I stepped out of my panties. Tommy 
had his pants off already. He stood watching every move I made, wide-eyed, 
with excitement, curiosity, and wonder mingled in his expression. I threw my 
panties in his face, giggling, and told him, "Sniff the crotch in those for 
a minute until I'm ready." 

Ordinarily Tommy probably would've, but right then he was too busy watching 
what I was doing. I smeared a little Vaseline on the end of the syringe, 
then put it up my asshole and squeezed the bulb empty. 

"What're you doing?" Tommy asked. 

"Mrs. Miller told me it's best to wash everything out good first before you 
do it this way," I explained. I sat down on the toilet stool and expelled 
the first syringe load of water. 

While I was wiping myself, Tommy asked incredulously, "You mean you're gonna 
have me put it in you... there?" 

He tickled me, him and his preacher's son hangups about certain words. I 
teased, "You wouldn't say 'Shit!' if you had a whole mouthful, would you? 
Shithole! Asshole! That's the word you want, not 'there'!" 

"Rectum!" Tommy exclaimed, his lips twisting a little with a distasteful 
expression. "You expect me to put my thing in your... rectum?" 

"Not your 'thing'," I corrected as I squeezed the bulb of the syringe, 
shooting the second load of sudsy water up into my lower bowel, "your stiff 
cock! Your dick! Your dong! Your prick! Your joint! Your tally whacker! Your 
pud! Your joystick! But not your 'thing'." 

"My penis," Tommy said with that same little twist still on his lips. "You 
want me to put my penis in your rectum?" 

"Not if you don't want to," I told him with a shrug and sat down on the 
stool to get rid of that second rinse. I added, "Mrs. Miller says Ed Sands 
likes putting it in her ass better'n he does in her cunt. And she likes it 
better because she doesn't have to worry about him maybe getting her 
pregnant. But if you don't want to try it, forget it! Go ahead and jack 
off." 

"You won't suck me off?" Tommy asked whiningly. 

"A guy who's afraid to ever even try something new doesn't deserve--" I 
interrupted myself, demanding, "You think your cock's too nice to put in my 
asshole, do you? But you don't think my mouth's too nice to put your cock 
in, I've noticed!" 

"I'll try it!" Tommy exclaimed quickly. "Don't get mad at me, Trina. 
Please?" 

I wiped myself again and stood up as I told him, "Then get ready." 

"Get ready?" he echoed. "What do I do?" 

"Put a coat of Vaseline all over your cock," I instructed. I picked up the 
jar from the side of the washbasin and lifted a gob of it out on one finger, 
then handed the jar to him. 

Tommy was ready before I was. Now that he'd had a minute to get used to the 
idea a little, he'd lost that look of distaste about his mouth completely. 

I wiped the excess Vaseline off my finger on a wad of toilet paper, then 
bent over, my clothes pulled up, my ass bared to him. Tommy moved in quickly 
behind me. He gripped my hips with both hands with no need of instructions 
from me. His breathing had become ragged with excitement. 

I wasn't exactly calm myself. My cunt actually felt like it was burning. 
That's where I really would've liked to have felt Tommy's hardness starting 
into me. But my old father was hung up about making sure his daughter kept 
her maidenhead. Regardless of the pretext he used, I knew the real reason he 
insisted on having the doctor give me a physical examination about every six 
months. He'd started that when I was about twelve. I wasn't too long 
figuring out that what old dad really was interested in having the doctor 
check out was whether or not my hymen was still intact. 

That it was still there when I was twelve had been a miracle, considering 
the tomboy way I grew up, astride a horse most of the time. But it had been 
there that first time he had the doctor check me out because I heard him ask 
and heard the doctor tell him. At the time I didn't pay any attention, but 
later I added things up when the rechecks became so regular. So I'd never 
dared let a boy even finger me too much, much less shove a stiff cock up my 
cunt. 

I felt the head of Tommy's stiff cock begin pressing against my 
Vaseline-coated asshole. Through his hands gripping my hips I could feel him 
trembling with eagerness. I tried to make the muscles in me there relax; 
instead they grabbed, tensing up involuntarily. Tommy eased off quickly. 

"Shove it to me!" I snapped at him. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered 
breathlessly. 

"I'll yell if you hurt me!" I promised. 

"I don't want you to yell; someone might hear you," he hissed at me 
instantly. 

"What're you whispering about?" I taunted. 

"There's no one else in the house. Remember? And I won't yell loud enough 
for anyone outside to hear. Now shove it to me!" 

Tommy shoved it to me! What a sensation! Was I ever thankful that Tommy's 
twelve-year-old cock was no thicker than it was. With all the Vaseline 
greasing the way and everything, it still felt like he was splitting my ass 
wide open. For an instant I wondered if all the instructions Mrs. Miller had 
given me had just been her way of getting even for the nasty surprise I'd 
given her and Ed by walking in on them. But then the protesting muscles 
guarding the entrance to my ass began to relax as Tommy started thrusting in 
and out of me. Suddenly it started feeling good. I could feel the head of 
his stiff cock stroking back and forth inside me and it felt almost like he 
was in my burning cunt. I decided maybe Mrs. Miller hadn't given me a bum 
steer after all. I put one hand to my pussy; I found it sopping wet with the 
slippery juice that comes from my cunt when it gets excited. I coated two of 
my fingers with it, then began petting my clitoris with them. Geronimo! Talk 
about sensation! That made Tommy's cock in my asshole feel really great to 
me. I began wiggling my ass a little and humping back against him. 

Tommy had stopped worrying about hurting me. He was beginning to hammer his 
nail into my ass with growing enthusiasm. Over and over again he was saying, 
"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!" Every time he hit me with a new thrust, he 
said, "Oh boy!" again. And he wasn't whispering now. He was more like 
gasping or panting. And then that began sounding more like moaning. 

Of course by then I was doing some moaning of my own. It was really 
beginning to feel great to me. I finally was getting an idea just how great 
it must feel to get fucked in the cunt. This still wasn't the real thing, 
but I knew it was the next best thing. I'd had my cunt licked a few times 
until I came, but I began feeling certain this was going to wind up giving 
me a far greater sensation. 

My hand was wet with the slippery, hot juice drooling out of my tingling 
pussy. I'd never felt anything before like the charge of excitement that was 
building throughout my whole lower belly; even my tits were burning. I found 
myself wishing there was some way Tommy could keep on doing what he was 
doing and at the same time be sucking my tingling tits. Great Caesar's 
ghost, as my father always said, what a feeling! What a feeling! 

Suddenly I just couldn't seem to stand any more of it; my whole lower belly 
began pulsating with frantically pumping muscles. I was coming like I'd 
never come before! Coming, coming, coming! I heard someone yelling, thought 
it was Tommy, then with a start of surprise realized it was me. But just 
about then Tommy began yelling. Not loud. It came out of him in short, 
explosive gasps. But it was a yell. And I could feel the pumping of his cock 
within the tight grip of my asshole as he came. He still didn't shoot any 
discharge that amounted to anything like older boys, but his pump worked 
just as hard and he seemed to enjoy it just as much. 

Then right in the middle of that cyclone of great sensation, someone began 
hammering on the bathroom door and Mrs. McKenna's anxious voice called, 
"Tommy? Is that you in there, Tommy? Tommy, what's going on?" 

Behind me, Tommy froze. He was like he'd suddenly turned to stone. It was 
probably just as well. I called, "It's not Tommy, Mrs. Mc-Kenna. It's me!" 

"Trina? What on earth are you doing, child?" 

Wheels spun in my head, then without even time for conscious thought I was 
calling back, "I was taking an enema and I didn't get the water quite the 
right temperature and Great Caesar! what a surprise that gave me!" 

"You're all right then?" 

"I'm all right," I assured her. "But I'll never do that again! Next time 
I'll give the bulb just a little squeeze, make sure the temperature's right 
before I give it a big, hard squeeze." 

"Do you know where Tommy is?" 

"Gosh, no, I really don't," I called innocently. I was getting over the 
scare she'd given me at first. Suddenly as I was telling his mother I had no 
idea where he was, I gave my ass a wiggle against his still rigid cock. I 
had to pull the hand away from my pussy and clap it over my mouth to 
suppress a giggle. 

There was silence for a moment. I expect her woman's intuition was probably 
trying to tell her something, but fortunately Mrs. McKenna was pretty 
innocent and not as suspicious as the mothers of some kids I've known. 
Finally she called, "If Tommy does come home while I'm gone, will you please 
tell him to stay home until I get back? I've got to run to the store and get 
some things for supper. And I hope you didn't hurt yourself. Maybe I should 
call the doctor and have him examine you ? You sounded like you were in real 
pain." 

"No, no," I called, sudden alarm flashing through me at her suggestion of 
calling the doctor. "I'm fine, believe me. If I'd known someone else was in 
the house, I'd never have made a sound. I thought I was all alone, so I just 
sort of turned loose and yelled because I didn't think it mattered. But I'm 
all right, really. And I'll tell Tommy." 

CHAPTER TWO 

My cunt was still a virgin, technically speaking, as I've already told you, 
when I started my freshman year at County High School in our county seat 
town, Medicine Hat, Wyoming. So when other girls were sharing stories about 
their sexual adventures, I just sat and listened and burned. Some of them 
had started sexual explorations while they'd been little kids in grade 
school. But not me! It takes help to have real sexual experience. 

My prospects of getting any of that help in high school soon began looking 
just as nonexistent as they'd been at the little country grade school I'd 
attended. Other girls had gotten their first fuck in the school horsebarn, 
but never me. 

My father was the reason. He'd been an old man when he married my mother, 
but there'd been nothing feeble about the reputation he carried as a 
dangerous man to cross. My mother'd died birthing me and fourteen more years 
had passed, but my father's reputation was just as impressive as ever. While 
I was in the seventh grade, he'd put a hay hand forty years younger than he 
was into the hospital, on the critical list for several days, even though 
the younger man outweighed Father by nearly one hundred pounds. And the 
rustlers he caught on his range never were lucky enough to just wind up in 
the hospital; they always went to the morgue. 

Oh, I had plenty of dates after I got to high school. I don't mean to even 
imply that I was a wallflower, because I'm pretty, if I do say so myself. 
And I've been assured by many fellows that I'm a lot of fun to be around. 
All I'm saying is that all the fellows who took me out were always as proper 
in the way they treated me as if Father had been right there in the car with 
us. 

That's the way things were when we got the first heavy snow of that fall. 
I'd been driving back and forth from home to school and back each day, 
nearly one hundred miles round trip. But as happens many times in Wyoming, 
that first storm of the season was a big one. The roads were closed before 
school ever let out. 

Father phoned me at school; he'd made arrangements for me to room and board 
with the preacher's family on a regular basis until spring. I could drive 
back and forth from home whenever the weather permitted, but he'd arranged 
to pay Mrs. McKenna a flat rate, whether I stayed in the room and took my 
meals with her family or not. 

I won't pretend Father's arrangement thrilled me. The McKennas were new in 
the community, but I knew their only son was a kid two years younger than I 
was. He was more than a head taller than I, but the difference in age put 
him in the shrimp class in my book. 

However, Tommy McKenna turned out to be a pleasant surprise. Even though he 
was younger, when I got stuck on a math problem, I discovered Tom could show 
me how to solve it like it was simple arithmetic. 

That mind of Tom's, plus the way he was built, made it easy for me to forget 
how much younger he was. Other things about him pleased me, too, like the 
way I'd catch him staring at my breasts sometimes when neither his father or 
mother were around. Before long there began being more and more times when I 
could completely forget there was any difference in our ages. 

But nothing might have ever come of it if an unexpected storm hadn't 
marooned Tom's parents in Cheyenne one day. The weather had been so good I'd 
been driving back and forth from the ranch for several days, so I didn't 
know they were out of town. Before school let out, however, it was storming, 
and I knew Father wouldn't want me trying to make the drive to the ranch. So 
I drove to the parsonage instead. When I opened the garage door to put my 
car away, I had a premonition. The preacher's car was often gone when I got 
back from high school, but this time I suddenly knew something was 
different. A wild, thrilling surge of strange hope flashed through me. 

Tom opened the door of the house to me. Obviously he had been waiting there, 
watching for me. He took the load of books out of my arms and stood holding 
them while I shook off the snow. His eyes seemed strangely bright, strangely 
full of yearning, strangely hopeful, strangely excited. He went to put my 
books on the kitchen table while I closed the door from the back porch. We 
turned back to each other at the same instant. That bright look of 
excitement in his eyes had grown even brighter. 

I smiled and asked, "What's on your mind, Tom?" He liked it because I'd 
started calling him Tom instead of Tommy, like his mother and father and 
nearly everyone else did. It seemed to help him feel I'd come to accept him 
as more than just a little boy. His eyes thanked me every time I did it; 
they thanked me now. 

Then he asked, "You're staying here tonight?" 

That same strange thrill I'd felt in the garage flashed through me again. It 
left me feeling a little breathless. I said, "Of course. Why?" 

"My parents may not be able to get back home, the way it's storming," Tom 
told me, obviously feeling that was exciting news. "They went to a church 
meeting in Cheyenne. We'll more than likely be here all alone together." 

I said, "You could call one of the church ladies and ask her to come stay 
with us, if you'd like." 

"What about you?" he demanded instantly. 

"Is that what you'd rather for me to do?" 

"I didn't say that." 

He frowned, suddenly looking troubled. "That's exactly the kind of thing my 
mother may do, if the phone lines from Cheyenne are still up. I hope they 
aren't." 

"Why don't you try to place a call to the hotel or wherever they planned to 
stay?" I suggested. "You'll soon find out that way." 

Five minutes later Tom turned from the phone, a strange look of vast relief 
on his face. He murmured, in an imitation of an operator's voice, "I'm 
sorry, sir; all lines to Cheyenne are temporarily out of order." 

We exchanged a knowing smile, as if we'd both planned this whole thing. In 
our imaginations perhaps we had. 

Suddenly I realized I was still standing there in my heavy coat. I started 
to take it off and Tom came to me from the phone, moving very quickly, to 
help me with it. He was still only a kid, despite his size, but he had the 
manners of a real gentleman. That was one of the things I'd gotten to really 
like about him; the way he always treated me made me feel like someone 
really special. 

I also knew, however, that because of that same genteel way of his, if 
anything exciting was ever to happen between us two, I'd have to be the 
aggressor. Suddenly I couldn't wait to start aggressing. 

When Tom turned back to me from hanging my coat up in the kitchen closet, I 
smiled and wrinkled my nose at him as I murmured, "I've always envied 
married people when the weather's like this." 

"What do you mean?" Tom asked, sounding breathless. 

"It's so blamed cold, having to sleep alone on a night like tonight's going 
to be," I said in what I hoped was a sexy-sounding whisper. "Do you ever 
think about... that?" 

Tom looked surprised. He swallowed hard. Then he nodded, looking 
self-conscious, and admitted, "Sometimes I don't seem able to think about 
anything else." He blushed and looked at the floor suddenly. Yes, he knew 
exactly what I'd meant. 

I asked, "Do you like me, Tom?" 

He swallowed hard again. He glanced up at me, instantly started to look 
away, then caught himself. With obvious effort he forced himself to look 
back directly at me as he told me, "Better than I've ever liked anyone else 
in my whole life before." 

"You haven't minded, having to help me with my homework?" I persisted. "You 
don't sometimes think I'm too stupid to be exciting?" 

"Lord, no!" Tom exclaimed in an explosive gasp. Then his eyes seemed to be 
drawn downward from my face to my full breasts, like steel being drawn to a 
magnet. I might have been only fourteen, but I had a pair of boobs that 
already had caused many grown women to give me secret looks of envy. 

I raised my hands, cupping my breasts in them. Then I asked, "Do you like 
the way I look... here?" 

Tom gulped. He seemed unable to speak. He nodded emphatically. 

"Would you like to see me? Really see me... here?" I wiggled my breasts back 
and forth slightly. I felt my nipples start to pucker; they grew hard with 
excitement. 

A low, sighing moan came from Tom. "Would I ever!" he murmured. "I lay awake 
nights wondering how you'd really look... naked." He blushed again and 
looked down at the floor, sounding almost desperate to get the words out as 
he added, "I'll bet all of you... is as beautiful... as your face and eyes 
and hair... and all." 

"Would you like to see?" 

Again he nodded emphatically, as if his throat felt paralyzed and mute. 

I reached up under the pullover sweater I was wearing, hands behind my back, 
and unhooked my bra. Then I walked over to Tom. I put my back against his 
front, lifted his hands, and cupped them around my sweater-covered boobs. He 
found his voice and breathlessly murmured, "Oh, boy!" 

I had a devilish impulse; I rubbed my ass back and forth, slowly, against 
his crotch. I could distinctly feel the rigid lump his hard penis was 
raising in the front of his pants. Another gasping, "Oh, boy!" came out of 
him. 

I then took one of his hands and moved it under my sweater. Under my loose 
bra. When I cupped it around my naked breast, I felt Tom begin to tremble. 
Innocently I murmured, "Don't you like the way that feels?" 

There was a strangled sound in it now as again Tom gasped, "Oh, boy!" 

I let him stand there holding my naked boob for a moment. He was trembling 
harder the longer he held it. Finally I whispered, "What's wrong, 
sweetheart?" 

Tom's lips were almost against my left ear.' His breath upon my ear was 
strangely exciting as he murmured tensely, "I feel like... I'm going to... 
explode... or something!" 

I pressed my ass back into him harder. I began twisting my hips again, 
making my ass rub back and forth against Tom's hard cock. Suddenly a 
strangled cry came out of him. His arms and hands clutched me, pulling me 
against him even harder. His hips began a series of fast, hard, thrusting 
movements. 

I was new to this game too, but I knew instantly what had happened; I'd 
teased poor Tom so much he was coming in his pants! Just the thought of what 
was happening to him sent a wave of passion roaring through me like nothing 
I'd ever felt before. It was the greatest feeling I'd ever experienced. 

I was still so green about things sexual that I really didn't know exactly 
what I did have down there between my legs; whatever it was, I suddenly felt 
it begin drooling, a strange flow of hot juices oozing from it into my 
panties. My whole crotch area seemed to be burning up with a yearning, 
hungry kind of excitement. Now I started trembling, exactly like I'd felt 
Tom trembling. 

As abruptly as he'd started it. Tom stopped thrusting against my ass; his 
arms and hands suddenly relaxed too. I turned, looking up into his face. He 
turned his face away, looking ashamed. 

"What's wrong, darling?" I whispered. "Don't laugh at me, please, Trina," he 
muttered. 

"Why on earth would I laugh? Didn't that feel good?" 

"Oh, boy!" Tom exclaimed. "Did it ever!" 

"Will you help me do it too?" I made my voice sound slightly pleading. 

That brought Tom's eyes back to mine. He stared at me unbelievingly for an 
instant, then demanded, "What?" 

"I want to do what you just did," I said eagerly. "Will you please help me?" 

Obviously amazed, Tom demanded, "You don't think I acted like some dumb 
little kid?" 

"I can't wait to do the same thing," I insisted. "Will you please help me?" 

Suddenly Tom's whole face lit up with the biggest, most relieved smile I've 
ever seen. "Oh, boy!" he exclaimed. 

I raised my sweater and my bra with it until my naked breasts were revealed 
to his bugging eyes. "Kiss and suck them for me, please?" I murmured. "I 
think that'll make me do it like you just did." 

"Oh, boy!" Tom exclaimed explosively and licked his lips, obviously filled 
with a sudden, burning hunger. "Oh, boy!" he repeated, starting to sink into 
a crouch before me to bring his lips down to the level of my excited 
nipples. 

But I had a sudden inspiration. "Let's go in on the sofa," I suggested and 
turned toward the swinging door to the front of the house. Mutely Tom 
followed as I led the way. 

As we went to the front room, I glanced outside through the windows we 
passed; the snow was falling so heavily outside that visibility had been cut 
to a few feet beyond the windows. When we reached the front room, I found 
the two big trees near the front sidewalk were hardly visible; the street 
beyond them had disappeared, swallowed up in the white void of falling snow. 

Now I'll make no pretense that I'd ever felt particularly wild about seeing 
a blizzard picking up momentum. I never had. Never before. But this was 
different. Now the sight of that worsening storm outside made me almost sing 
for joy. No one would be interrupting my explorations into the mysteries and 
wonders of sex. Because of that wonderful storm outside, all my dreaming and 
wondering about it, all my curiosity and frustration caused by it, was about 
to become part of the past. At long last I had my chance to find out what 
sex was all about. 

Reaching the comfortable front room sofa, I turned to glance behind. Tom was 
following me eagerly. I said, "The storm seems to be getting worse. Aren't 
we lucky?" 

"Do you really think so?" he asked breathlessly. 

"What?" I asked in surprise. 

"I thought you'd probably think I was terrible if you knew how long I've 
been wishing for something like this," Tom told me rather sheep- ishly. 

I cupped my breasts in my hands again as I told him teasingly, "I think 
you're so terrible I'm going to smother you between these. Doesn't that 
frighten you?" 

"Oh, boy! "Tom gulped. 

I let myself slump down upon the sofa and held my arms up to him, wagging my 
fingers as I told him, "Come to me, lover man." 

Tom fell to his knees on the floor just in front of the sofa, reached for 
both my breasts with his hands, then hesitated. "I still can't believe it," 
he murmured. 

I pulled my sweater and bra up again and thrust my naked breasts out at him 
proudly as I whispered, "Feeling is believing. Believe it!" 

"Oh, boy!" Tom said again in a strangled voice. Then his unsure but hungry 
hands cupped themselves around my breasts. I felt my nipples grow harder in 
response to his touch. My whole body seemed to suddenly be tingling. I felt 
very warm and very happy and breathlessly excited. 

"Kiss them," I whispered, putting my hands on Tom's curly-haired head. "Suck 
them and love them and show them you really like them." 

Tom's lips and throat moved, but no sound came. Suddenly he thrust his face 
forward, burying it between my breasts. Then his head turned slightly and I 
felt his feverish lips close hungrily upon my left nipple and suck it into 
his mouth greedily. A groan burst out of me as a flood of sensation like I'd 
never felt before roared through me. My fingers clutched his hair. 

"Oh, boy!" I gasped. Now I was doing it too. Breathing raggedly I asked, 
"Can you do both of them together?" 

Tom's gentle hands pressed my breasts close together, then his fantastic 
lips were drawing both my nipples into his hot mouth, his tongue licking 
between them and around them eagerly. I'd never felt anything like it 
before. It wasn't just twice as good as when he'd merely been caressing one 
nipple. The sensation was four times as intense, or more. My blood suddenly 
seemed like streams of fire rushing through my body. Tom's words flashed 
back through my mind, I feel like I'm going to explode... or something! 
That's exactly how I was feeling now. Like I was going to explode or die or 
something! It felt so good. But with it came an almost overwhelming need to 
feel him between my legs. 

Abruptly I pushed Tom away. He stared at me, eyes wide with surprise and 
sudden fear, then gasped, "Did I hurt you?" 

"Lay down on the floor!" I gasped, too filled with excitement and urgency to 
take any time explaining. 

Tom flopped over on the floor and stretched out. Before his legs were 
straightened, I was astraddle him. I leaned over him, swinging my shoulders 
so that my nipples brushed back and forth across his lips. He raised his 
hands, caught my breasts between them, and sucked both nipples back into his 
hungry mouth. I groaned and thrust down against him, slamming my lower body 
against his, rubbing them together. 

That did it! My body seemed to be on fire. A strange, delightful pressure 
was skyrocketing within my lower body. Then it burst! My senses reeled. I 
felt I was on the verge of blacking out. In the far distance, it seemed, I 
heard someone crying and moaning; then I abruptly realized it was me. 

Finally the whirlwind of sensation quieted and slowly ebbed away, leaving me 
feeling weak and slightly disorientated. Faintly I heard Tom's voice asking 
anxiously, "Did you like that?" 

I had to try three times before I could make the muscles of my throat 
respond properly to utter just one word, "Wonderful!" I was breathless, 
gasping. 

"It really felt good?" he persisted. 

I nodded wearily and repeated, "Wonderful!" 

"The way you yelled, I got scared it was hurting," Tom declared. 

"Wonderful!" I murmured again, then slumped forward on top of him and let 
myself roll loosely off him to the floor beside him. I lay there as limp as 
a sack of meal, struggling for breath like I'd been running. 

After a few moments I suddenly felt Tom's uncertain hand touch me lightly on 
the bare skin of my inner thigh above my hose; I realized my skirt must be 
hiked up around my hips, but the wonderful thing was that it didn't matter. 
And another amazing and wonderful thing was that instead of being numb, 
after all the sensation I'd just enjoyed, I found the touch of his hand 
there felt surprisingly good. I knew if his hand caressed me there just a 
little it would begin building a fresh charge of that terrific excitement 
within me. I moaned softly. 

That seemed to encourage Tom. His hand began rubbing the inside of my thigh 
slowly, moving slowly higher. Then his wonderful, searching fingertips 
touched my crotch, only the sheer material of my panties between his 
caressing fingers and my hot, wet flesh. I gasped, then let my sharply drawn 
breath sigh slowly out in a low moan. 

"You're sopping wet," Tom declared in a surprised tone. "Do girls spurt 
stuff like guys do when they get older?" 

"I don't know what girls or guys do," I whispered. "This is the first time I 
ever did anything like this." 

"Me too," Tom said, "but I know when a guy gets just a little older than I 
am, he starts shooting stuff when he comes. Some of the older guys at school 
tell about having jacking-off contests... seeing which one can shoot stuff 
the farthest." 

"You don't shoot stuff?" I asked, my breathing finally beginning to quiet. 

"Not yet," Tom said. "But I think the feeling I get is just as neat as what 
older guys say they get." 

All the time he had kept on gently petting my sensitive crotch. Sensation 
was really beginning to billow up again within me, and feverish excitement 
with it. I thrust upward with my hips against Tom's gentle hand, then 
sighed, "That's marvelous." 

"What?" 

"That you don't shoot stuff," I told him. "Why?" Tom wondered. 

"We won't have to worry about you making me pregnant, silly." 

"You mean you'll let me--" Tom broke off as if afraid to put his hope into 
words. 

"Don't you want to?" I teased. 

"Oh, boy!" Tom exclaimed, as if other words were beyond him just then. His 
now not so gentle hand was rubbing my crotch with almost frantic speed, as 
if it was something he had set into motion, then forgotten as the spell of a 
greater fascination seized him. But it felt good. I gave another upward 
thrust with my hips against his hand. 

"I'm ready whenever you are," I told him. 

"I'm ready!" Tom exclaimed instantly. He jerked his hand away from my 
crotch, grabbed the top of his trousers with one hand, the zipper of his fly 
with the other, and jerked the zipper down. The weary languor I'd felt only 
a moment before had vanished. I reached down, hooked my thumbs in the top of 
my panties, and skinned them downward over my hips and on off my legs. Then 
I fell back upon the rug, spread my legs invitingly wide, and closed my 
eyes, waiting expectantly while Tom got his pants and shorts off. 

CHAPTER THREE 

I felt so filled with happiness and excitement I thought I might just start 
to float away if Tom didn't hurry and get on top of me to hold me down. What 
was taking him so damned long? I opened my eyes to find out. Tom was 
standing over me, his pants and shorts dropped around his knees, his eager 
young cock thrust out proudly rigid before him looked beautifully ready. But 
he was frowning, a strange look in his eyes. 

"What the hell's wrong?" I snapped. "What're you waiting for? I feel so hot 
I can't stand it!" 

"But what about--" Tom broke off uncertainly. 

"What about what?" I demanded impa- tiently. 

"If your father finds out? What'll he do to me?" 

I'd wondered whether or not the McKennas had been in town long enough yet to 
have heard about my father's reputation. It was obvious' now that they had. 

"Isn't he liable to cut my thing off and skin me alive?" Tom persisted. 
"Maybe even kill me?" 

I groaned in disappointement. I wanted to cuss Tommy out for being a 
gutless, snot-nosed kid. But fair's fair and not one of the boys I'd dated 
since school began had ever gone as far with me as Tom had this afternoon. 

But I was still too filled with disappointment to be kind about it. I 
snapped, "All right! If you're afraid to fuck it, then kiss it, damn you! 
There's no way my father can ever find out if all you do is kiss it and lick 
it good for me!" 

I scrambled up off the floor, rushed to the sofa, and threw myself on it 
with my ass out on the very edge of the cushion and my legs spread wide, 
naked and inviting, my clothes pulled up above my hips. I was ready. But Tom 
just stood staring like he'd turned to stone. I snapped, "Well?" 

"Kiss it?" Tom murmured, his voice small and tight. 

"Yes, kiss it, damn it!" I demanded. 

"But you pee through that, don't you?" 

"Maybe you think I don't wash myself off and wipe good every time after I 
pee?" I answered. "Maybe you think I'm too filthy dirty for you to even 
touch?" 

"I don't think anything like that!" Tom cried, his anguished-sounding words 
rushing from him. "You're beautiful and sweet and--" 

"Then kiss me, damn it!" I yelled at him. "Kiss me and lick me and love me 
and send me to heaven with your tongue, if you're afraid to use your cock!" 

Tom fell to the floor between my legs upon his knees, his eyes looking 
glazed, like someone who had been hypnotized. Without further hesitation, he 
thrust his face straight into the curly bush of my pubic hair and blindly 
started kissing the hair. He knew even less about what was hidden under that 
curly muff than I did, but he was my obedient slave, trying his best to do 
what I'd ordered. 

I opened my legs even wider, craning my neck to look down at that bush Tom 
was kissing. I saw the curly foliage separate and a steaming valley open in 
the forest. Tom paused in his blind kissing, staring in amazement at this 
revelation I'd opened before his very eyes. Suddenly he glanced up at me, 
his eyes wide with wonder. He murmured, "You smell beautiful! Delicious! Is 
that what I ought to kiss and lick?" 

"Try it," I urged. "I don't know. No one ever did anything like this to me 
before." 

Tom smiled suddenly, looking eager and delighted. "I'm so glad!" he 
exclaimed. "You tell me where it feels good. I'll kiss you and lick you and 
love you anywhere you want. You just tell me." 

"I'll tell you, I'll tell you!" I promised. I felt like I might vanish in a 
cloud of smoke if he didn't get his mouth on that mysterious slit of mine to 
cool it off. 

But when Tom's lips and tongue touched the burning lips of my bare cunt, 
they just got hotter! I'd never felt anything like it. .Suddenly I felt real 
fear I might be blasting right out of my mind, there was such an 
overwhelming tidal wave of sensation roaring through me. Almost before I 
knew what was happening, all the muscles throughout my entire lower belly 
were pulsating frantically as I began coming so hard it seemed to me it 
surely would tear my body apart. But if it killed me, I knew I was going to 
die supremely happy. I didn't make a single move to stop the wonderful 
things Tom's lips and tongue were doing to me down there. If death was the 
price, I was willing, eager, and ready to pay in full, just so long as he 
didn't stop doing what he was doing as long as I still had any remaining 
sense of feeling. 

It was wild and wonderful and unbelievable! It went on and on and on, 
seeming to get even more intense the longer it lasted. My senses were 
reeling. I seemed to begin slipping in and out of consciousness. Then 
abruptly Tom stopped, jerking his head up, taking his wonderful mouth and 
tongue away from my trembling cunt. I tried to scream, but my throat was so 
constricted with my passion that only a whisper came as I protested, "Don't 
stop!" 

Then I heard the squeaking crunch of footsteps on the snow-covered front 
porch steps. Tom went scrambling toward the kitchen, pulling up his shorts 
and pants as he went. I started after him, remembered my discarded panties, 
and scrambled back to grab them frantically. Feet were stamping upon the 
porch. I saw the front doorknob turning. I was caught! But the door was 
locked, fortunately. As a key rattled in the lock, I made it through the 
swinging door into the kitchen. 

.I found Tom jerking his pants zipped closed. He glanced up at me, eyes 
frightened, and whispered, "What'll we do?" 

"Go wash your face in cold water," I snapped urgently. "Pretend like you've 
just been using the bathroom. Act just like you would any other time." 

I grabbed my schoolbooks from the kitchen table and scooted up the 
backstairs on tiptoe to the room I used. As I reached the head of the 
stairs, the front door slammed downstairs, then Tom's mother called 
cheerfully, "Are you home, Tommy?" 

As if her call was a cue, a sound came of the downstairs toilet being 
flushed, followed by Tom's surprised call, "Is that you, Mother?" 

I crept on to the door of my room, opened it carefully, slipped inside and 
closed it behind me. Then I had to hurry to the bed and drop my books on it 
before I dropped them on the floor. I sat down, feeling spent physically but 
charged emotionally. Charged with frustration and fury. Everything had 
seemed so perfect. What had gone wrong? 

Then in the distance I heard the wail of a train whistle and knew what had 
happened. When she couldn't get through to one of the church ladies on the 
phone, Tom's mother had taken the train home. Silently I cursed her. 

CHAPTER FOUR 

I'd never realized a physical need could be so intense as the need I felt 
just to touch Tom again as we sat across the table from each other eating 
supper. His mother was babbling on about their trip to Cheyenne and about 
the sudden fury of the unexpected storm. Whenever she left the table, 
turning her back on us, I thrust one of my knees forward under the table as 
far as I could to briefly touch one of Tom's. I could tell by the look in 
his eyes he felt the need as intensely as I did, but each time he shook his 
head, eyes fixed fearfully upon his mother's back. 

Finally when she stepped into the pantry to get some cookies to go with the 
pudding she'd made for dessert, Tom hissed, "I'll see you later. When 
Mother's asleep!" 

"You don't have nerve enough," I hissed back. 

That brought a sudden bright flash of hurt to his eyes. A glint of anger 
followed it almost immediately as he snapped, "You'll see!" 

There hadn't been time for what I'd said to have been premeditated, but I 
realized I'd stung his pride. The smoldering frustration still weighing 
heavily within me began to feel a little lighter. I began remembering the 
sweet ecstasy the feeling of Tom's sweet mouth created, filling my hungry 
inner emptiness. I began feeling feverish and excited just thinking about 
it. Mingled with that was a growing hopefulness, an expectancy; he'd 
virtually promised I could expect a visit from him in my bedroom just as 
soon as his mother was sleeping soundly. 

The weight of smoldering frustration suddenly gave way completely before a 
bubbling feeling of joyful excitement that had me wanting to jump up from 
the table to skip and yell and sing. I felt so full of high spirits it 
seemed I might burst, and that reminded me sharply of that other kind of 
deliciously uncontainable pressure and the tidal wave of its bursting. The 
clean panties I'd put on grew as saturated with the hot juices of my inner 
excitement as the other pair had when Tom was kissing my nipples, I got up 
abruptly, excused myself quickly and hurried upstairs to my room, afraid 
Tom's mother might see the flush I knew had come to my cheeks. I didn't want 
anything raising suspicions in her mind that might keep her from dropping 
off to sleep just as quickly as possible. She always complimented my good 
judgment when I passed up sweets and desserts, so I knew she'd think nothing 
special about my leaving the table at that point in the meal. And who needed 
sweets to eat when they had a promise of the sweet ecstasy I was now looking 
forward to? Not me! It was a wild, wonderful feeling. 

I couldn't just sit and wait while the evening hours dragged out; I knew 
that would only make them endless. So I tried to settle myself to my 
homework, but my mind seemed to have room in it for thoughts of only one 
thing. I fought to block out thoughts of Tom and of my sexual excitement and 
of my frustrated fury when his mother made her unexpected appearance; but 
they kept slipping back to play through my mind again and again like broken 
records. 

Finally I gave up the battle, slipped my clothes off, and got into bed. For 
a few minutes I had no problem with my mind; the cold of those sheets 
against my nude body washed it clean of everything except awareness of that 
cold. I wrapped myself into a tight knot and lay huddled under the covers 
until my body heat began to drive the cold away. 

I lay there in the dark quiet of my room listening to the low wail of the 
snow-filled wind outside and to the sounds inside the house, coming from 
downstairs. It was an ideal night to be very close to another warm human 
being, to be held in his arms and to hold him. Instead of the frustrated 
fury I had first felt, I now felt a sweet and quiet sadness as I mourned the 
idyllic night Tom and I might have spent together, sealed off by the storm 
from any world but the one in which we were the only two inhabitants. 

Then the time finally came when I heard footsteps on the front stairs, heard 
upstairs closet doors opening and being closed, the upstairs toilet being 
flushed, the sounds of Tom and his mother moving around their bedrooms 
preparing to retire. All thoughts containing even the slightest degree of 
sadness vanished; trembling anticipation began growing again within me. My 
whole bed, from one edge to the other, became filled with an almost 
summerlike pleasantness from the glowing heat that radiated from my inner 
excitement. 

I heard Tom's mother call, "Goodnight, son," as the squeak of bedsprings 
came distantly from her room at the other end of the upstairs hallway. The 
door of her bedroom was practically always wide open, allowing sounds from 
there to be heard at least faintly in any other upstairs room, as well as 
giving her ears access to all but the most guarded sounds from any of the 
other rooms. 

Occasionally, however, I'd gone to the bathroom in the middle of the night 
and discovered her bedroom door tightly closed. Usually it was a night just 
before the preacher was scheduled to leave on a trip to preach in some other 
town. I'd gotten the idea his wife figured it was a matter of good feminine 
strategy to as nearly as possible drain a husband sexually before such 
departures. It seemed to me there might be more than mere coincidence behind 
her husband's filling so many such invitations. 

It seemed to take an age, but finally I heard the faint, distant snoring 
that signaled the de- parture of the mistress of the manse from the world of 
consciousness. I then lay waiting with rising impatience for Tom's 
appearance. Could he, in contrast to my torrid expectations, have felt so 
little interest that he'd dropped off to sleep while waiting? Just the 
suggestion started fury rising within me. Then the low sound of the latch of 
my door being drawn reached through the darkness to me. I raised up, 
propping myself upon one elbow, and saw my door swing open cautiously. All 
feelings within me except excited expectancy had vanished. 

As Tom slipped from the hallway, amazement shot through my excitement. He 
was fully clad in heavy pajamas. Instantly, however, I realized it was 
ridiculous of me to expect he would make even the short trip from his room 
to mine in the nude. No one who lived in this house ever traipsed around 
that way. But when he came to the edge of my bed, raised the covers, and 
started to slip into bed with me without first removing his night clothing, 
I protested, "You can't really mean you intend to get into bed with me with 
all your clothes on?" 

Tom glanced down at the front of himself as if surprised, then exclaimed, 
"But these are my pajamas." 

"I know," I nodded. 

"But I always sleep in pajamas," he protested. 

"But you're not getting into bed with me to sleep, exactly," I reminded him. 

He stood staring down at me for a moment, then asked, "Isn't it awfully cold 
in a bed with- out pajamas?" 

"Not when I'm in the bed with you," I murmured. 

Still he hesitated, acting as if getting into a bed without pajamas was an 
amazing idea. Suddenly I threw the covers back enough to expose one shoulder 
and breast, demanding, "Don't you want to feel me close to you?" 

Tom gulped, then muttered, "Oh, boy!" 

I persisted, "How can you expect to really feel me next to you if we had all 
that heavy pa-jama stuff between us?" 

That did it. Tom jerked the pajamas off as if they suddenly had become 
unbearably cold. He dropped them on the floor and jumped into bed. I 
welcomed him with open arms, hugged him close, plastering my naked flesh 
against his. That brought another soft; "Oh, boy!" out of Tom. Then he was 
hugging me close too. I could feel the rigid hardness of his young penis 
sandwiched between our bellies. Tom might have been young and he might have 
been on the shy side, but he was ready. 

I took one of my arms away from around him, opened enough space between our 
bodies to let my hand reach in between them and gently grip his penis. As my 
fingers closed upon it, Tom gustily whispered, "Oh, boy!" I felt shivers 
that were not from the outside cold rippling through his body as I caressed 
his hardness. Then I moved my fingers downward farther and caressed his 
young balls. That made Tom draw his breath inward sharply. 

Then he abruptly ducked his head under the covers and found one of my 
excited, eager breasts with his mouth. That brought a gasp out of me. A fine 
tingling seemed to flash from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes. 
Then I felt Tom's fingers beginning to caress my lower belly. That 
intensified the tingling the feeling of his mouth on my nipples had started. 
I tipped my pelvis, pushing upward toward his hand, inviting it to move 
lower. 

Tom's gentle fingers moved down into my delta of short, curly hair. They 
found my hot lower lips hiding beneath that hair. The wave of sensation his 
touch there gave me brought a moan out of me. Suddenly I was filled with too 
much impatience to take time for any more of these preliminaries. I wanted 
the feeling of his hardness filling my inner emptiness. I brought the head 
of Tom's cock to those concealed lower lips of mine which his fingers had 
just then started to explore. I rubbed the head of his cock deeper into 
their hot moistness than Tom's finger had yet ventured. That drew another 
whispered gasp of, "Oh, boy!" from Tom. 

Since then I've read what all the books say about a woman's need for more 
time to become aroused than a man requires; experience has proven that those 
rules like all others are very, very general. Women vary. Different times 
are different, too. That time I was more completely aroused than Tom was. 
That quickly became obvious. I felt I simply couldn't deny myself the 
feeling of Tom's beautiful hardness inside my hungry cunt one minute longer. 
There was room in my mind for only one thought: I was going to fuck him and 
get fucked, and I was going to do it right now! I climbed astride of him, 
pushing him over flat on his back. I reached down between my legs, gently 
but firmly gripped Tom's gorgeous hardness and brought the head of it back 
to the slippery lips of that hot, hungry lower mouth of mine. 

It seemed amazing to me, right then, that I'd actually owned that secret 
mouth so many years, yet never before had ever fed it anything, never before 
had actually realized just how intensely hungry it could feel. I began 
eagerly to make little pumping movements with my hips, starting to actually 
work Tom's wonderful hardness into those greedy lips of mine. But Tom 
surprised me, turning himself under me suddenly, jerking his hard cock away 
from my drooling pussy and out of the light grip of my guiding hand. 
"What're you doing?" he hissed up at me. "You want your father to kill me? 
Or don't you care what happens to me?" 

I didn't try to argue the matter. Instantly I said, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, 
I'm sorry! I just got carried away! You feel so wonderful. So exciting. I 
couldn't think." 

"I'll kiss you again like I did this afternoon," Tom proposed, "if you'll do 
it the same way for me. I won't be in you where you want me, down there, but 
at least I'll be in you. In your mouth." 

That didn't strike me as the greatest idea I'd ever heard. He'd be in me, of 
course, but my mouth wasn't where I was burning to have the feeling of his 
hardness going into me. But having his mouth and tongue on my cunt hadn't 
been bad at all. In fact, it had been the greatest feeling I'd ever 
experienced. I just felt certain that having his stiff cock shoved into my 
cunt to its roots would feel even greater. But I'd already learned that in 
this life we frequently have to settle for something second best. That we're 
frequently damned lucky to be able to enjoy even a good second best. 

At that time I'd never heard of 69 having any meaning other than being the 
number that followed 68 and immediately preceded 70. But the position we 
needed to get into to do what Tom had suggested was obvious, inexperienced 
though I was. I started to tell Tom, but just then the light blazed on. I 
glanced around; his mother was standing in the hall doorway. 

"What are you doing?" she demanded shrilly, accusingly. 

"Trying to smooth out a lump in my mattress," I told her, then raised my 
voice insistently, "Will you please turn out that light and close my door?!" 

She acted as if my tone of voice startled her, staring at me in surprise for 
a moment. Then she declared, "But Tommy isn't in his room!" 

"Maybe he went downstairs for something," I suggested. "Please turn off my 
light and close my door!" 

It almost worked. She reached for the light switch and started slowly 
backing out the doorway. But abruptly she stopped. She glanced at the floor 
beside my bed. When she brought her eyes up again they were flashing as she 
sud- denly pointed, exclaiming, "Those are Tommy's pajamas there on the 
floor." 

"I borrowed them, but they're too hot and too confining," I snapped. 

But I wasn't shaking her off the scent with mere words now. She came 
striding toward my bed, announcing, "You throw those covers back and let me 
see that lump, or I'll pull them down and look for myself, young lady!" 

I grabbed the top edge of the covers, ready to resist her if she attempted 
suiting action to her words. I demanded, "Are you saying you think Tom is 
here in my bed with me?" 

"His pajamas are here beside your bed," she announced loudly, then stopped, 
snatched them up, and waved them in the air before me as if defying me to 
question their reality. 

But I wasn't about to hand her the advantage of selecting the subject for 
our discussion. I demanded, "Do you have any idea what my father might do to 
Tom... maybe even to Tom's father... if he ever heard even a whisper of a 
thing like you just said?" 

A flicker of alarm went through her outraged eyes. The preacher's family 
might not have been long-time residents, but I knew they'd heard of my 
father's reputation for violence against those he considered had done him 
wrong. But Tom's mother wasn't easily turned aside. 

"Tommy, I want you to get out of that awful girl's bed this very instant!" 
she called, suddenly ignoring my presence as if I didn't exist. 

"If Tom came into my room, took his pajamas off, got into my bed," I shot at 
her, "you'd never convince my father Tom wasn't responsible for everything 
that happened. You'd better forget that wild idea and go look for Tom 
downstairs." 

"Downstairs?" 

"Probably raiding the refrig," I nodded. 

She stood staring down at me, obviously undecided what to do. Finally she 
declared, "Even if I do find him downstairs, you can't stay here in our 
house after tonight." 

"My father makes it awfully hard on people who take his money, then turn 
around and want to back out on their end of a deal for no good reason," I 
reminded her. "What'll you tell him?" 

Mrs. McKenna dropped Tom's pajamas like they'd suddenly become unbearably 
hot. She backed to the doorway and paused there for a moment. There was not 
the tiniest ray of Christian charity in her glittering eyes as she stood 
there staring at me. She hated my guts! But she was afraid to risk doing 
anything about it. Suddenly she slammed the door and was gone. 

I leaped out of my bed and sprinted to the door to listen. I heard her go 
tromping angrily to the front stairs and started down. I turned to hiss at 
Tom. "Have you got other pajamas in the linen closet in the bathroom?" I was 
sure he had. Tom still lay just where he'd been in my bed, staring at me, 
frozen by either fear or amazement. He did manage to nod, however. 

"She didn't check the bathroom!" I snapped. "Get in there before she comes 
back upstairs. Get into another pair of pajamas. Pretend you were in there 
all the time. Move, damn it! And get your wits about you, unless you want 
this to be the last chance we ever get to have some fun together." 

That snapped Tom out of it. He got from my bed into the upstairs bathroom in 
nothing flat. Almost instantly the sound of the toilet being flushed went 
through the house. From downstairs I heard his mother suddenly call, 
"Tommy?" Then I heard her rushing back upstairs. I rushed back to my bed, 
climbed in, and pulled the covers up. In the hallway outside my door there 
was a sudden murmur of her voice saying something I couldn't make out. But 
Tom's voice was very distinct as he demanded from the bathroom across the 
hallway, "What's bugging you, Mother? Is there some law against me getting 
up at night to have a bowel movement in here without coming to tell you 
about it first? Will you please stop worrying about me like I was some 
little kid in diapers and go back to bed? Please?" 

His mother's voice raised, becoming intelligible although still guarded, as 
she insisted, "I want to see you first, son." 

"Holy cow!" I heard Tom groan. "All right. Just a minute until I get wiped." 

Sounding shocked, Mrs. McKenna protested, "Tommy! I didn't ask for a 
detailed description of everything." 

"Just wanted you to understand why I have to keep you waiting in the cold 
there in the hallway, Mother," Tom's voice interrupted. Then the sound of 
the toilet being flushed came again. Silently I congratulated Tom on his 
perfor- mance. If he'd never lied before he met me, that preacher's son was 
learning quickly and well. I hoped he'd thought to rumple up the fresh pair 
of pajamas he'd put on; I knew that's what his mother was insisting on 
having a chance to check on. 

I guess he did, because at breakfast next morning, Mrs. McKenna apologized 
to me and asked me to forget the things she'd said the night before. I 
accepted it with an air of injured innocence and suggested maybe I'd better 
ask my father to make other arrangements for me. Mrs. McKenna almost got 
tearful trying to persuade me that nothing of that kind was necessary. 

From that day on, Tom and I were careful to seldom have a civil word for 
each other in his parents' presence; we often sounded like a sister and her 
younger brother the way we appeared to grate on each other. And it worked 
like a charm; before long it became obvious that Mrs. McKenna had completely 
forgotten whatever suspicions she might have once had about us. 

So while Reverend McKenna was making pastoral calls and Mrs. McKenna was 
presiding over meetings of the Missionary Society, the Ladies' Aid, and what 
not, Tom and I rushed home from school every afternnon we knew they'd both 
be out, eager to do our special homework. He learned to lick my cunt as 
satisfactorily as any of the experts I've had eat my pussy since then. And I 
began learning some of the fine points of cock sucking. But that hunger to 
feel Tom's hardness inside me still persisted, regardless of how good we 
learned to make the oral sex for each other. 

Then I got back to the ranch unexpectedly one afternoon, as I've told about 
earlier, and surprised Mrs. Miller and Ed Sands. That opened my mind to an 
investigation of the possible delights of asshole fucking, which Tom and I 
investigated extensively after that first time I've already told about. But 
I still hungered for the feel of his cock in my cunt. So we finally tried 
it. 

CHAPTER FIVE 

I thought I'd figured out a foolproof plan. I got Ed Sands to let me ride a 
green horse I knew would be sure to buck, one weekend that I spent at the 
ranch during a spell of beautiful, open weather. I made certain my father 
was nearby because I wanted him to see my ride, but I also was careful to 
not let him know in advance what I was up to because he probably would have 
forbidden it. 

Before that ride was over, I'd gotten rid of that damned maidenhead my 
father'd been having our doctor keep such close tabs on. The crotch of my 
pants was bright red with blood when I got off that colt. Father saw it and 
began cussing Ed Sands out for having let me mount such a horse. Then he 
rushed me to town to see the doctor. It was comical, how concerned he was. 
You never saw anyone with such a long face as his was after the doctor 
confirmed the de- struction of that damned built-in tattletale that I'd kept 
so long. I wanted to yell and do something crazy to celebrate. But I held it 
in, willing to wait a little longer. I'd finally won this devious contest 
between my father and me, or so I then thought. I should have known my old 
man better. 

Anyhow, Monday morning came and I drove back to town and another week of 
school. But I don't remember a thing that happened during school hours that 
week. What I'll always remember is the glorious fucking Tom and I crammed 
into every afternoon his folks were both gone and into every night without 
exception. It was heaven! Reverend McKenna was getting ready to be away for 
two weeks of evangelistic meetings, so the door to their room got closed 
every night. Like I said earlier, Mrs. McKenna seemed to have a thing about 
draining all the sexual desire she possibly could out of her husband before 
he left on such trips. When no such trip was in prospect, she might not give 
him any for two or three weeks at a stretch. But he had it made when he had 
preaching engagements that would take him out of town for even one night. 
When he was going to be gone for two whole weeks, she gave him the key to 
the mint. So that week she and her husband were much too busy every night to 
realize that Tom and I didn't spend any more time sleeping than they did. 

What a week Tom and I had. But the first night, the very first time we ever 
got his hard cock in my ravenous cunt... that was the great- est! Because it 
was all so thrillingly new, so breathtakingly exciting! 

Tom waited, his door open a crack, watching until the door of his folks' 
room was quietly but firmly closed that first night. From what he told me 
later, when we were laying in each other's arms laughing quietly about it, 
he nearly froze to death crouched there in the darkness waiting. But he 
wasn't complaining; he seemed to feel the discomfort he'd endured had been a 
small price. After that first night, Tom claimed he had no problem keeping 
warm while he waited for his parents' door to close; he just thought about 
how great it was going to be, in just a little while, when he was fucking 
me. After he'd experienced the reality, that first night, he could rerun the 
memory of it like a tape on a video-tape playback machine. 

For my own part, I can still get myself steamed up playing back the memory 
of that night. Tom was such a cherry, so unsure about what he should do, yet 
so sweet and so eager when he finally got to my room and crawled into bed 
with me. He was shivering and his bare skin felt like ice, but I think it 
was his excitement and not the cold that had him so atremble. He wouldn't 
have remembered to lock my door, he was in such a rush to get to me, if I 
hadn't reminded him. I wasn't about to give his mother another chance to 
surprise me the way she had that first time I'd gotten Tom into my bed. 

Lord, but he felt great against me, regardless of how cold his skin was. We 
wrapped our arms around each other and cold as he was, Tom had a hard-on 
that felt like a rock as our lower bellies pressed together, sandwiching it 
between them. That eager cock of his had grown considerably, I felt certain, 
in the weeks since Tom first fucked me in the ass; I know it had increased 
in size at least half again since the time I gave Tom his first blow job. 
I'd been making a man out of him in more ways than one. Use improves any 
tool. In almost no time Tom's body temperature was just as feverish as mine. 
Outside a Wyoming blizzard might have been blowing, but under those covers 
of my bed it was like a summer night in the tropics, a night made for love. 

Tom suddenly drew away from me a little, ducked his head under the covers, 
cupped my naked boobs in his hands, then began licking and kissing them. 
Finally he sucked both excited nipples into his hot mouth together. Lord, 
what a wave of sensation that shot through me! I felt hot love honey begin 
gushing out of my box, drenching my curly muff and my upper thighs. I 
couldn't have been more superheated, more excited, if it had been my very 
first experiment with sex. Of course it was my very first ex-p e r i m e n t 
with actual fucking, with actual cunt-hole fucking instead of asshole 
fucking or the oral substitute. I'd never been more steamed up in my entire 
life. Tom pulled his hungry lips away from my burning titties long enough to 
gasp, "You're wonderful, Trina!" 

I reached down and closed the fingers of one hand around his swollen cock as 
I told him breathlessly, "You're pretty wonderful your- self, sweetheart." 

Then Tom went back to sucking at my tits like he was starving and they were 
pure sugar and quick energy. He may have been only a green kid, but that's 
better any time, night or day, than a bull-anxious clod like many college 
Casanovas I've found myself matched with since then. The athletic, 
campus-hero type and the older hard-sell sales types and big-man executives 
seem to be the poorest performers as lovers, judging by my personal 
experience. They all make the same mistake of coming on much too fast and in 
a way they evidently hope will seem overwhelming. Their idea of being a real 
man seems to be to overwhelm and subdue a sex partner. They act like sex is 
just another body-contact sport in which there has to be a winner and a 
loser, a victor and a defeated opponent. 

What stupes! They obviously consider a girl or woman to be some inferior 
being created for them to use and humble. I think if that kind of male found 
himself forced to choose between being a terribly deformed male or being 
transformed into a physically perfect, beautiful woman, they'd prefer to 
exist as a pitiful cripple, but male; becoming a woman would be the worst 
fate that kind could imagine. Maybe that's why that type always tries so 
hard never to let himself get emotionally involved with any female, even the 
one they may finally marry. Those kind of bastards could all take lessons 
from Tom, however green and young he was. Like I've said, I'd been making a 
real he- man out of Tom in more ways than one. Tom had learned what being a 
real lover was all about. 

As Tom sucked and caressed my tits, I began stroking the head of his cock 
through my steaming crack, bathing it in the flood of hot love honey flowing 
there. Lord, but that hard cock of his felt delicious to me there. I seemed 
able to enjoy the deliciousness of it throughout every individual cell in my 
entire body. My blood began feeling like it had turned to liquid fire. I 
found myself wondering whether it was possible to get so teased up and hot 
that it would become impossible to come? I groaned, thinking what 
delightful, agonizing, exquisite kind of torture such a condition might 
create. 

Instantly Tom's mouth came away from my tits to whisper breathlessly, "Did 
my teeth hurt you?" 

"I don't even know you have teeth!" I told him in sharp gasps. "Lordy, if 
someone lit a match right now, I think I could make an H-bomb explosion look 
like nothing bigger than a firecracker!" 

"It's feeling good?" he whispered hopefully. 

"You have to ask, you silly?" I teased. 

Without warning Tom popped my tits back into his greedy mouth, sucking hard, 
nibbling my nipples just a little with his teeth. My head tipped back upon 
my shoulders like someone had grabbed my hair and jerked it hard; a long, 
low, strangled groan struggled out of me. For an instant I felt on the very 
edge of blacking out. 

Desperately I thrust the head of Tom's beautifully rigid cock downward away 
from my clitoris into the slippery mouth of that tunnel of love in my lower 
body. My hips moved in a frantic lunge toward him, driven by pure instinct. 
Through the swirling cyclone of sensation roaring through my consciousness, 
I felt the deliciousness of Tom's hard cock slipping into my belly. 

That was all it took! My question of an instant or so before, about whether 
I might get so hot it would become impossible to come, was gloriously 
answered! If such a thing as a double-barreled orgasm is possible, that's 
what the feeling of Tom's hardness starting into me triggered. As I've 
thoroughly explained, I was no stranger to the experience of orgasm, even 
though this was the very first time a male cock had been inside my cunt; but 
this orgasm was more than twice as great as any I'd enjoyed before. It had 
me teetering on the fine edge of a fall into nothingness. It seemed to go on 
and on and on for hours. It was excruciatingly wonderful, exquisitely 
delicious. 

The next thing I became aware of was a feeling of smothering; I discovered 
I'd clapped my pillow over my head and even partly into my mouth, though I'd 
had no conscious thought of worrying about the sounds I might make. As I 
sucked breath deep into my lungs, I became aware of Tom's muffled groans, 
his mouth still full of my tits. He was humping his cock in and out of me 
frantically as we lay there side by side. Obviously he was on the verge. 

If there's one thing I believed in even then, it's that one good fuck 
deserves another. I wrapped my arms and legs around Tom, gripping him to me 
tightly for just an instant, and turned myself to bring him astride me. I 
don't think he missed a stroke. But once he was on his hands and knees over 
me, he began putting a lot more power into every thrust and he began 
thrusting about three or four times faster. He acted like he thought my 
slippery cunt and his stiff cock were two sticks and he was a boy scout 
rubbing them together in a furious effort to start a fire. What delicious 
sparks of sensation Tom made fly! Almost faster than I can tell about it, 
Tom had kindled a whole new fire and had it roaring in my smoking cunt. 
Lord, what a fucking! Since then I've taken on some real experts, but not 
one of them has ever done a better job of giving me a really sensational 
screw than Tom did that very first time he got into my joybox. 

A sharp groan came out of Tom like he was in real agony. I felt him begin to 
come, jets of his hot juices shooting off inside me, drenching my sensitive 
inner surfaces. It gave me a supercharge of sensation that blasted me off 
into the wildest orgasm I'd ever had overwhelm me. I still have no idea how 
long it actually lasted; it seemed to go on and on and on. During that time 
my whole world, the only world that I was aware of, was my own burning, 
throbbing cunt and Tom's thrusting, pulsating cock inside it. I even lost 
awareness of Tom's existence; only his hammering, pumping hardness inside my 
ravenous cunt really existed. 

Since then I've heard many different girls and women brag about their 
multiple orgasms. I always feel sorry for them. I've had multiple orgasms, 
too. That kind is great, no argument about 'that, but is actually very 
superficial in the quality of sensation created. Compared, that is, to the 
trip I took on that single, long-lasting, excruciatingly intense orgasm 
triggered by the feeling of Tom coming inside me that very first time. 

Finally Tom quit banging me. I don't know exactly when. My orgasm tapered 
off. I began coming back to a consciousness of more than my muscles 
squeezing relentlessly at his captive shaft of hardness. Tom had collapsed 
on top of me. We were both simmering in our own sweat, our hearts racing, 
our breath coming in gasps like we'd both had a long run. Come to think of 
it, I guess we had, though our feet hadn't been on the ground. Even so, Tom 
was still hard inside me. I was amazed to find that hardness still felt 
deliciously good to me. He turned himself until we again were side by side, 
still firmly coupled. It was another five minutes before his hardness wilted 
enough to cause his penis to slip out of me. Not more than another five 
minutes after that Tom had a brand new hard-on and was ready to go again. 

Neither one of us seemed able to get enough of it. It was nearly dawn before 
Tom slipped back to his own room. Lord, but my bed suddenly seemed terribly 
empty when he was gone. I found myself feeling like I couldn't endure having 
Tom out of my sight. I wanted to say, "To hell with his father and mother!" 
Espe- daily his mother! I had to fight down an almost overwhelming urge to 
follow him down the hallway to his room and climb into bed with him. I felt 
I could never again go to sleep unless I was curled up in Tom's arms. I 
found myself worrying about whether or not Tom was feeling the same way. Was 
he missing me the same intense way I was missing him? I very nearly threw 
discretion to the wind and went rushing down that hallway to him to find 
out. I was in torment. 

During that whole week the only reality Tom and I weren't out of touch with 
most of the time was the indescribably delicious reality of his hard cock 
stroking back and forth in my burning cunt. I expect we crammed more quality 
fucking into that one week than many mortals experience in an entire 
lifetime. More, maybe, than some experience within several lifetimes. 

But early Saturday morning my old daddy showed up at the preacher's door. 
Only an hour before that, Tom's folks gave Tom and me a scare, almost 
catching Tom still in bed with me. Tom's dad had gotten up and gone to the 
bathroom across the hallway from my bedroom door, while Tom was still 
hammering the cock to me. We'd forgotten about his having to leave early 
that morning. And he nearly gave both of us heart failure. An hour later my 
dad showed up, wanting to know why I hadn't come home the evening before, 
the weather being as good as it was. He didn't seem to buy my explanation 
about needing to spend time in the library that weekend doing research on a 
project of special homework. Before noon, Daddy and I were on a plane headed 
for Los Angeles, the location of a strict parochial school for girls he'd 
enrolled me in. I thought the world had ended. Actually, exciting times were 
ahead. 

CHAPTER SIX 

My roommate in the girls' school was a senior named Laura. She was eighteen 
and just a shade taller than I am. She had a wonderful body, beautiful hair 
and complexion, and very attractive features. If there were any differences 
between us in our degree of attractiveness, I felt they were all in Laura's 
favor. In addition, she had those four years of age on me; I felt awed in 
her presence. I still resented my dad's having brought me to the school, but 
I immediately wanted Laura to like me. If she liked me, I'd manage whatever 
else the school brought. 

While she was helping me settle in, get my things put away, Laura filled me 
in on the school routine and rules. In doing that she was fulfilling her 
role as senior girl. But when she had finished that, she smiled suddenly, 
asking, "Is it Wyoming you're from?" 

I nodded. 

"I suppose the ideas I've gotten from books and movies about what Wyoming's 
like are pretty corny," she murmured. "Have you ever lived on a ranch?" 

"My home's on one of the biggest ranches in Wyoming," I admitted. "I'm just 
a country hick." 

"Do you like horses?" 

I told her, "I ought to. I grew up knowing a lot more horses than I did 
kids." 

"Groovy!" Laura exclaimed. "I'm wild about horses. Here in California you 
can ride almost all year around... if you're not shut in a jail like this." 

I glanced at her, surprised. Suddenly I felt very pleased. The first instant 
I laid eyes on Laura I'd felt somehow that we were kindred spirits. Slowly I 
said, "Then you're not wild about being here either?" 

"Not a bit wild," she said quietly. "But I am going to get myself an 
education because I want the advantages an education brings. My stepfather 
pays the bills and he says this is the place for this part of my education. 
I figure it's probably better than trying to live with him and Mother and 
attend public school. So I've made the best of it. But I feel it's going to 
be easier, now that you're here." 

"I'm glad you feel that way," I told Laura. I went to my bed and put the 
pillow against the headboard for a backrest and sat down. Kicking my shoes 
off, I raised my feet and stretched my legs upon the bed. I glanced at 
Laura. She was still standing where she'd been before. She was looking at me 
with a strange, tense expression. I asked, "What's wrong?" 

She just stared at me for another moment. Then she abruptly asked, "What do 
you know about sex?" 

Without taking time to think I declared, "Not nearly as much as I'd like to. 
Actually, though, sex is the real reason I got sentenced to this prison." 

"So what else is new?" Laura asked with a wry smile. "One way or another, 
most of us are in here behind walls and under guard because someone's 
worried about us learning too much too soon. Some of us," and the way Laura 
said it, I instantly knew she was one of them, "actually were dumb enough or 
unlucky enough to get caught while doing some personal sex research. How 
about you?" 

I shook my head, then admitted, "I've had some close calls, but I was lucky 
enough to never quite get caught. At least not so caught I wasn't able to 
claim I was trying to smooth a lump out of my bed, then bluff my way on 
through and make my story stick without having the lump investigated." 

Laura's eyes were shining, obviously with eagerness. "The lump in question 
was a boy in your bed under you?" she suggested hopefully. 

When I nodded, she insisted, "Oh, tell me all about it! Please?" 

I looked at Laura a moment, studying her; somehow I knew she was really a 
kindred soul, someone I could trust completely. So I told her about all my 
adventures with Tom. When I fin- ished, there was a look of envious wonder 
in her eyes. She stared at me, murmuring, "In this prison, I may be 
considered your upperclass-man, but there are important things you know that 
I'm illiterate about! And you called yourself a country hick!" 

I told her, "It takes more than knowing just a little bit about sex to 
transform a country hick into a suave sophisticate. I have a lot more to 
learn from you than I might be able to teach you, I feel certain." 

Laura chuckled, walked over to me and hugged me as she murmured, "You're 
sweet. You and I are going to make a good team for researching the really 
important things of life." 

"I hope so," I told her, putting my arms around her and hugging her back. 
Then I let my arms drop back to my sides. 

But Laura kept her arms around me, holding our bodies close together as she 
gave me a searching look for a moment. Finally she said, "Having sex with a 
boy or a man, like you have, is the supreme experience in sex... if a girl's 
lucky like you were and gets a real lover and not a horse-cocked bull. But 
what do you do when you're in a prison like this and no lover boy can get to 
you?" 

I shook my head. The thought was heavily depressing. I was already suffering 
withdrawal pains, having had my sex-rich diet of the past week so rudely 
chopped off. Lord, how I was aching to hold Tom in my arms and my burning 
cunt again. I didn't need any help from Laura to make me aware of my loss. 
Suddenly just the nearness of her body pressed against mine felt excitingly 
good; I quickly wrapped my arms around her again and tried to hug myself 
more tightly against her. Laura repeated, "What do you do for relief in a 
place like this?" 

Again I shook my head dumbly, then found my tongue suddenly, inviting, "You 
show me what to do, Laura. Please, show me?" 

She chuckled, then murmured, "You love your neighbor, wherever you are. 
Isn't that what the Good Book tells us to do?" 

I shook my head. "I don't know. Does it?" 

"That's right," she chuckled again, "you just got here, so you haven't 
gotten used to being hammered over the head day after day with selected 
quotations and interpretations." 

"Interpretations?" I echoed. 

"Sure," Laura said, rubbing her curvaceous body slowly back and forth 
against mine, hugging me closer as she explained, "no one who believes the 
Bible is something extra special seems to believe it ever says exactly 
whatever it has to say straight out and out in so many words. Of course not! 
Everything in it is supposed to be in sort of code, they say. So you've got 
no chance of understanding what it's really trying to tell you unless you 
learn a whole system of interpretations. Like their interpretation of who 
the Bible is talking about when it says to love your neighbor. They say that 
means any and all other members of their one and only true church. But I've 
learned to play their game my own way and make my own interpretations. The 
way I interpret it, right now you're the dear, sweet, wonderful neighbor I'm 
commanded to love. Wouldn't you like to have me love you, sweet neighbor?" 

Suddenly a strange flash of electriclike excitement shot through me. I 
hugged myself against Laura more tightly, murmuring, "Of course, neighbor." 

Laura brought her hands up, cradled my head between them gently, and kissed 
me full on the lips. I'd never had another girl or woman kiss me that way 
before; it surprised me. 

Still holding my head in that same affectionate embrace, Laura raised her 
lips from mine and looked into my eyes as she said, "It's not even half as 
good as being kissed by your Tom, or some other he-man type guy... but isn't 
it a lot better than not being kissed at all?" 

I surprised myself; I nodded. Then I felt irritated at myself because I'd 
felt surprised. Why shouldn't it seem pleasant to exchange demonstrations of 
affection with another girl? Everyone thought it perfectly natural to show 
antagonism toward certain other individuals, male or female. Why wasn't it 
just as natural to show affection, without restrictions based upon 
membership in one sexual fraternity or the other? 

Laura brought her lips back down upon mine. The moist hotness of them felt 
good. Softer than Tom's or any other boy's. Different. But good. I found 
myself suddenly kissing her back. Then Laura's feverish tongue suddenly came 
thrusting through my lips, past my teeth and into my mouth, searching, 
caressing, stroking in and out. 

My own tongue raised suddenly to greet hers and twine with it. The slippery 
embrace reminded me of Tom's good hard cock in the slippery embrace of my 
hungry cunt. Just the thought of that sent my blood pressure shooting up off 
the top of the scale. 

I clutched myself against Laura more tightly and began grinding my lower 
belly up against hers as hard as I could. That created some good friction 
along the shaft of my suddenly rigid clitoris. The sensation it gave me was 
almost as good as if I'd been grinding it against a rigid penis inside the 
front of Tom's pants. My excited clitoris didn't seem to have any prejudice 
about the source of the friction. I gave a sudden thrust against Laura to 
increase the delicious friction. 

Laura raised her face from mine. A breathless chuckle came from her. She 
smiled into my eyes, then murmured, "God, but I'm glad I got you for my new 
roommate, sweetie!" Then she went to the door and locked it. As Laura turned 
back from the door, she began pulling her clothes off. Suddenly I was 
pulling mine off too, feeling like I couldn't get out of them fast enough. I 
didn't really know exactly what was going to happen, but whatever it was I 
could hardly wait. The excitement suddenly filling me was almost as wild as 
it had been the first time Tom and I had been naked together. 

Then I was flat on my back across my bed, my feet up on the edge of the 
mattress thrusting my knees high into the air' above me. Laura was on her 
knees beside the bed, her head between my knees. She was kissing and licking 
her way downward along my soft inner thighs. One of her fingers began 
stroking the lips of my cunt, triggering a flow of slippery love honey. 
Vaguely I realized it was Laura creating all this sensation within me. I was 
responding almost exactly as I would have if it had been Tom's mouth and 
fingers caressing me. It felt fantastically delicious. 

Laura's caressing fingers suddenly thrust inward through those slippery 
lower lips of mine, into my feverish cunt. A groan came out of me. I raised 
my hips up off the bed, thrusting my eager cunt against her probing fingers. 

That brought a chuckle from Laura. She withdrew her fingers. I thought she 
was trying to tantalize me. My head came jerking up off the mattress, words 
of protest about to tumble from my lips. I was amazed to see Laura eagerly 
licking my love juices from her fingers. When she saw me watching, she 
exclaimed breathlessly, "You are delicious, sugar! Sweeter than honey. 
Delectable!" 

She thrust her fingers back into the depths of my hungry cunt. Another groan 
came up out of my lower belly; my head flopped back down upon the bed. My 
breath came in sharp gasps. New waves of sensation rushed through me. 
Laura's thumb was caressing my clitoris while her fingertips caressed the 
deep inner surfaces of my feverish vagina. Then her fingers were gone again, 
leaving my quivering cunt again ach-ingly empty. But before I could raise my 
head to protest, I jumped, startled by her sudden touch on my asshole. 
Instantly Laura mur- mured, "Relax, sweetie. I'll not hurt you. If lover 
boy's cock felt good in your ass, you'll get a groovy sensation from this, 
too. Just relax." 

Her fingers, slippery with their coating of juices from my cunt, went 
sliding into my ass; her thumb went into my lower cunt. Lord, what a 
sensation! I'd never felt anything quite like that. She seemed to have found 
a whole main cable of nerves in the thin wall of tissue between her fingers 
in my ass and her thumb in my cunt. As she lightly stroked it between thumb 
and fingers, it created a wave of sensation I thought was going to blow my 
mind. 

Laura's hot mouth closed abruptly over my clitoris and she began to suck and 
lick at it. Her thumb and fingers kept on doing their thing inside of me. I 
clutched the hair of my head in the fingers of both hands and held on, 
trying to keep the whole top of my head from blowing off. 

Instead the explosion went off in my ass and cunt and whole lower belly. All 
of that area suddenly began to struggle with spasms of agonizing pulsations. 
The instant it started I was teetering on the edge of blacking out. I knew I 
was going to yell or scream, knew there was no way I could resist it, yet 
knew I didn't dare risk being heard. Desperately I grabbed my pillow while I 
still had enough strength to make such a movement. I clamped it over my 
face, pushed it into my mouth just as the agonized scream tried to gush from 
it. Lordy, how I was coming! 

The fingers of her other hand suddenly closed upon one of my tits. She began 
pulling the rigid nipple. That triggered a whole new earthquake of sensation 
ten times as great as before. My whole lower body was pulsating furiously, 
about to tear itself apart and dissolve in a flood of boiling sensation. I 
lay there jerking convulsively, now really coming, coming, coming, coming, 
coming! 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

An hour later I'd returned Laura's favors. She acted just as exhausted as 
I'd felt after she'd finished with me. I crawled up on the bed beside her 
and hugged her close in my arms, my tits plastered - against hers. For a few 
minutes we just lay there that way, resting. Then Laura whispered, "Once a 
month I fly to Frisco for a weekend with my mother and stepfather. Coming 
back, last week, I got into conversation with my seatmate." 

"Some young movie star?" I suggested. 

"A very distinguished-looking, very suave, very mature man of the world." 

"An old type, huh?" I asked in a teasing chuckle. 

"Just wait until you see him!" Laura challenged. "But listen a minute. He 
told me there's a remote estate up in the Santa Monica mountains owned by a 
former movie star who's created a business that caters to the sexual 
appetites of a very exclusive clientele. He claimed he has an inside track 
with the owner; that she would allow him to take me on a tour of the place, 
watch what goes on in some of the special rooms, even try out anything I 
thought looked interesting. But no one is allowed out of this jail alone; 
we're released only in twos or more, even to authorized relatives." 

"So what's the plan you've hatched?" I prompted, in hopes of priming her 
into talking further. 

Laura glanced up, studied me for a moment, then said, "I had to find someone 
who'd go with me before there was any point trying to come up with a plan. 
Are you interested?" 

"Sure I am," I declared without hesitation, "provided we make just one 
rule." 

"What's that?" 

"We stay together at all times," I declared. "We will under no circumstances 
separate, even to go to the toilet, after we leave here." 

"I'd want that just as much as you," Laura said quickly. 

"Then count me in," I told her. 

She smiled, then stood up as she said, "When I have something to count you 
in on, I'll tell you the details. All right?" 

"Fine," I nodded. 

A week passed. I settled into the routine of the school and began getting 
acquainted with other freshman girls. I also had enough contacts with enough 
other upper class women to make me realize how very, very fortunate I'd been 
to get put in with Laura. During that week, Laura had shown me in many 
little ways that she was really my friend. She passed the word that any 
older girl who made any kind of trouble for me would have her to deal with. 
As a result, I was shown respect most freshmen didn't enjoy. 

One day, when I returned to our room from classes, I found Laura there ahead 
of me. She was brimming with excitement. The instant I had the door closed 
behind me she exclaimed in a stage whisper, "It's going to work! The 
superintendent received the letter today, and she's approved the request." 

"What on earth are you talking about?" I asked. 

"The man I told you about?" Laura reminded me. 

"Yes." 

"After I talked to you, I managed to make a phone call to him," she told me 
breathlessly, keeping her voice low as if fearful that our room might be 
bugged. "I arranged for him to write a letter posing as my uncle. He asked 
to be allowed to take me to his home for the afternoon and early evening 
next Saturday. Invited you to accompany me." 

"And the superintendent has received his letter?" I asked. 

Laura nodded. "She had me called to the office last period, told me about 
the letter, and asked if I cared to accept the invitation." 

"And did you?" I teased. 

Laura shrugged eloquently. "I said if you could go with me, it might be a 
chance to do some sightseeing that would be fun." 

I giggled, then exclaimed, "Sightseeing? But wouldn't our poor old 
superintendent have heart failure if she knew what sights we'll be seeing?" 

I suppressed my impulse to giggle, however, as our strait-laced old 
superintendent was bidding us goodbye shortly after noon the following 
Saturday. To tell the truth, it was easy. I was so impressed with the 
elegance of the chauffeured Rolls Royce limousine Laura's 
distinguished-looking friend had arrived in, my inclination to giggle wasn't 
hard to suppress. Our superintendent also was obviously impressed by it and 
by the regal appearance of Laura's supposed "Uncle." She even apologized to 
him for the school rule which forced her to have me accompany Laura. But 
Laura instantly assured her she should not worry about that, claiming she 
would have suggested it even had there been no such rule. 

We were shown into the luxurious back seat of the limousine. Before Laura's 
Uncle Malcolm joined us he told our superintendent, "We will be having lunch 
at the Century City Sky-room in case you should want to contact us for any 
reason." 

Our old superintendent had fallen complete victim to his charm. She threw up 
her hands and shook her head in protest, exclaiming, "I'm certain no such 
occasion will arise. I feel--" He broke in on her gently, asking, "And you 
have my home phone?" 

"Yes, yes," she assured him, "but I won't be bothering you by using it, I'm 
certain. Just let me know, please, should it become impossible for you to 
have the girls back by nine this evening." 

"They will be back before nine," he assured her, then joined Laura and me. 
The chauffeur closed the door after him. Our poor deluded superintendent 
stood waving gaily as our elegant car drove away. 

We weren't out of her sight when Uncle Malcolm turned his aristocratic head 
my way. His eyes gave me a careful inspection. Then he glanced at Laura on 
his other side, nodding slightly. He murmured approvingly, "Your little 
friend is, I think, even more delectable than your description led me to 
believe. The two of you may prove to be such stimulating company you'll make 
a new man of me." As he said that, he put one hand on one of my knees, the 
other on one of Laura's. I don't know how Laura felt, but the touch of his 
refined hand sent a strange supercharge of sexual excitement surging through 
me. Suddenly I felt the lubricating inner sweat triggered by that excitement 
hotly dampening my panties. My whole body was tingling with feverish 
anticipation mingled with sharply stabbing chills of apprehension; I was not 
so intoxicated by the prospect of unique adventure that I did not also feel 
an almost equally exciting fear of the unknown. Whatever was going to 
happen, I was committed to see it through without a whimper. I'd never make 
Laura regret her choice of me as her companion on this adven- ture. 

Resting his hands upon our knees was all Uncle Malcolm did. on the drive to 
Century City. It was, he explained, located on the site of what once had 
been part of the back lot at Twentieth Century-Fox Studios. As we drove, he 
removed one hand from the knee it caressed, then the other, in gesturing as 
he pointed out various points of interest. It was obvious that he owned an 
encyclopedic knowledge of the film industry and of a multitude of events not 
generally known about its development in the Hollywood area. He seemed like 
someone showing off his hometown to visitors. 

When we reached the Century City Skyroom it became even more obvious than it 
had been that he certainly was no ordinary person. We were escorted by a 
fawning maitre d' to a table that commanded the best view in the entire 
room. It was the kind of warm winter day the Chamber of Commerce likes to 
advertise as typical in Southern California. There was just enough wind to 
keep the smog blown away. The view to be seen from our vantage point was 
breathtaking. 

Uncle Malcolm ordered for us, including a bottle of champagne. After the 
bill had been taken away with Uncle Malcolm's credit card, he abruptly asked 
Laura, "Exactly how much, my dear, does our little Wyoming friend here know 
about our conversation on the plane from Frisco?" 

Laura laughed a little nervously, exclaiming, "Everything! If she didn't, 
she likely wouldn't be here." 

For some reason I don't understand I giggled at that. My cheeks felt even 
more flushed than the champagne had made them. I'm certain I was blushing 
when he turned his head to glance at me. He smiled, evidently not displeased 
by my reaction, then asked, "you'll both be frank with me about how you 
feel, won't you?" 

Laura and I nodded together. 

"Then frankly... is each of you ready to experience a very... 
unconventional... afternoon?" he asked. 

I glanced at Laura; her eyes were bright with eagerness, but her cheeks were 
as crimson as mine felt. She murmured breathlessly, "I'm ready for whatever 
happens!" 

I chimed in, "I am too!" 

"And the more unconventional, the better," Laura added. 

"Just so nothing hurts us physically," I put in. "I don't like physical 
pain. I understand there are some sex nuts who're so fouled up they think 
it's impossible to experience sexual pleasure unless it's mingled with pain. 
I think that's sick. I draw the line against anything like that. Otherwise, 
though, the more unconventional the better." 

"Good!" he exclaimed. He glanced at me as he said, "I'm Uncle Malcolm to 
you, as well as Laura, from here on. You're both my nieces. Understand?" 

I nodded. "I understand." 

He continued quietly, "Now to what you said about not liking physical pain. 
I agree with you entirely. But in some instances there is a very fine line 
between the point where pleasure ends and actual pain begins. Sometimes the 
closer to that fine line you can get, yet without actually crossing it, the 
more excruciatingly intense your pleasure is. So you must give me your full 
confidence without reservations, must not hold back if something you're 
asked to do surprises you a little. Will you promise?" 

"Well... " I said hesitantly, uncertain about agreeing to buy any such pig 
in a poke. 

He broke in, assuring, "I'll promise you, nothing you'll be asked to do will 
cause you any actual pain. Just trust me and you'll come through all the 
experiences we're about to have together as physically whole and unharmed as 
you are at this very moment. Agreed?" 

I still felt a little reluctant, but I nodded, trembling a little deep 
within myself as I murmured, "Agreed." 

Laura's "Agreed!" echoed mine, but was more emphatic. 

"Good!" Uncle Malcolm exclaimed, smiling as he stood up. He helped us back 
down to his limousine. As the chauffeur drove us away, Uncle Malcolm brought 
two pieces of handkerchief-size black silk and two sleep masks from a 
compartment in the wall behind the front seat. He announced, "One thing 
more... from this point on, I'll have to blindfold each of you. The place 
we're going is very exclusive and very secret. I had to promise you'd be 
blindfolded during the entire drive there in order to get permission to 
bring you with me to see the sights. 

All right?" 

Laura and I both nodded and turned ourselves for the blindfolds to be put 
into place. My basic human fear of the unknown had sent chills flashing 
through my excitement earlier. They now were intensified by the experience 
of black sightlessness. I was trembling, but determined to hide it. I 
struggled to appear calm and relaxed as I let myself be carried blindly 
toward our unknown destination. 

From the twisting and turning I could feel the limousine doing, I knew-we 
were being carried into mountains somewhere. I remembered Laura having said 
the place this stranger we called Uncle Malcolm had suggested taking her was 
so remote that all manner of unusual sexual practices were carried on there 
without fear of interruption by authorities. I felt wetness in my panties 
again. To this day I can't be certain whether it was caused by fear or by 
excitement. I was filled with conflicting emotions. I wanted out, but I was 
determined to see this wild adventure through without a whimper. I almost 
succeeded. 

CHAPTER EIGHT 

Apprehension began building a cold lump in the pit of my stomach the instant 
we walked in the room. Marie, our tour guide, said it was called the Gentle 
Restraints Room. I guess I have a "thing" about having complete freedom to 
move however and whenever I want to move my body. I can't even stand 
starched cuffs or stiff clothing of any other kind that hampers free 
movement. Just the word "restraints" seemed to get to me, cooling the 
excitement I'd been feeling. 

I hung back, reluctant to take more than a couple of steps inside the 
doorway. Laura instantly noticed. She grabbed my nearest hand, urging, "Come 
on, silly! You look like you thought we're about to meet the Frankenstein 
monster!" That attracted Uncle Malcolm's attention and Marie's. Marie 
glanced back with a smile, then turned back, soothing, "Don't feel bad; just 
the name of this room spooks lots of older, more experienced people than 
you. So we have a firm house rule that each one who enters this room must 
personally submit to the very worst kind of restraint ever practiced here; 
so they'll know from personal experience how unjustified their first fears 
were." 

"Everyone?" I wailed. "Why didn't you tell us that before you led us in 
here? I want to get out--" Just then the door slammed shut behind me. I 
wheeled toward it, then stood trembling, fighting to hold down the panic 
rising within me. Ominous sounds of a locking mechanism reached me through a 
sudden quiet. Obviously it was a soundproof room; the low, sweet music that 
had filled the hallway outside suddenly was gone. I was on the verge of 
losing my cool completely. 

As if reading my mind, Marie again soothed, "Don't let the locked door worry 
you; that's just to insure complete privacy and no embarrassment during your 
introduction to the delights reserved to this special room." 

"I want out!" I wailed. 

Laura gave my hand a jerk, warning, "Don't act like a scared country hick! 
You promised--" Marie interrupted reassuringly, "You'll love everything that 
happens to you here. Please trust me." 

Laura declared, "I'm not afraid! I'll go first at whatever demonstration you 
have to make." 

"Good girl!" Uncle Malcolm said with an approving smile. "You'll find 
everything done here is a lot less risky than even the best commercial 
flying. I promised neither of you would experience any actual pain." 

"I'm not afraid!" Laura repeated. 

Marie nodded, smiling, and gestured Laura to her. She turned and led the way 
on to a strange-appearing, large chair in the center of the spooky room. 
Laura released her hold on my hand and followed Marie to the chair. Marie 
indicated Laura was to seat herself in it; Laura did. She regretted it 
immediately. Instantly leather cuffs closed around her wrists and ankles, 
fastening Laura in the chair securely. Her eyes widened with surprise; 
suddenly she didn't look all that cool. I had to hold back an impulse to 
giggle, feeling strangely gratified, certain that Laura wasn't so full of 
cool now. 

Marie patted Laura's shoulder and told her, "Just relax now, and trust me. 
You won't be hurt." 

Laura gave her a sickly smile, obviously having to force it. Again I had to 
repress an impulse to giggle, experiencing strange satisfaction from sight 
of Laura's discomfort. 

Marie stepped to a cabinet at one side against a wall. She opened it to 
reveal an assortment of whips. My impulse to giggle vanished as quickly as 
it had come. I knew a whip when I saw it. Despite the promises of these two 
strangers that Laura and I wouldn't be hurt, a whip was a whip and whips 
hurt whatever they were used on, animal or human. I'd seen whips used back 
home on the ranch. 

Again as if reading my mind, Marie turned to me, inviting, "I want you to 
come examine these. You'll find none of them is really as frightening as 
they may look." 

Reluctantly I walked past the suave stranger we'd foolishly agreed to call 
Uncle Malcolm. I went to Marie. As I approached, she extended one of the 
whips from the assortment. Its lash dangled before me. I caught the whiplash 
in one hand and instantly was amazed at its feeling of softness. I found the 
lash was composed of braided strands of soft silk with a dried orange seed 
fastened at the end. Above the lash, instead of braided leather like that in 
a conventional whipstock, were strands of braided velvet. 

"The very worst this whip can do is create a slight stinging sensation in 
the skin," Marie explained. "Being lashed with any of these whips stimulates 
surface circulation, drawing an increased supply of blood into the skin of 
the area receiving the caress. That heightens both the quantity and the 
quality of sensation in that area. It's very much the same process as that 
used by Scandinavian peoples in their steam baths when they flail each other 
with the tender tips of small birch limbs. It may make the skin seem to burn 
from its increased supply of blood, but it doesn't hurt. In fact, just the 
opposite." 

Marie then stepped to a panel of toggle switches near the chair. The first 
switch she flicked brought something to life inside the chair. Both armrests 
moved away from the chair, taking Laura's imprisoned arms with them. That 
slow but relentless movement continued until Laura's arms finally were 
extended full length from her shoulders at right angles to her sides. 

Marie stepped in beside her and unbuttoned Laura's blouse. The blouse fell 
open and Laura's breasts escaped their minimal restraint to come springing 
out proudly into full view. Uncle Malcolm licked his lips and murmured, 
"What a pair of fresh beauties!" I noticed Laura didn't look exactly 
thrilled about his obvious admiration. In fact she looked like she was 
feeling just about as uncool as I would have felt in her place. Again I 
found myself feeling strangely pleased by her discomfort. 

Marie stepped back to the control panel and flicked another switch; more 
whirring sounds came from inside the chair. It slowly changed shape, 
becoming a kind of bed upon which Laura was stretched. A doctor's 
examination table would be a better description of it. Of course no doctor's 
examination table has the array of features that piece of equipment boasted. 
For example, a section under Laura's rump lowered at the flick of another 
switch; Marie stepped in again to pull Laura's dress up and her panties 
down, exposing her bare ass to all of us. I began to get a strong hunch 
about what was in store for Laura. 

Obviously Laura did too. She began whining, "I think I'd like to change my 
mind. Please?" 

Marie pulled Laura's panties on down to her ankles, released one ankle from 
the cuff imprisoning it and pulled that foot free of the panties. She had 
the ankle clamped back into the cuff before Laura realized it had been 
momentarily free. Marie flicked more switches. The section under Laura's 
bare ass moved back upward, restoring support to that portion of her body. 
But its upward movement didn't stop; it kept raising until Laura's bare ass 
had been lifted higher than her head or feet, creating an arch of her body. 
While that was happening, the footrests moved apart until her legs were 
spread wide open, exposing her cunt like merchandise on a display rack. She 
squawked again, "Please stop! I've changed my mind!" 

"Never change your mind, my dear, once you've embarked upon an adventure," 
Uncle Malcolm chided gently. "Once you've started, turning back is an act of 
cowardice." 

"But I'm scared!" Laura wailed, then broke off with a gasp because Marie had 
brought the lash of the whip singing down upon Laura's naked breasts. Before 
Laura could tell whether she'd been hurt or not, Marie brought the lash down 
again, then again and again and again. Soon a bright flush colored the soft 
skin of both Laura's breasts. Both nipples were standing rigidly at 
attention as if someone had been sucking and tonguing them. She began to 
squirm and moan, a crooked smile twisting her face, her eyes closed. 
Obviously she was experiencing pleasant sensations as the silken lashes of 
the whip continued caressing her naked boobs. 

Another sharp gasp came out of Laura; the lash had gone singing down into 
her open cunt for the first time. She not only grunted, she farted 
explosively as her belly muscles suddenly tensed with surprise. Instantly 
her face turned as beet red as her tits were. I almost strangled, holding 
back the laughter. It made me feel sadistic, guilty, but I still was just 
barely able to hold back the laughter. 

Laura gasped again, but not so sharply as before, when the lash came singing 
down upon her defenseless cunt and clitoris again. After that her gasps 
began sounding more and more like moans filled with the sound of pleasure, 
excruciatingly intense. 

Just when it seemed obvious that Laura was about to trigger off into orgasm, 
Marie switched the silken lash back to her tits. Each time it hit, streaks 
of glistening moisture were left across the flesh, trails of the slippery 
juices the lash had been bathed in as it had gone singing through Laura's 
open cunt. When those glistening trails were no longer left by the silken 
strands as they caressed Laura's naked boobs, Marie switched the attack back 
to her cunt. She kept it up until Laura again seemed right on the verge of 
blasting out into orgasmic space. Marie switched back to Laura's breasts 
until the strands of the lash again were dry. 

Back and forth, from breasts to cunt and back to the blushing breasts again, 
Marie switched the direction of the caressing blows, never letting Laura 
quite topple over the brink into the release of orgasm. Finally Laura was 
screaming and writhing against her restraints, struggling to thrust her 
blazing cunt upward to meet the ravishing silk, trying frantically to make 
the impact of its caress hard enough to trigger her release. As I watched, I 
no longer felt like laughing; I was scared. Laura looked to me like she had 
been driven to the point of just about blowing her mind. 

Marie finally showed some mercy as she stroked the silken lash downward 
across Laura's rigid clitoris and the open lips of her gushing cunt until 
Laura made it all the way. Once she started, I thought she was never going 
to stop. Laura's orgasm kept on and on and on, with her screaming and 
struggling all the way. Finally I lunged at Marie, pinning the arm that was 
pouring the lash to Laura's pulsating cunt. I yelled, "Stop it, before you 
kill her!" 

Marie didn't offer any resistance. She gave me a wry smile, murmuring, 
"Every one of us girls should be lucky enough to live until we die that 
way." She turned and went to hang the whip back in the cabinet. After that 
she flipped switches that soon had Laura seated in a big chair again. The 
cuffs holding her wrists and ankles were opened, but Laura didn't move; she 
just sat there with a tired but utterly blissful smile spread all over her 
face. I was afraid that she actually had blown her mind entirely, that she'd 
been sent on a trip she was never going to make it back from. Relief flooded 
through me when Laura suddenly exclaimed, "What a way to come! I'd never 
have believed it!" 

"Well, don't be selfish, dear," Uncle Malcolm chided. "Move to a spectator's 
seat. It's Trina's turn now." 

"Don't worry about it!" I snapped. "Trina will struggle, if she has to, and 
just do without her turn!" 

"You surprise me, my dear. You, a girl from old Wyoming, with no sense of 
adventure?" Uncle Malcolm taunted. 

"I'll get all the adventure I need exploring all the various kinds of plain 
and fancy fucking and oral sexual kicks," I countered almost angrily. "But 
this kind of stuff is just a short step away from--" Right there Laura 
turned traitor, interrupting to chide me scornfully, "You're only a short 
step away from being disgusting! You've seen everything that'll happen, so 
you won't get any surprises like I did. Either take your turn or I pin the 
square badge of the 24-carat phony on you, little chum!" 

I could have killed her! I wanted to try ignoring her, but my damned pride 
wouldn't let me. Who the hell did she think she was, anyhow, coming down on 
me like that? I'd taken risks like she'd never taken and had sexual 
adventures like she'd never had. I'd damned well show her where she could 
put her 24-carat phony badge! 

I was so mad I didn't even have regrets or get scared all over again when 
the cuffs locked around my wrists and ankles. Before I sat down in the 
damned trick chair, however, I'd defiantly peeled off my panties and thrown 
them at Marie. Then I'd gotten an even better inspiration; I stripped off 
all the rest of my clothing. I was bare-assed naked when the cuffs closed, 
locking me in that leather overstuffed rig. I went limp against the chair, 
making my flesh like putty as the thing moved under me, spreading my arms 
and legs and hoisting my ass to- ward the ceiling. I'd show them! I'd act 
like this cruddy bondage contraption and the cruddy whips were a big zero, a 
total washout, a complete bore. 

I can say this much for myself; I gave my ambition to get through the 
experience with at least feigned indifference a damned good try. But human 
flesh can endure only so much sensation, good or bad, before automatic 
reactions overwhelm you. 

CHAPTER NINE 

The silky thongs came swishing down against my naked breasts several times 
before I started feeling a thing. During those first few moments I 
experienced a feeling of triumph; I was going to carry this off without 
getting even a half-volt tingle. I thought the orange seeds were all I was 
feeling; they made tiny pecking impacts against my naked tits that were gone 
almost before they registered. The silken thongs the seeds were strung on 
seemed to be hitting my skin too softly to create any sensation whatever. 

The lash kept rising and falling again. I began to notice a glow growing on 
the skin of both bare boobs. I rolled my eyes down as far as I could and was 
amazed to see my damned nipples standing erectly. I noticed the skin beyond 
them was becoming a glowing pink. It seemed impossible, I'd felt so little 
to start with. Startled, I realized I was beginning to feel one hell of a 
lot more the longer this went on. I wondered if I was just letting myself be 
psyched out? 

I'd heard of the Hindu husbands' distraction technique used to heighten 
their control, enabling them to stretch out a screw to the maximum length in 
order to give a wife or concubine or mistress an opportunity to enjoy the 
greatest number of orgasms she was capable of. I determined to see what it 
could do for female control. For the first few minutes thereafter I was able 
to keep my mind crammed with thoughts of every nonsexual thing imaginable. I 
started having hope of success despite my body's attempt to betray me. And 
then my damned mind suddenly joined the conspiracy! 

I found my most nonsexual thoughts being twisted around and suddenly 
revealing exciting sexual suggestions. For example, I was imagining myself 
back home on the ranch watching one of Dad's cowhands fitting new shoes on a 
cow pony in his string. I saw him lift the red-hot shoe out of the fire in 
the forge and hold it over the hoof he was shaping the steel to fit. 
Suddenly, however, the glowing horseshoe turned into a burning cunt. My 
burning cunt! 

Before I could arouse myself from my amazement at the trick my treacherous 
mind had played, the picture changed back to the shoeing scene. The shoe had 
been perfectly fitted and cooled and now was being nailed to the hoof, the 
shoeing hammer rising and falling, delivering steady, rhythmic blows to the 
head of the hor-s e s h o e nail. Then in a flash the hammer changed into a 
stiff male cock, hammering in and out of the naked cunt the shoe had again 
become. 

Worse than that, the cunt in question seemed to have become my own; I seemed 
to be feeling the goodness of that male ramrod sliding in and out of me. 
Then my cunt became the forge, fire blazing in it so intense it was heating 
that iron rod of male hardness to a glowing white heat one degree away from 
the melting point. 

I tried to tear my mind away from it. Any second now that white-hot male rod 
would begin geysering molten metal. I saw that firebox cunt of mine 
transformed into an erupting volcano splashing the sky with molten 
discharges. Concentrating on my now glowing tits seemed a lot less 
dangerous. But when I let the sensation now gorging those tits with 
superheated blood flood through my consciousness, the next thought that 
flashed through was an aching desire to feel Tom sucking and licking at 
those tingling nipples. That's all it took. 

The mere thought of Tom's hot lips and burning tongue on my nipples, 
tingling the way they were right then, blasted me into orgasmic orbit. I 
nearly blacked out. As my grip on consciousness faded, I suddenly felt 
filled with an electric joy of supreme satisfaction; I had beaten Marie at 
her own game! Distantly I heard her exclaiming in dismay, "Good Lord, she's 
already coming! And I haven't even touched her cunt yet! She's fantastic!" 

I heard Uncle Malcolm's awed exclamation, "What pure, exquisite passion! 
She's a master- piece of feminine sexual response! Truly superb! Support 
her, Marie! Support her with continued stimulation!" 

Instantly I felt the caress of the silken lash down across my burning 
clitoris and through the steaming lips of my pulsating cunt. My cunt had 
never felt a caress more delicate, more delectable. The pressure struggling 
to find release within my quaking belly shot upward again; a new intensity 
of sensation created aching, desperate, anguished pulsations. And it hung 
there, achieving no relief. Blow after blow fell silkenly upon my fiery 
cunt, delivering fresh cargoes of sensation to fuel its furious fires. I was 
really blowing my mind. I felt a desperate need to grab my hair to try to 
hold my head on; the cuffs pinning my wrists wouldn't yield. Distantly I 
heard someone screaming. My head seemed filled with flashing confusion, 
blazing colors, swirling psychedelic visions, all awash in fiery, bubbling, 
molten sensation. 

Yet even at the very height of it, I had a yearning awareness of 
incompleteness, of an aching need for fulfillment that only a stiff male 
cock thrusting into my blazing cunt could create. Like oral sex, it was 
creating a blast of sensation for me I wouldn't have wanted to have missed, 
plus it was somehow a whole different bag of sexual sensation. Great as it 
was, a hard male cock used with skill would have felt even greater. Just 
fantasizing the feeling of Tom's sweet cock in that blast-furnace cunt of 
mine shot the sensation off the top of the scale. I felt a little of the 
sense of completeness I'd realized I was yearning for. 

I got so busy fantasizing, sending myself even farther into space, that I 
didn't know when Marie stopped raining the blows of that silken lash through 
my supercharged cunt. I had the illusion of Tom's delectable hardness 
hammering in and out of my lovesick, starving cunt. How I'd been missing 
that lover boy of mine. Now I seemed to be holding him in my hungry arms 
again, filled with the satisfying goodness of his indescribable male 
hardness again. Lordy, what a trip. 

When I finally came back to earth, I found the others watching me in awe. 
Laura looked a little frightened. Later she told me I'd gone right on coming 
for at least a minute after Marie last touched me with the lash. For my 
part, I felt disappointed as I realized Tom hadn't actually been there 
pouring the cock to me like I'd imagined while I was coming. 

When she saw I was back among them, Marie greeted me with a murmur of 
admiration, declaring, "What a talent!" 

Uncle Malcolm exclaimed, "My dear, you've made me bitterly regret the 
promise I gave our hostess." I got what he meant. The platinum-haired, 
big-bosomed owner of this exotic establishment had demanded that because of 
our lack of legal age, everything our dear Uncle Malcolm did with us of a 
sexual nature while on the premises had to be stopped short of penetration. 
He added, voice lowering to a husky whisper, "I never watched anything so 
erotic!" 

I winked at him wearily and murmured, "We aren't going to spend all the rest 
of our lives here under those restrictions, Uncle dear." 

Excitement blazed to fresh intensity in his eyes. He lost his usual cool 
slightly, his voice trembling just a little as he exclaimed, "You're so 
right, you sexy little minx! Haven't we seen enough of the sights--" I 
interrupted, reminding, "It's your turn on this torture rack, sweet Uncle. 
Marie said everyone who entered this room had to--" 

"But your uncle has already been initiated in the delights of the chair of 
bondage and the silken lash!" Marie interrupted quickly. 

Laura proved she was back on my side, speaking up to declare, "Trina and 
I've never seen him initiated. He got to watch us, so we ought to have a 
right to a return of the treat." 

"Fair's fair!" I chimed in. 

Marie glanced at Uncle. He shrugged, then nodded, murmuring, "If the girls 
insist, what kind of sportsman would I be to refuse? As my sweet little 
niece says, fair's fair." 

Marie chuckled, giving him a knowing look, then exclaimed, "Truth is truth, 
too. And the truth is, you were just hoping for an excuse. Weren't you, 
Uncle?" 

Uncle Malcolm chuckled too as he started to get out of his clothes, then 
suggested, "Why don't all of us follow Trina's good example to get into 
something more comfortable, like our birthday suits?" 

Marie and Laura both began taking their clothes off like they were having a 
race, both laughing gaily. Through her laughter Marie de- clared, "Like I 
said... just hoping for an excuse." 

In amazement I asked, "Who needed an excuse? Around a place like this, I 
didn't suppose anyone ever bothered waiting for an excuse when they want to 
do something." 

"Dearie, you'll discover that very few humans, even around a place like 
this, ever get free enough to just do whatever they feel like," Marie told 
me wryly, "without first finding some kind of excuse. Of course, some 
develop a greater talent for finding excuses than most others have." She 
gave Uncle Malcolm a meaningful glance. 

He instantly protested, "Don't look at me. You know how inhibited I was only 
a few years ago, when I first began coming here. I'd have died before I'd 
have shown my naked bod to three lovelies like you three and no excuse 
would've been good enough." 

"Why?" Laura demanded in amazement. "You're about as handsome as a man can 
get, and the more I see of it, the more certain I am that your whole body's 
just as great as your face. Why would you want to hide it?" 

As Laura's question ended, Uncle Malcolm skinned out of his shorts, then 
stood up stark naked. He thrust his pelvic area forward, deliberately 
displaying a rigid penis that was far from heroic in its proportions. It 
looked to me about the same size, perhaps just a bit larger, than Tom's had 
been after I'd given it some steady exercise and it had started growing. 
Uncle Malcolm pointed down at his excited cock and said, "That's why! I 
thought I was a midget in the one department where I thought size was most 
important, especially in the eyes of beautiful women." 

"Men are all such stupes about that," Marie chuckled. "They all seem to have 
been brainwashed by the same fairy tale." She laughed again, then exclaimed, 
"It really is a fairy tale, you know. Only queers have a special love for 
the owners of horsecock-sized joysticks. Most women want to keep as far away 
from that kind as they can get. Who the hell wants to have her cunt 
stretched all out of shape, maybe even torn some, by a horsecock? And the 
stupid bastards who own them are always dimwits who never think of being 
gentle and taking it easy. You can almost count on it that a man with a 
horse-sized cock owns a peanut-sized brain, at least when it comes to what 
he knows about being a lover. More often than not, their kind are nothing 
but bad news to a normal woman. The only kind of woman that kind of man 
might be good for is the sick chick who enjoys being hurt." 

Uncle Malcolm chuckled, exclaiming, "Hurting a woman is something I've never 
had to worry about." 

Marie took him by surprise, suddenly closing the fingers of one hand around 
his cock, then bowing her head to kiss and lick the head of it several 
times. She murmured, "You sweetums... you're the kind of real joystick all 
healthy girls have dreams about. You know how to make love, not war, you 
sugar daddy." 

She straightened, still keeping her grip on his hard penis, and led him to 
the chair. She turned him and fastened him to the chair, belly down. Then 
she flicked switches that laid him down and stretched him out. When the 
movement of the chair ended, Uncle Malcolm lay on his belly, ass in the air, 
legs stretched wide apart. His asshole was exposed, as were his balls and 
penis, hanging from his lower belly. 

"The anus is a potential source of greater sexual stimulation than most men 
ever realize," Marie explained as she selected a whip from the cabinet. "So 
we'll just sensitize the whole area for your sweet uncle." And she sent the 
silk-and-velvet lash she'd selected singing into the crack of his ass and 
downward across the bulging skin of his scrotum and the sensitive underside 
of his hard penis. After only the first half-dozen strokes, his penis began 
to swell and grow and lengthen visibly. Low moans of pleasure were coming 
from Uncle Malcolm. Obviously he was enjoying himself as much as Laura and I 
had. 

When she'd brought a rosy glow into the whole area being stimulated, Marie 
stopped the whipping abruptly. Uncle Malcolm groaned, "Good Lord, don't stop 
now!" 

"Do you really want to waste it this way?" Marie asked. "Wouldn't you really 
rather shove that sugarstick deep up into my tight anus and let the hotness 
inside there melt it while we both get a charge of pleasure?" 

She glanced at Laura and me, explaining quietly and quickly, "Men are so 
limited, com- pared to us. Once you start their geyser pumping, it's all 
over for at least fifteen minutes and often for half an hour or more. They 
can't start all over again and again like we girls can, one time right after 
another. You have to do some planning in order to get the most pleasure 
possible before you let them be triggered into an eruption." 

Uncle Malcolm said breathlessly, "That's been feeling mighty good, but not 
half as delicious as you'd be, sweet Marie. If you'd like to have me, I'm 
all yours. Just get me free of this damned contraption." 

"Can we really watch?" I asked, suddenly breathless with excitement. Marie 
gave me a sly smile and winked a promise. 

CHAPTER TEN 

Marie handed the whip to me. As I turned toward the cabinet to put it away, 
she stopped me, declaring, "I want you to use that, sweetie." 

I turned to stare after her in surprise as she went to release Uncle 
Malcolm. "On me," she added, over her shoulder. 

"What?" I asked in amazement. 

She was opening the wrist and ankle cuffs without changing the mechanism 
back into the form of a chair. Without glancing around, she explained, "I 
want you to sensitize my anus the same way you watched me sensitize 
Malcolm's." 

"You want me to use this whip on your asshole?" I asked incredulously. 

Marie glanced around frowning as she opened the last cuff. "Anus, not 
asshole, sweetie. Don't be vulgar." 

I told her, "In Wyoming an asshole's an asshole and the only vulgar people 
are hypocrites who pretend their choice of words can make the difference 
between something being refined or vulgar. Don't lecture me or I'll do more 
than just sensitize your asshole. Dig?" 

Marie's brows raised. "My, my, but our little kitten seems to have claws," 
she murmured. "All right, sweetie... I want you to please sensitize my 
asshole." 

She stretched herself in the place Uncle Malcolm had just vacated, he closed 
the cuffs upon her that she'd just released him from. As the last one 
snapped shut on Marie's ankle, he glanced at me, exclaiming, "Go!" 

A strange feeling of satisfaction went through me as I raised the whip. I 
sent the lash whistling down into the open crack of Marie's ass; it brought 
a low, sighing grunt out of her. I raised the whip and sent it singing down 
into that unprotected valley of flesh again and again and again. Marie's 
moans became louder each time the lash fell. Something about whipping her 
that way was stirring a wild excitement within me. It seemed almost as if I 
was making love to her. It was weird, but I felt it happening, felt my own 
blood heating up, felt the slippery sweat of excitement begin flowing in my 
cunt again. Suddenly I was wondering if that's exactly what Marie had 
anticipated would happen to me? And if she had, why she'd hoped it would 
happen? 

Moments later I found out. Marie signaled that she'd been sensitized enough. 
In fact she later claimed that if I'd hit her half-a-dozen times more, she'd 
have come; gone into orgasm was the way she put it. Anyhow, as she crawled 
off the rack of bondage, the first thing she said was, "I hope you're as 
good with your tongue, sweetie, as you were with that whip. I want you to 
lick my vulva and pull my nipples while Malcolm shoves that hard sugarstick 
of his as far as he can up my asshole." As she said the last word, she gave 
me a little smile, wrinkling her nose. 

"What do I get to do?" Laura protested, clearly afraid she was going to get 
left out. 

"You'll play the hardest part of all," Marie told her with a quick glance. 
"You'll be the unselfish Good Samaritan who gives whatever's needed by 
others and doesn't receive one thing in return. You get behind dear Malcolm 
and lick his burning anus and scrotum while he pours his candy stick into 
me. Okay?" 

Laura nodded. "Okay." 

"Places everybody!" Marie said in a loud voice. 

Uncle Malcolm chuckled, murmuring, "Are you giving me the needle, you minx? 
Trying to sound like you're the big movie director on this stage?" 

"How'm I doing?" Marie demanded in a teasing tone as she got down over me on 
her hands and knees. 

"Great!" Uncle Malcolm chuckled, getting down upon his knees in position 
behind her. He gripped Marie's hips with both hands. Looking up between her 
legs as I lay on the floor below her cunt, I could see the swollen head of 
his stiff cock start closing in on her asshole. But she abruptly dropped her 
tits and belly right down against me, tipping her pelvic area to aim him 
into her cunt instead of her asshole. 

"Stir around in my honeybox for a minute or so, first," she directed 
quietly, "to get him good and slippery with lubrication before you try 
fitting him into tighter quarters." 

"I'll tell you just one thing," Malcolm told her breathlessly as the head of 
his cock disappeared into Marie's slippery cunt. 

"What's that, lover?" she asked. 

"This production you're directing may be an artistic masterpiece," he told 
her as he shoved the entire shaft of his hard cock into her cunt to its 
roots. Drawing it out for another inward stroke, he added, "but it'll never 
get even an X rating on the big screen. It's just too unconventional." 

"Who cares?" Marie sniffed derisively. "I'm a true artist. My masterpieces 
are created for my own personal pleasure, not in the hope of winning fame 
and filthy lucre. Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" 

That groan of pleasure was a phony, but it gave me a sudden inspiration. I 
raised my head, bringing my mouth to Marie's clitoris, as Uncle Malcolm's 
hard cock stroked in and out of her cunt. Before she realized what I was up 
to, I sucked her clit into my mouth and began licking it. That brought a 
genuine, anguished sounding "Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" gasping out of her. 

Uncle Malcolm warned sharply, "Not yet, you passion pot!" Directly above my 
face he jerked his cock out of her cunt, obviously thinking he'd done 
whatever had her sounding like she was on the verge of coming. He raised her 
upper body with an impatient lift, changing the angle of her ass. He shoved 
the slippery head of his cock into Marie's asshole while I watched, sucking 
and licking at her drooling cunt not more than an inch below. Another long, 
"Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" came out of Marie as his cock slid into her. 

Right behind that a startled-sounding, "Son of a bitch!" came gasping from 
Uncle Malcolm explosively. 

Instantly I heard Laura asking in a frightened voice, "Did I hurt you?" 

Then Uncle Malcolm was urgently reassuring, "Lord, no, sweets! Your tongue 
just felt so good it startled me. It didn't hurt me! I've never had such a 
sensation!" 

I started to giggle and suddenly fingers closed upon one of my nipples, 
giving it an affectionate tug. Hot lips and a fantastic tongue closed over 
my feverish cunt and began sucking and licking. Instantly my giggles changed 
into an anguished moan. The fantastic tangle the four of us were in had 
excited me far more than I'd realized. Now I suddenly felt like one more 
lick of Marie's tongue through my steaming cunt would send me into orbit. 
The surface skin throughout my whole cunt area was still fantastically 
sensitized from the erotic strokes of that silk lash Marie had whipped my 
cunt with earlier. My cunt had never been so sensitive, so loaded with 
sensation. 

Marie's hot tongue went licking through my crack again. Just as I'd 
expected, I started coming! But I fought to keep from blacking out, to keep 
from drowning in my own raging sea of swirling sensation. I had some giving 
to deliver in return for the supercharge of pleasure I was getting. 
Frantically I fought to keep from being overwhelmed by the tidal waves of 
sensation roaring up through me from my pulsating cunt. Furiously I kept 
lapping and sucking at Marie's fiery cunt and pulling at the hard nipples of 
both tits. Suddenly her cunt began to quiver against my lips. Then it was 
wracked abruptly by powerful spasms as she came too. 

It brought a scream out of Marie. But her voice was nearly drowned out by a 
bass yell of excruciating anguish as Uncle Malcolm hammered his cock in and 
out of Marie's tight asshole frantically. Talk about simultaneous mutual 
orgasm! Just a conventional two-way heat can be pretty far out, but this 
three-way thing we'd touched off was really wild. The excitement within each 
of us seemed to be replenished faster than it could be discharged through 
our pulsating genitals, as if it was being doubled and redoubled by our 
awareness of the ex-- citement of each of the other two. 

I'd started coming first, but my orgasm seemed to get more intense as it 
went along. Finally it got almost painful, like the whole lower part of my 
belly was being turned wrong-side out. When that hurricane of passion 
finally ended, all three of us were drenched with sweat. The outline of my 
back was imprinted upon the rug in sweaty dampness when I finally got enough 
strength to get up. 

Laura exclaimed brightly, "That looked like a pretty wild trip for all you 
guys!" 

Marie glanced at her, then at Uncle Malcolm and me. Finally she declared, 
"If there's a law that says a Good Samaritan has to always give but never 
receive, I say it's time we repealed it!" 

"Second the motion!" Uncle Malcolm agreed. "I'll suck her nipples." 

"And I'll lick her sweet cunt," Marie volunteered. "Trina, you kiss her 
anus... asshole to you." 

An excited shriek came out of Laura. She tried to dodge away and run for it. 
She wanted to play the coy female, to make a game of it, to make it appear 
the thing she actually wanted desperately was being forced upon her. But 
Uncle Malcolm's hand was too fast; he grabbed her before she could get her 
playful sprint started. 

Laura shrieked again. She started struggling, acting like she was desperate 
to get free. That seemed to surprise Uncle Malcolm. I think Laura might have 
escaped his grip, but Marie grabbed her too just then. I was right behind 
Marie. 

We took Laura to the floor in a screaming, yelling tangle of wildly 
thrashing arms and legs. Once we were all on the floor together, Laura's 
excited screams abruptly turned into strangled gasps. Uncle Malcolm had 
managed to suck both her rigid nipples into his mouth together. An instant 
later her gasps turned into an anguished moan. Marie's mouth had closed upon 
Laura's cunt, which obviously was still as supersensitive as mine was from 
the whipping. Then I got my tongue into the crack of Laura's ass. The first 
lick I made up across her quivering asshole drove an anguished-sounding 
scream up out of her that was no put-on. 

Only a split second later all the muscles throughout Laura's entire ass cut 
loose with pulsating spasms; we had her launched and heading into space. One 
quavering, continuous scream came out of her as she went. The three of us 
were overwhelming her with sensation from so many different areas. I began 
feeling really scared we might be making her actually blow her mind 
completely. 

I didn't know whether I should keep on licking Laura's pulsating asshole or 
not. She helped me make up my mind; she cut loose with a long series of 
staccatolike farts. They came whistling from her each time the pulsating 
muscles around her asshole relaxed momentarily before clamping down 
frantically tight again. Believe me, I got my face to hell away from her 
line of fire. 

But Marie on the floor under her kept right on lapping away at Laura's 
quaking cunt like a greedy bear licking honey. And Uncle Malcolm went right 
on gobbling Laura's tits like he was determined to make all of them 
disappear into his greedy mouth at once. Laura didn't even seem to miss my 
tongue on her asshole; she kept right on giving out that moaning scream, 
coming and farting and coming some more. Her eyes were rolled back in her 
head, her mouth hung open, then clamped shut to grind her teeth. Her whole 
body was trembling and shaking, kind of like she was in the throes of some 
kind of fit. She looked to me like she'd really freaked out all the way, 
like she might be getting out beyond the point of no return. 

Before I could do anything, however, Laura suddenly collapsed on top of 
Marie and Uncle Malcolm, her arms and legs giving away like all her bones 
and muscles had turned to jelly. Marie jerked her head out from under Laura 
gasping for breath. She'd been nearly smothered by Laura's cunt being 
plastered down hard over her face. At the other end, Uncle Malcolm had to 
come up for air too. But Laura kept right on moaning, her whole body jerking 
slightly with convulsive little tremors, for at least another minute after 
they'd quit teasing her cunt and tits. The convulsive tremors finally 
stopped. She just lay there like a collapsed balloon. Whimpering little 
moans still came out of her from time to time. I was really scared Laura'd 
never be the same again. 

After another minute or so, she began to struggle and slowly turned herself 
over on her back. At first her face was just a blank. Then she got her eyes 
focused and looked up at us. Relief flooded through me when her blank 
expression changed into a big, blissful smile. She murmured, "What's next, 
fearless leader?" 

CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Marie took us from the Room of Gentle Restraints to an elaborate gym. "Top 
physical conditioning is very important to us in our profession," she 
explained in response to the wide-eyed look of surprise Laura and I gave the 
room. But we quickly discovered she hadn't taken us there for a workout. We 
followed her into another room opening off the gym and found there a big 
sauna bath, a steam room adjoining, and a Roman bath as large as a small 
swimming pool. 

I stooped and dipped a finger into the water, expecting to find it warm; 
instead it was freezing. 

Marie chuckled at my startled look. "It's refrigerated," she explained. 

"Refrigerated?" I exclaimed. "Why?" 

"To pull the water temp down almost to freezing," she told me. "But why?" I 
insisted. "So you can do like the Finns and other Scandinavians do at their 
rural bathhouses." 

"Do what like they do?" 

"First steam yourself in the sauna or steam room until you look like a 
lobster," Marie explained, "then run and jump into the icy water and splash 
around a minute or two before you have your rubdown." 

"That's complete insanity!" Laura exclaimed, expressing my sentiments 
exactly. 

"You'd be amazed how sexy it leaves you feeling," Marie said. "Practically 
all Scandinavian people practice it in one form or another. Of course, they 
usually don't have this kind of convenience, particularly in rural areas." 

"I don't want to hear about it," Laura declared. 

But Marie kept on as if she hadn't heard. "They have to break a big hole 
through perhaps two feet of ice over the water of a river or lake. Then they 
all go into the bathhouse and sit around steaming themselves, men, women, 
and children, all together, all bare-assed nude." 

I said, "If they'd get smart and leave the kids at home, that sounds like it 
could get real sexy." 

Laura chimed in, "I'll bet it can get sexy even with all the kids right 
there. That's probably why someone came up with the idea of jumping into 
cold water, to keep it from turning into an orgy. I'll bet that may even be 
where the expression about throwing cold water came from." 

"Anyhow," Marie went on, "they race from their steaming bathhouse into below 
zero weather outside and jump through the hole in the ice into that freezing 
water." 

"Just think how many hundred thousands of beautiful masculine hards that 
must have completely wilted," Laura wailed, "That's real sadism or 
masochism!" 

"That's real insanity!" I exclaimed. 

"It probably originated as a primitive method of birth control," Laura 
suggested with a giggle. 

"It's really not all that bad with all the comfort and convenience we have 
here," Marie insisted. Turning to Uncle Malcolm she proposed, "Come on, 
Malcolm, let's show these two sissies." 

He nodded. "Whatever you say, fearless leader." Marie gave him a half frown, 
half smile, protesting, "Don't you start that!" Then she pointed to a big 
shower stall, glancing at Laura and me, suggesting, "You two can be square 
and conventional and wash off the perspiration in there, if you want to, 
while Malcom and I get steamed." 

Fifteen minutes later Laura and I had finished our shower so long before 
we'd almost forgotten about it. I, for one, had begun wondering if Marie and 
Uncle Malcolm had sneaked out somewhere and left us there like two snipe 
hunters. 

Then the steam room door flew open abruptly and Marie appeared from the 
cloud of steam that came billowing out. She was beet red all over. Tits 
swinging, she sprinted to the Roman bath and jumped into the freezing water. 
Just watching it made me cringe. Right on her heels came Uncle Malcolm, just 
as lobsterlike all over as Marie. He went into the cold water with an even 
greater splash than she'd raised. I expected them both to have heart 
failure, turn stiff as boards, sink to the bottom, and drown. But an instant 
later they both surfaced, gasping, teeth chattering. The lobster look was 
entirely gone, leaving Marie's skin a creamy white and Uncle Malcolm's 
looking like it belonged to a marble statue. 

Laura and I grabbed big towels and ran to help them climb from the freezing 
water. I happened to draw Uncle Malcolm. I began rubbing him down as he 
walked shivering to a nearby table. He grabbed a towel and began drying his 
hair while I toweled off his legs and lower belly. His penis had shriveled 
up into little more than a soft thumb of flesh, the head of it a 
purplish-blue from the cold, I guess. 

Impulsively I bent over it and kissed it. I giggled at the little gasp that 
brought out of Uncle. He stood frozen for a moment, both hands still holding 
the towel to his head, neither of them moving. As if surprised, I said, "You 
felt that!" 

Uncle nodded, then murmured, "He may look frozen to death, but you could 
thaw him out real fast if you decided to give him mouth-to-mouth 
resuscitation." 

"Would you enjoy that?" I asked coyly. 

"Why don't we experiment, find out?" he pro- posed. 

"That won't violate your promise to the boss lady?" I asked. 

"I'll risk it," he murmured. One of his hands came down from his head to cup 
one of my naked boobs gently. "Sweet Trina," he said in a husky whisper, you 
look delectable." 

I let my knees hinge, sinking toward the floor. His hand lowered with me, 
continuing to firmly cup my tit, his thumb and forefinger caressing the 
nipple between them. When my mouth was level with his shriveled cock, I 
discovered it no longer was quite so shriveled; it was starting to show 
signs of renewed interest in life. I stuck out my tongue and gave Uncle a 
drooling lick, starting at the bottom of his balls and ending at the 
purplish-blue tip of his reviving cock. For an instant he shook like a chill 
had hit him. I closed my lips around the head of it. As I started sucking 
it, I teased the sensitive underside with the tip of my tongue. I felt his 
cock begin to swell in my mouth like a balloon being inflated. A gusty gasp 
exploded from Uncle Malcolm. I pulled away instantly, releasing him from my 
mouth, and looked up to ask innocently, "Did I hurt you?" 

"If you did, please hurt me some more," he said tightly. 

I glanced back at his cock. I was amazed to find it had more than doubled in 
size in just those few seconds and was still ballooning. As if reading my 
mind, he said, "Something about you shoves my blood pressure right off the 
scale." 

I started to suck it back into my mouth, his obvious rekindling of 
excitement beginning to create a new buzz in me. Before my mouth touched his 
cock again, Uncle Malcolm caught me under the other armpit with his other 
hand, leaving the towel draped upon his head. He raised me until I stood 
straight before him. He suggested, "Why don't we make this an ex-perience of 
mutual pleasure? 

I enjoy just giving you pleasure," I told him. 

He countered, "But you'll enjoy it even more if I'm doing something to you 
too that creates pleasure." 

As if to prove his point, he drew the fingertips of both hands forward from 
my armpits along my mannary glands. I was amazed to feel a rising tide of 
sensation being created throughout the rest of my full breasts, filling them 
with an electric tingling. My nipples were suddenly like two tiny male 
cocks, rigid with anticipation. And that anticipation skyrocketed the 
voltage of the sensations. 

Before those caressing fingertips reached my nipples, already aching for 
their touch, he stopped their forward movement. I was ready to protest, but 
went mute when he again touched my breasts just under my armpits. He started 
another long, slow forward stroke along the swelling fullness of my breasts. 
The closer those caressing fingertips approached to my arching nipples, the 
more electrifying became the flood of sensation surging out of my breasts 
and down into my crotch. Suddenly my clitoris was burning with excitement. 
The lips and inner surfaces of my whole cunt were oozing with its slippery 
sweat of excitement. 

Uncle Malcolm's magic fingertips bunched closely, nearing my tingling 
nipples. Thumb and forefinger on each side closed upon my nipples and began 
gently pulling them. I realized abruptly that my response to him was 
strangely intense and amazingly rapid. Something about him was shoving my 
blood pressure up off the scale, too. He sensed it and gave me a pleased 
smile. He asked, "Isn't that a lot better?" 

I nodded mutely, then remembered how this had started and glanced down at 
his cock; it was standing proudly at attention. Uncle Malcolm noticed my 
glance and chuckled, explaining, "Nothing revives my sexual capacity faster 
than the stimulating sight of a beautiful young nymph like you responding to 
my caresses. That's the greatest aphrodisiac I've ever found. It does 
something magical to the male ego that makes the penis swell with pride, 
even sometimes when I don't really want it to." 

Marie spoke up, declaring, "This may be a great place to take a bath, but 
this floor's not my idea of an ideal place to make love. Why don't we 
adjourn to my apartment? There's soft carpet on the floor. Even a big bed, 
if you want to use it." 

"Good idea!" Uncle Malcolm exclaimed. He grabbed my hand. "Come on!" 

"What about our clothes?" I protested as he hurried me toward the nearest 
door. 

He pretended to misunderstand, declaring, "Clothes only get in your way when 
you're enjoying the fun and games we have scheduled. We won't need them 
until later." 

We went tripping down a long hallway from the gym to Marie's personal 
apartment without running into any other patrons of the exotic 
establishment. The possibility of such an encounter seemed to only heighten 
my excitement. By the time the door of Marie's apartment closed behind us, I 
was burning with desire to be fucked. Not licked or sucked or fingered. Not 
even the sophisticated substitute of silk and velvet whipping in restraint 
would satisfy my craving. I felt a deep, gut-aching need to be treated to 
the joys of an old-fashioned fucking. 

I gripped Uncle Malcolm's rigid cock gently but firmly, like it was a 
handle, and turned him to me there just inside the door. "I want you in me," 
I whispered. "I've had everything else except a good old-fashioned fuck, but 
that's what I really need. I haven't had a fuck since I left Wyoming and 
I've stood it as long as I can. Won't you--" 

"I promised not to!" Uncle Malcolm interrupted. 

"Your friend'll never know," I protested. 

He chuckled with a wry expression. "That's what you may think. She has every 
move we've made on magnetic video tape." 

"What?" I screeched. 

He nodded. "Closed circuit TV cameras every- where. We'll see some of it 
later. Anything you do here is like putting on a performance in a fishbowl." 

"Good Lord," I gasped, "what about blackmail?" 

"That's the whole idea," he told me calmly. "What?" 

He nodded. "A very limited or selective kind of blackmail. No one can talk 
about what goes on up here without inviting personal exposure with motion 
pictures and soundtract to render a denial impossible. Consequently, in all 
the years since the lady started this business, not one client or even a 
one-time visitor has ever breathed a word to anyone outside about its 
existence." 

"Good Lord, where's my clothes?" I demanded. "I'm no exhibitionist! I can't 
enjoy sex in a fishbowl! Let's get out of here and find a nice motel where 
we can do whatever we want to without anyone taking pictures." 

"I have a beach house and private beach above Malibu that will do far better 
for that purpose than a motel," Uncle Malcolm told me. "But let's not rush 
it." 

"Rush it hell!" I snapped at him. "I can't get back into my clothes fast 
enough. I don't even like having candid pictures taken of me when I'm 
dressed." 

I suddenly realized I still held him by his rigid cock; I jerked my hand 
away like it felt red-hot. I glanced around guiltily, searching for the 
gleaming eye of one of those damned hidden cameras. 

"What about our little party?" Uncle Malcolm asked, disappointment in his 
low voice. 

CHAPTER TWELVE 

Before I could respond to Uncle Malcolm's question, Marie spoke up, asking, 
"Will you excuse us girls for just a few minutes, Malcolm honey? I want to 
show our two bunnies something in the powder room." 

That surprised me. I glanced at Laura. She made a gesture with her head, 
telling me to come on and ask any questions I had later. The three of us 
trooped away into Marie's luxurious dressing room and bathroom. Once the 
door was closed, Marie turned on me, demanding, "Why the hell don't you 
smarten up and stop this hick-from-the-sticks act? You don't turn a man like 
Malcolm on the way you have, then just tell him to forget about it and put 
your clothes on and go home." 

"Don't you talk down to me, damn you," I snapped right back. "Why didn't you 
tell us about the son-of-a-bitchin' TV cameras in the very first place? I'd 
never have done anything to turn him on if I'd known about them first." 

"You wouldn't know about them now, if it'd been left up to me," Marie shot 
back at me. "You're a spoiled, empty-headed little brat who can't stand 
knowing too much without having it blow your simple mind. Malcolm was a fool 
to have told you anything. He should've known better than to've tried to 
treat you like an adult. I suppose I really shouldn't feel sorry for him." 

"Screw you through the ears," I told her. "You don't feel sorry for him at 
all! You're jealous, that's what's got your persimmon cunt turned 
crosswise." 

"I'd be as simple-minded as you are if I didn't wish I could turn on a man 
like Malcolm the way you seem to," Marie declared frankly. "When a man like 
that goes for a girl, he can do a lot for her in more ways than one." 

"He'll probably never invite us out ever again if you disappoint him now," 
Laura chimed in. "Why'd you have to go teasing him all up like you did if 
you weren't going to go through--" I cut in sharply, "Because when I was 
teasing him up, I didn't know we were on candid camera! Haven't you been 
listening?" 

Laura glanced at Marie, appealing, "Isn't there someplace--" 

"My walk-in closet there," Marie interrupted, gesturing to a door opening 
off the dressing room, "doesn't have a camera covering it. And the floor's 
carpeted." 

"Why didn't you say so in the first place, in- stead of making with the 
lecture bullshit?" I demanded. "If you're really so worried about him not 
getting disappointed, get your ass out of here and send Malcolm in." 

A minute later Malcolm joined me as I stood in Marie's closet gawking at the 
biggest array of the most beautiful dresses I'd ever seen in one place. And 
shoes! I hadn't dreamed any one woman in the whole world could own so many 
different pairs of beautiful shoes. I guess I must have looked a lot like 
some drooling-mouthed kid in a candy store, the way Malcolm chuckled. 

Then he asked, "Would you like to own a closet like this?" 

I said, "You can keep the damned closet, just give me all that's in it!" 

That brought another chuckle out of him. He said, "You'll likely wind up 
with a closet as big and as well stocked as this for your personal maid. 
Have one at least five times as big and ten times as expensively stocked for 
yourself. I have a hunch you'll develop expensive tastes like wildfire, once 
you get started." 

I put one hand out and brought the fingertips stroking lightly upward from 
Uncle Malcolm's balls to the very tip of the sensitive underside of his 
stiff cock. That brought a little sigh of pleasure out of him. I glanced 
around at the closet where we stood, murmuring, "This little old closet's 
bigger'n a lot of whole bedrooms back in Wyoming. There's a nice soft rug on 
the floor and Marie swears there's no snoopy candid cameras spying on us in 
here. No one'll be the wiser about anything we do in here. Why don't you 
give me that loving big screw we're both wanting so much we can hardly stand 
it?" I stared in amazement when Uncle Malcolm shook his head. He glanced 
past me at the floor-to-ceiling mirror covering the back wall of the closet, 
declaring, "I'd know. I like being able to face myself in a mirror, like 
seeing someone I know can be depended on to keep his word when he gives a 
promise." 

I glanced at our full-length reflection which revealed every move I made as 
I continued caressing his hard cock. I said, in a tone full of innocence, 
"Golly, what a lucky woman your wife is, having a husband who's so utterly 
dependable about keeping his promises." 

He laughed and slapped me on the bare ass affectionately, declaring, "You're 
a real meow cat when you feel like it aren't you? But I'm not the hypocrite 
you obviously think. It just so happens that I don't have a wife." 

"You poor, lonely man," I said in mock sympathy and bent quickly to kiss the 
purplish head of his swollen cock. Then I let my legs sort of crumple under 
me and sank down upon the softness of the thick carpet. I hardly got my ass 
on the floor before he was down there beside me. 

I may have been still only a green kid from Wyoming, but I'd learned that in 
order for any woman to make love to any man the very best she possibly can, 
she has to learn the territory. There's one hell of a lot more to every man 
than his cock that should be loved and thoroughly stimulated in order to 
load him with a full charge of sexual sensations. In fact, his cock is the 
very last part of him that should be given prolonged attention. 

I'd read in one of the books Laura and I had smuggled into our room that the 
very first thing a smart woman does in starting to make love to a man is to 
give her attention to his head. The inside of his head. That she never 
forgets the vital importance of arousing him mentally. That she begins her 
campaign by creating pictures in his mind that will set him on fire. 

I told Uncle Malcolm, "I'm going to eat all of you. I'm going to act like 
you were covered with whipped cream and I'm going to lick and kiss and suck 
every delicious part of you." 

I pushed him down flat upon the floor and bent over him. I murmured, "What's 
more, I'm going to enter you, going to penetrate you, even if you won't 
penetrate me. I didn't promise anyone anything about not doing anything I 
wanted to. And I want to go into you, lover. I want to feel the warmth of 
you around me. When you feel the slippery, sucking, licking hotness of my 
mouth around your tingling cock, I'm going to be feeling the slippery, 
gripping, hungry hot-ness of your ass around my fingers as they reach 
deeply, caressingly far inside you. They'll drive you nearly crazy with 
added sensation as my greedy mouth eats your electrified cock." 

I suddenly covered one of his nipples with a hot, wet kiss and sucked it 
into my mouth. Instantly the tiny nipple became excitedly erect inside my 
mouth. Like a majority of men, he owned a pair of nipples that were more 
sexually sensitive than he may have previously been aware of. While my mouth 
was busy kissing and sucking and teasing one nipple, then the other, my 
hands were busy too. Moving over his body, caressing his inner thighs, 
giving his balls and hard penis a loving flick in passing, then zig-zagging 
upward across his lower belly. I sucked and licked and kissed. I lightly, 
teas-ingly, caressed the front of his body until I had him panting with 
short, gasping little moans of pleasure. 

Then I turned him over on his belly abruptly. Quickly I mounted him, 
pressing my hot cunt against the cheeks of his ass. I wriggled it back and 
forth against him while I kissed and nibbled and licked at his ears and the 
back of his neck. All the while my hands kept busy too. Stroking upward 
lightly, caressingly, along the sides of his upper legs to his flanks, 
thrusting into the hollow just above his hips until I touched the hardness 
of his cock momentarily as it lay sandwiched between his belly and the 
floor. Just a touch was all I'd give it. Each time he'd groan and grind his 
ass upward against my feverish cunt. It was obvious that I was giving him 
sensations that were keeping his blood pressure climbing. 

I kissed and licked my way downward over his marvelous muscular back. Now 
and then I gave him just the tiniest nip with my teeth. Several times I 
discovered places that were especially responsive. Before I reached the 
small of his back, I suddenly changed my posi- tion, switching ends. I 
plastered my hot cunt against the back of his neck and gripped his head 
between my thighs while I resumed the journey of licks and nibbles and 
kisses toward his ass. I put both hands in under him, gripping his hardness 
lovingly with one while the other began tickling and teasing the head of it. 
He began making little humping motions with his hips, fucking my hand as he 
uttered low groans of pleasure. 

My mouth reached the crack of his ass after I'd given him a series of nips 
scattered over the cheeks on either side of it. I released my loving grip on 
his hard cock and thrust both hands in between his thighs and spread his 
legs open wide, opening the crack of his ass, revealing the puckered, 
brownish asshole. It still had the faint, sweet smell of the body lotion 
he'd rubbed into his skin while he was in the steam room with Marie. What's 
even more likely is that she'd rubbed it into his open pores. Regardless of 
how it got there, its fragrance still lingered, clean and sweet and 
inviting. 

I flooded my tongue with saliva and licked wetly down across Uncle Malcolm's 
puckered asshole. He gasped. I licked on across the sensitive area between 
his asshole and his scrotum. His first sharp gasp turned into a sighing 
little moan. I licked on downward as far as I could across the lower part of 
his balls. Then I came back up and started all over again. 

As my hot tongue touched Uncle Malcolm's asshole that second time, an 
explosive, "Good Lord!" came gasping out of him. I stayed right with it that 
time, licking around and around it. Then I began thrusting at it with the 
tip of my tongue, trying to lick into it, saturating it with my saliva. 

When I had Uncle Malcolm's asshole thoroughly lubricated, I raised my face 
away from his ass abruptly. I quickly coated my right forefinger with 
saliva, then gently but insistently began working it into his asshole. That 
brought another explosive, "Good Lord!" out of him. The muscles closing his 
asshole tried to resist my intruding finger, but I worked it through their 
resistance and slipped on inside him. My exploring finger felt the hotness 
of his inner body close around it. It was strangely exciting to me; I felt 
my wet cunt, rubbing back and forth against the back of his neck, grow even 
hotter and wetter as the juices of my rising excitement began gushing from 
it. 

I began thrusting my finger in and out of Uncle Malcolm's tight asshole. A 
shuddering moan came quavering out of him. He renewed the little humping 
movements with his hips. I leaned down and bit him lightly on the cheek of 
his moving ass. Then I pulled my finger out of his asshole and said, "Ready 
or not, turn over!" 

Instantly Uncle Malcolm turned himself under me. Before I realized he was on 
his back, his face was buried in my curly muff. His mouth began to gobble 
greedily at my drooling cunt, drawing a grunting moan out of me. Lord, but 
that slurping mouth and tongue of his felt groovy on my feverish cunt. I 
spread my knees wider, letting my ass sink lower so he didn't have to raise 
his head off the carpet to get at me. It felt heavenly. He began rapidly 
kissing and sucking and tonguing my cunt. 

Like I always say, one good lick deserves another. I gave good measure by 
thrusting my finger back deep into Uncle Malcolm's asshole while I gave his 
cock a hot lick from its roots to its purplish, swollen head. His mouth 
jerked away from my cunt momentarily as he stiffened and gasped another 
explosive, "Good Lord!" 

He grabbed my hips with both hands and plastered his face into my cunt, 
licking and sucking and moaning like he was going out of his mind. I started 
sliding his hard cock into my mouth while my finger thrust in and out of his 
quivering asshole. My feverish tongue was licking around and around his 
swollen cock as it slid slowly deeper and deeper into my mouth. My lips were 
tightening, releasing, and tightening again around his hard shaft like a 
pulsating pussy. 

Finally his whole cock was in my mouth, my lips pressed tightly against the 
mat of curly pubic hair covering the roots of it. That's another nice thing 
about a man who doesn't have a horse-cock; he doesn't dislocate your jaws or 
strangle you when you give him a blow job. I'd learned while sucking Tom's 
sweet young cock to take the whole length of a reasonable-sized cock into my 
mouth without gagging. It takes a little practice, but of course Tom and I 
had gotten a lot of practice mouthing and tonguing each other before we 
finally worked up to real screwing. I'd learned to contract the mus- cles of 
my throat around the head of Tom's cock in a way that nearly drove him right 
out of his gourd. I tried that trick now on Uncle Malcolm. He stiffened 
again under me. His hands released their frantic clutching at my hips and 
ass. A long, strangled. "Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h!" came gurgling out through 
the thick muff around my pussy. I had a trick that would drive even a 
veteran like Uncle Malcolm straight out of his mind. 

I released the grip of my throat muscles around the tingling head of Uncle 
Malcolm's cock and began raising my head, letting his slippery cock come 
sliding back out of my mouth. Instantly he went back to his frantic gobbling 
at my steaming cunt, both hands again clutching at and kneading at the 
cheeks of my ass like they were loaves of fresh dough. 

I began sliding Uncle Malcolm's cock in and out of my mouth in rhythm with 
my finger thrusting in and out of his asshole. I could feel his entire body 
under me, trembling and shaking with the surging waves of sensation I was 
giving him. That seemed erotic as hell to me, really zinging my blood 
pressure, along with the charge of sensation his gobbling lips and tongue 
were creating in my tingling cunt. It was my turn to begin mumbling, "Oh, 
Lordy, Lordy! Oh, Lordy, Lord!" around Uncle Malcolm's rigid cock as it 
stroked in and out of my mouth. 

My first orgasm hit me! Talk about nearly blowing your mind! I had to clutch 
at my consciousness and hang on for dear life to keep from forgetting all 
about what I was supposed to be doing. It was almost more than I could do to 
resist the urge to just let myself go, to just float away on those waves of 
billowing sensation. But I was doing my damnedest to make it as good as I 
possibly could for Uncle Malcolm. I had to stay in control, regardless of 
how hard I might be coming. Just struggling to keep myself under control 
seemed to make my torrents of sensation more intense and my struggle against 
being overwhelmed by them that much more desperate. 

I hung onto myself and kept sucking and licking at Uncle Malcolm's cock and 
stroking in and out of his quivering asshole with my finger. Just as I began 
to come for the third time, a great shudder went through him. His cock began 
jerking with intense pulsations that sent his hot come juice geyersing into 
my mouth and throat in torrents. I nearly strangled, almost unable to 
swallow it fast enough. I gulped Uncle Malcolm's come-juice down, gasped for 
breath, and kept on sucking him until I'd drained him dry. 

I'll say this for Uncle Malcolm, he didn't slack off just because he'd shot 
his wad and the rocket ride was over for him; no, he kept right on scarfing 
away at my cunt like his appetite for my honey box was insatiable. As his 
hard started melting, he sent me shooting off on my fifth orgasm. I let his 
wilting cock slip out of my mouth and ground my teeth the way I'd been dying 
to, my head rolling back against my shoulders. Lordy, but it felt good not 
having to control myself any longer. I pulled my finger out of his asshole 
and raised my upper body a little so I could push my pulsating cunt down 
harder against that marvelous mouth of his. The burning tip of his tongue 
went flitting around my blazing clitoris. I turned loose completely, at long 
last and began to really blow my mind. I heard someone screaming like she 
was being torn limb from limb, then felt surprised as I sensed that the 
sound must be coming out of me. 

There was a sudden blaze of light in that fancy closet which had become my 
entire world. Even though my eyes were clenched tightly shut with the 
excruciating intensity of my raging sea of sensation, I sensed the blaze of 
blinding brightness that suddenly surrounded us. My eyes flashed open. I saw 
concealed lights blazing from all corners of the small room and from 
overhead. I froze, my orgasm chopped short. The lights went off as abruptly 
as they'd come on, leaving only the subdued indirect lighting we'd had when 
our supposedly private session began. 

"What the hell was that?" I demanded in alarm, not absolutely certain my 
mind hadn't blown a fuse. On the floor under me, Uncle Malcolm pulled his 
face from under my cunt, his mouth and chin covered with a lather of my 
foaming juices. He grinned up at me and chuckled, "Smile, sweetie, you've 
just been on candid camera again." He pointed at the mirror. "That's a big 
one-way window and this supposed clothes closet is actually a very carefully 
lighted photography studio especially designed to produce exciting candid 
stills, rather that TV type motion pictures." 

"I could kill you! The whole bunch of you!" 

I fumed. Then suddenly I saw the ridiculous side of it. I looked down at 
Uncle Malcolm and began to howl with laughter. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

I looked like someone suffering the agonies of torture, in the still picture 
Marie and Laura had taken while I was in the midst of that final orgasm. I 
told them, "You'd want to kill anyone who took a picture of you looking like 
that! And then you'd kill them again for making a disaster out of the orgasm 
that had you looking like that!" 

"You think that's something," Marie laughed, "you should see some of the 
moving pictures, and in living color yet, that we get in our sex 
laboratory." 

"Sex laboratory?" Laura and I chorused together. 

Marie nodded. "We have a sex lab in perfect working order. A girl can fuck 
herself with a plastic penis rigged to take motion pictures in living color 
of everything that happens inside her vagina from start to the finish of 
orgasm and a fresh start all over again as long as she feels like keeping 
on. And while one camera's taking pictures of what she's doing inside, 
another's recording all her body and facial movements and expressions while 
machines record her heartbeat, blood pressure, respiration, temperature, her 
brain waves, the works." Laura said, "I think that would be scary, being 
fucked by a machine!" 

"Are you crazy or just completely inexperienced?" Marie demanded in a 
pitying tone. "That machine is a perfect gentleman, and I do mean perfect, 
compared to a lot of the male clods in human form. A girl can control the 
machine. Just wait and see how much control you have over a lot of so-called 
he men." 

I asked, "What do you mean, she can control it?" 

"She can control how fast or slow it shoves the penis to her," Marie 
explained. "She can control how deep or shallow the thrusts into her are. 
She can make it hammer into her hard, if she enjoys having it thrown to her 
roughly, or she can make it be very gentle. Everything from start to finish 
is under her control. She can even select the penis size that feels best to 
her. The only thing she can't do is make the damned thing kiss her and 
caress her breasts. But I think the lady in charge has a mechanical genius 
working on new accessories that'll even do that." 

"Has anyone invented a mechanical cunt that'll do the same thing for a man?" 
Laura asked. 

Marie shook her head. "A woman's vagina is a lot more complex than a penis. 
No mortal genius has been able to duplicate the female vagina 
satisfactorily. But we do have a miracle gadget some men find a lot more 
interesting than a mechanical vagina would be." 

"What kind of a badget would that be?" I asked. 

"It?s a small black box no bigger than a transistor radio," Marie told me, 
"with its own power-pack. It was engineered by Japanese electronics' experts 
to enable an impotent man to become very potent." 

"How on earth can it do that?" Laura wanted to know. 

I chuckled, asking, "You mean it can actually put fresh lead into a limp 
dick?" 

Marie nodded. "It has two electrodes. One fastens to the base of the penis, 
the other is inserted into the rectum. After those electrodes are in place, 
when a man turns on the gadget, it turns him on by sending high-frequency 
impulses into the nerves that control his sexual reflexes. In other words, 
it gives him an immediate and a powerful erection. And he can keep it hard 
and screw with it for as long as he likes. When he wants to come, he just 
turns up the control, increasing the intensity and frequency of the 
electronic impulses being poured into his nerves through the electrodes. In 
fact, he doesn't really even need a woman or her vagina." 

Uncle Malcolm had been laying on Marie's bed listening, resting up from the 
workout I'd given his cock in Marie's closet. Now he spoke up, declaring, 
"Don't kid yourself. No electronic gadget can eliminate a man's need for the 
goodness of a woman's softness and the warmth of her vagina. There's a lot 
more to good sex than just being able to shoot your wad. Like I've said, a 
man needs those good old-fashioned feelings only a real woman can give him. 
That electronic thing will never give real women, like you three, any 
competition whatever. But it might be a wonderful crutch for the poor guy 
who's gotten something disconnected or out of gear in his head that's made 
him impotent. He'd probably think the thing was a godsend during the time 
his head shrinker spends digging out and correcting the cause of his 
problem." 

"You'd better believe it," Marie chuckled. "You should see some of that kind 
after that gadget's enabled them to enjoy their first thoroughly successful 
fuck in months, or sometimes even years. They'll do anything for the girl 
they've just fucked and for our boss lady! They become the most enthusiastic 
supporters this place has." 

Laura said wistfully, "I wish there was something like that for girls that 
we could take back to school." 

"But there is, sweetie," Marie exclaimed. "Let me show you the marvel 
Japanese engineering has created for the lonely girl." She hurried to her 
dressing table, opened a lower drawer, then straightened and turned back to 
us. She was holding up a flesh-colored object that looked exactly like a 
man's penis. She said, "Behold, the latest electronic dildo with built-in 
power-pack and self-controlled rate of vibration. Available in assorted 
sizes to suit my lady's preference of the moment." 

She turned back, stooping again, this time displaying a fancy case 
containing an assortment of the gadgets in a dozen sizes, all the way from 
one about the size of a forefinger up to an eigh-teen-inch horse-cock. 

Laura took one glance at the big one and shrieked, "What's that for?" 

Marie chuckled, declaring, "For helping your pet mare masturbate, I guess. I 
can't believe any woman could ever enjoy a thing that size. Or maybe it's 
just to make a girl thankful she's never gotten cornered by a man who really 
had one that size. I don't know." 

Laura began fingering the various-sized mechanical cocks, acting fascinated. 
Suddenly she asked, "Can I try one?" 

Marie glanced at Uncle Malcolm, frowning as she asked, "What do you think?" 

He sat up on the bed, shaking his head. "Not here. That would still be 
penetration." 

Laura protested, "I suppose you weren't penetrating Trina's mouth a while 
ago?" 

Instantly he soothed, "I'll tell you what. How'd you like a complete set all 
your own?" 

Laura brightened like a kid finding exactly what she'd hoped against hope 
for under the Christmas tree. Almost instantly the look was gone, replaced 
by another frown. She murmured, "If we got caught with anything like that in 
our room, we'd both get kicked out of school and our parents would be 
shown--" Uncle Malcolm interrupted, "I've seen a set that's hidden in a 
secret compartment in what looks like just a handsome piece of expensive 
luggage. You'd have to be caught with the compartment open or try to bring 
it back into the country through customs; otherwise your secret would never 
be discovered. How about that?" 

"But wouldn't that be awfully expensive?" Laura asked incredulously. 

"Don't worry about it," Uncle Malcolm smiled. 

Laura glanced at me, then back at him. Hesitantly she asked, "You mean... 
one for both of us, or... one for--" 

"One for each of you," Uncle Malcolm interrupted, chuckling. "I'm sure our 
hostess has at least two sets of that model in stock. And the dildos in that 
set are all of a little finer quality material and craftsmanship, I think, 
than any of the others. It's the super deluxe, top of the line, set... which 
is what you two lovely nieces of mine are worthy of." 

Laura let out a little shriek of delight, ran to Uncle Malcolm, her tits 
bobbing, jumped on his lap, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. 
He fell back flat upon the bed with her on top of him, her tits pressed as 
tightly against his chest as her lips were against his. She was obviously 
trying to give him a French kiss to end, or outdo, all. 

Uncle Malcolm's limp dick suddenly began stirring with signs of renewed 
life. I glanced at Marie. She was shaking her head, smiling. When she saw my 
look, she murmured, "You two kids sure do have the magic key that turns 
Malcolm on. No wonder he's ready to spend five hundred dollars apiece buying 
each of you a personal set of the world's fanciest dildos to remember him 
by. I just wish I could turn him on like that; it'd cost him one hell of a 
lot more than a lousy thousand bucks." 

I nearly fainted, echoing, "A thousand bucks?" But Marie didn't notice. She 
was moving in to join Laura and Uncle Malcolm on her bed. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

One day the following week I realized that Laura and I were rushing back to 
our room every afternoon after classes exactly like Tom and I had been 
rushing home from school every afternoon a few months earlier. And for 
exactly the same reason: sex! 

However, I won't pretend that lesbian sex or sex with a dildo, even a 
top-of-the-line, super-deluxe dildo, can compare to having sex with a warm, 
loving human being like Tom. On the other hand, I'll have to admit that the 
most loving man, regardless of how skillful he is as a lover, can't 
duplicate the sensations a girl can get from turning on a vibrator dildo in 
her cunt and another one in her asshole at the same time. Lordy, Lord! 

Laura had never been fucked in the asshole before she met me. In fact, she 
admitted just the idea of such a thing had seemed thoroughly dis- gusting to 
her and that she would have refused to even consider experimenting with it. 
Her mind had been closed, like a vise. 

But after watching Uncle Malcolm ream Marie's asshole, then watching me go 
ape with one of my new dildos in mine a time or two, Laura got curious. And 
she was lucky enough to have the right equipment available. I mean, I've got 
to admit that the little dildo in our sets is a lot better than the average 
man's cock to get a girl's asshole accustomed to being fucked. I'd just been 
lucky enough to catch Tom before his young cock began to really grow. 
Otherwise, if he'd hurt me the first time we experimented with fucking that 
way, I'd probably have gotten scared out like a lot of women do and refused 
to ever again try it. 

So Laura was fortunate in having the best equipment available when she 
finally decided to try it; she found that little dildo slipped into her 
tight asshole without a bit of discomfort. She looked at me kind of 
starry-eyed with excitement about this new adventure, and asked, "When I'm 
ready, will you switch it on for me, Trina?" 

I nodded. 

She picked out one of the larger dildos for her cunt, then stretched out on 
top of her bed on her side and closed her eyes. For several minutes she lay 
there perfectly quiet, tuning in on the feel of her body while she turned 
her imagination on full blast. I knew what she was doing because I'd taught 
her the trick. I still saw Tom in my imagination at such times, but I knew 
Laura was dreaming up an image of a TV star. As she lay there she was 
imagining she saw him walk up beside her bed and stop, looking down at her 
naked, hungry body. Then he bent over her, his hands beginning to caress her 
breasts. From there she felt him moving his hands lovingly down over her 
abdomen. Slowly they passed on either side of her aching pussy and began 
stroking the inside of her thighs. 

I could almost tell the exact step where Laura was in her imagination by the 
changes in her breathing. Then her dream man's hands moved to her hungry 
cunt; she switched on the vibrating dildo she held in her hands and applied 
it lightly to her clitoris, letting it become his caressing hands and rigid 
cock in one. 

She took her time, savoring the rising sensations, letting herself go, 
becoming deliciously swallowed up in the continuous, rhythmic stimulation of 
the vibrating dildo. She moved it slowly up and down and around her clitoris 
and finally began sinking it into her cunt. As the vibrating shaft sank into 
her deeper, her pelvis arched up to it, as if she felt her fantasy man's 
body pressing down upon hers when she turned upon her back to welcome him. 

Laura stroked the humming dildo in and out of her drooling cunt half a dozen 
times. Her breath had started coming and going in short gasps. Just watching 
her I knew she was feeling the promise of coming. 

Then she said, "Now!" It came out low but explosively. I reached in between 
her widespread, upraised knees. I found the little con- trol levers of the 
smaller dildo in her asshole slippery from juices that had run down from her 
excited cunt and covered them. I turned the vibration control on full blast. 

Almost instantly an anguished scream of ecstasy ripped out of Laura. 
Frantically I grabbed a pillow from the head of her bed and clapped it over 
her face to smother the piercing sound before she betrayed us. I realized 
suddenly that I was trembling, my straining ears cocked toward the hallway 
outside. 

No sound of anyone hurrying toward our door reached me. I relaxed a bit, 
glancing down at Laura. Both dildos were still in her to the hilt, vibrating 
away steadily, but both her hands were clawing at the pillow I had pulled 
down over her face. It hit me abruptly that I not only had smothered the 
betraying sounds she'd started making, I might also be smothering her as 
well. I jerked the pillow up off her face. Laura drew breath inward in a 
long, frantic gasp. She stared up at me above her, her eyes wide, frightened 
and bewildered. Suddenly I felt like a Judas. I hissed defensively, "You 
started screaming your fool head off!" 

"Sorry!" Laura whispered as her breath gushed back out. She began sucking in 
more, then abruptly gasped, "Oh, Lord!... Lordy, Lord!" One hand grabbed 
frantically for the grip at the base of the dildo buried in her cunt. She 
began stroking it in and out of her cunt again in furious thrusts, as if 
trying to make up for lost time. Words came gasping out of her as she 
promised, "I'll try... not to... scream again! Ohhhh! I'm gonna... come!" 

Once she had started again, Laura came and came, one orgasm right on the 
heels of another. Finally I decided she never was going to stop if I didn't 
help her. I turned off the furiously vibrating dildo in her asshole. The 
internal muscle spasms shaking her whole lower belly began easing almost 
immediately. Within a minute she switched off the larger dildo, acting like 
that took almost all the strength she had left. Her hand fell to the 
mattress beside her, leaving the artificial cock still buried to its hilt in 
her cunt. Laura lay there gasping like a completely winded runner, acting 
too weak to move. I pulled the two dildos out of her and took them to the 
bathroom to wash and sterilize them. 

When I came back into our bedroom, Laura's breathing had returned to normal. 
She still looked limp, but she looked up at me with a kind of blissful smile 
of utter contentment. She murmured, "It really does multiply the sensations, 
just like you told me it would. Terrific! Far out! Right on, and all that 
jazz!... What a trip! Why mess with dangerous drugs when a pair of dildos 
can send you on a mind blasting trip like that?" 

"You liked the feeling it gave you in your asshole, did you?" I chuckled, 
brushing hair back from her sweaty forehead. 

Laura nodded weakly. "I'm hooked, fearless leader. In no time at all you'll 
likely have me ready to try it with a guy." 

"But never with a stranger," I warned wisely. 

"Asshole fucking is restricted to close friends only; men whose sexual style 
and techniques are already well known." 

"And the size of whose male equipment also is well known to you," Laura 
added in the same sage manner I'd used. 

I nodded. 

She was thoughtful for a moment, then tentatively suggested, "How would dear 
Uncle Malcolm strike you as a candidate?" 

"I don't think he's interested in politics," I came right back without a 
trace of flippancy. 

"But he did seem to dig that asshole fucking he did with Marie," Laura 
reminded. 

"The size of his equipment is near perfect," I admitted, "but he's still not 
what I'd rate as a close friend whose sexual style and techniques are well 
known." 

Laura shook her head, then murmured, "Well, I don't know about you, fearless 
leader, but for my part, I can count on one finger the friends that I've 
done the kind of things with that we did with Uncle Malcolm. If he doesn't 
fill the specifications, I'm fresh out of prospects." 

"And as long as we're caged up in this educational prison," I picked up her 
thought, "what chance are you ever going to get to develop any other 
prospects?" 

"Right." Laura nodded again. 

"I see what you mean," I admitted. 

"So what do you suggest, now that you see what I mean?" she wanted to know. 

"I suggest you had a brilliant idea," I de- clared. "I couldn't have thought 
of a more perfect candidate, as you called him. Uncle Malcolm fills the 
requirements perfectly." 

"I'm so glad you approve," Laura simpered coyly, hamming it up. 

"I said the size of his equipment is near perfect," I reminded, "but it's 
still somewhat larger than that number one dildo. More like number three, 
I'd say." 

"So I'm going to have to get down to some serious training," Laura shot 
right back. "I'll be ready. It's a week and a half before Uncle Malcolm 
plans to take us out of stir again. Now let's plan a training schedule 
that'll get us into top form before time for that exciting weekend with 
sweet Uncle Malcolm." 

I said, "First thing on that schedule had better be to get our hands on some 
reserve batteries for our dildos. All the rest of our schedule would be shot 
all to hell if we turned up with dead batteries in the middle of our 
training. Get the picture?" 

"Roger!" Laura exclaimed. "First order of business, fresh batteries in 
reserve at all times." 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

If we needed any further proof of how completely Uncle Malcolm's charm had 
captivated our old superintendent, we got it when she had each of us called 
out of our last class that Friday afternoon. When Laura and I got to her 
office, she greeted us with eyes that were as bright with excitement as if 
she was the one who was looking forward to spending the weekend with Uncle 
Malcolm. 

"Your uncle just spoke to me on the phone," she told Laura, obviously having 
to make an effort to subdue her feelings of inner excitement. "In as much as 
I'd approved his request that you be allowed to be overnight guests in his 
home Saturday night, he asked if you might be allowed to spend tonight there 
too. I agreed. So he'll be here to pick you up at five and take you to 
dinner. I promised him I'd see that you were ready by then. I'm depending on 
you, therefore, not to embarrass me, young ladies. Understand?" 

We assured her we understood perfectly, then we hurried to our room in the 
dorm to get ready. Uncle Malcolm had told us earlier not to worry about 
bringing clothes because he would see that we were provided with suitable 
clothing of every kind we would be needing. So we dressed suitably for a 
dinner date and threw a few spare pairs of panties into the suitcase portion 
of our dildo cases. We didn't dare leave them in our room while we were gone 
that long, anyhow; some snoop might stumble onto the secret catch that 
opened the false bottom. The startling assortment that would be revealed 
once that happened would create a scandal that would not only rock the whole 
school but get both of us booted. So we used them as overnight bags, loading 
in personal items other than the panties, such as makeup and hair equipment, 
toothbrushes, and the like. 

We were waiting at the gate when Uncle Malcolm's gleaming Rolls glided into 
sight promptly at five. His chauffeur put our two bags in the luggage 
compartment, then helped us in while Uncle Malcolm devoted himself to 
further charming our old chief warden. Before he gallantly bowed over her 
hand, kissed it, then turned to join us in the car, she was so enthralled or 
hypnotized I'm sure she would without hesitation have delivered every girl 
in that school into his hand if he had asked her to. 

We all three sat very stiff and proper while the Rolls glided back down the 
street the way it had come, while our old super stood sedately waving after 
us until the grand car rolled out of her sight. Only then did Uncle Malcolm 
give us each a sly smile and lay a sensual hand on each of our nearest 
knees. 

He said quietly, "My dear little nieces, you're both looking even more 
delectable than I remembered. And these past two weeks, I've been doing an 
unusual amount of remembering." 

We both smiled a little nervously, bobbed our heads, and said, "Thank you." 

He said, "Something came up that I had a hunch you both might enjoy." 

On either side of him, we both snuggled closer. Laura whispered in a 
conspiratorial tone, "Please tell us what it is?" 

"You've both heard stories about wild Hollywood parties?" he suggested. 

We both nodded. I felt a special kind of tingling excitement begin vibrating 
rapidly deep within me. 

"Did the stories you've heard sound... exciting?" he asked. 

"Wickedly!" Laura exclaimed. 

I said, "Deliciously, scandalously, breath-takingly!" 

"Good!" he declared with obvious satisfaction. "I felt sure I could count on 
you two darlings to feel that way. The final question I don't need to ask, 
but I'm going to... Would you enjoy being a guest at such a bash? Making 
love with some really big movie stars, perhaps, and no perhaps at all about 
watching a lot of other beautiful and famous people screwing and just 
letting it all hang out however the spirit strikes them." 

"If it wasn't so square," Laura said, "I think I'd faint." 

Uncle Malcolm chuckled and told her, "If you're going to faint at all, do it 
now. Once we get to that party, regardless of what you may see, fainting's 
out." 

"What will we have to--" I began, then changed it to, "What will be expected 
of us?" 

"Not a thing, except to enjoy yourselves," he assured me. 

I couldn't believe it. "But what if some famous movie star should come up to 
one of us and demand--" 

"One of us should be so lucky!" Laura interrupted. 

"But what if it was something we just didn't want to do, even if he was a 
living god? Or what if up close we discovered there was something about him 
we just didn't dig, so we just didn't want to do anything at all with him, 
like even just basic, standard sex?" 

Uncle Malcolm declared, "Anything you don't think you'll enjoy, or anyone 
you don't dig, you simply say no to. And as for anyone trying to demand 
anything, it simply won't happen. But if it did, you tell the demanding 
son-of-a-bitch firmly and flatly to get lost, go to hell, or whatever. You 
see, sweeties, a basic tenet of the so-called sexual revolution is sexual 
equality. Now, where there is equality, no one has any right to demand 
anything. Right? 

Except to demand their rights of equality be respected. So if anyone 
attempts to make any demand upon you, you meet it head on with a demand that 
your equality be respected. Dig?" 

"Dig!" Laura and I chorused. 

Uncle Malcolm chuckled and ran a hand up each of our legs, starting hot 
tingles up my spine as his sensual fingertips neared my cunt. "Always 
remember," he murmured, "you owe it to yourself to never let anyone do 
anything to you that may later cause you to like yourself less. Always 
respect yourself and your rights enough to demand that others respect you 
and your rights too." 

He brought his caressing fingertips forward again to our knees on either 
side of his, then sent them stroking back up our legs under our dresses 
again and on up to our cunts as he said, "For example, if you aren't 
enjoying what I'm doing right now, tell me so flatly and tell me to stop 
it." 

I, for one, told him how I felt about it by clamping my thighs together, 
trying to imprison his sensational hand right where it was. He got the 
message loud and clear and chuckled, sounding pleased and happy. 

The estate where the celebrity orgy was being given was high in the 
Hollywood hills. I'd seen such luxurious places, like everyone else has, in 
the movies. That was my very first actual visit to such a place, however. 
But I tried not to let how thrilled I was show because Uncle Malcolm acted 
so completely casual, like the magnificent place was just another ordinary 
house. But, inside, that big house was really out of this world, and I don't 
mean the floor plan or furnishings, although they were pretty great. What 
was out of sight because so much of it was hanging out in plain sight for 
all to see was the array of bare skin. I've never even had wet dreams about 
seeing so many naked people. Especially such beautiful naked people, all 
gathered together under one roof. 

Our host and hostess met us just inside the front door dressed in absolutely 
nothing but their very attractive birthday suits. We'd driven past two 
security guards at the gate and past a bunch of chauffeurs in a crap game at 
the guest parking area, so I guess our lord and lady of the manor weren't 
worried about being surprised by uninvited guests. Uncle Malcolm had pointed 
out the battery of monitors from closed circuit TV cameras scattered in 
strategic places around the grounds' outer boundaries which enabled the two 
guards to keep a close watch on a lot more than just gate traffic. 

Anyhow, our host and hostess were just as utterly relaxed and gracious as if 
they'd been decked out in the very latest styles. Of course, maybe they 
were, come to think of it. Uncle Malcolm introduced us after they'd both 
greeted him in a way that made it obvious he was an old friend. For example, 
when our beautiful hostess kissed him hello, it was a very long and 
lingering kiss and it was obvious that she was tongue-kissing him. Then 
Uncle Malcolm introduced Laura and me and I almost melted right there, the 
way our dreamy host greeted us. Just his kiss had me nearly ready to come in 
my panties. I was breathless and feeling weak-kneed when his welcome was 
over. 

Only a few short months before I'd felt being held in Tom McKenna's young 
arms was the very greatest thrill I'd ever enjoy. Now here I was in the arms 
of one of the most handsome and sexy movie stars in the world, and him 
totally bare-assed naked at that. I was having a hard time convincing myself 
I wasn't just dreaming. One glance at Laura was all I needed to tell me she 
was experiencing exactly the same kind of fabulous feelings. 

Then our host said "Won't the three of you hurry out of your clothing and 
join the party?" He glanced straight at me again as he added, "The more 
uninhibited ladies are treating us to a strip tease as they undress. But the 
less exhi-bitionistic are welcome to use bedroom, bathroom, hallway, closet, 
whatever takes their individual fancy. Or if you'll feel more comfortable, 
or think you will, in your clothing for a while, do feel free to be 
comfortable." 

"But around a bare-assed mob like this," our lovely hostess chimed in, 
"you'll quickly discover you feel much less conspicuous and far " more 
comfortable without your clothing than you do in it, exactly the way you 
would at a nudist camp." 

Uncle Malcolm chuckled and said quietly, "Let me assure you, dear friends, 
these little sex kittens of mine do come over refreshingly wholesome and 
virginal, but that's simply because they seem able to accept sex as 
something natural and wholesome. I assure you, they are totally uninhibited 
by anything except their awe of famous people." 

Our beautiful host chuckled then, declaring, "They'll get over that long 
before this evening ends. And I'm looking forward to doing all I can 
personally to help convince each of you that movie stars are only people who 
don't fuck a bit differently and probably not a bit better than others." 

"Despite all the extra practice most of us get," his lovely wife chimed in, 
also chuckling. 

I turned my back to him, asking, "Would you unzip me, please? I'd prefer my 
strip to just be a private audition, if that's all right?" 

"Perfectly," our host chuckled again, his strong, sure fingers quickly 
opening the zipper in the back of my dress, "but later you may think you 
wasted it by being so exclusive. You may be amazed to see how many of your 
other screen heroes are here." 

"I'll risk it," I told him, and slipped out of my dress. I wasn't wearing a 
bra, so that left me naked to the top of my sheer panties. Our host's eyes 
widened slightly, appreciatively, as they drank in the sight of my full 
breasts standing out saucily and proudly from my chest. I couldn't have 
asked a greater reward for my inspired daring. 

His wife reached out for my dress, smiling, with no trace of jealousy 
although completely aware of how his eyes were devouring me, and suggested, 
"Let me hang it in the closet, dear, so it won't get wrinkled or soiled." 

I hooked a thumb in the top of my panties and pulled them downward slowly, 
then stepped out of them and handed them out for our hostess to take too. 
But our host caught them quickly from my hand. He raised them like they 
might have been a lace handkerchief, bringing the crotch to his nose. He 
drew a long, inward sniff, then murmured, "Exquisite perfume, and so 
perfectly personal. May I have these for a very exclusive collection of 
mementos which I highly prize? And I'll think again of you, only, each time 
I raise them to my nose and inhale the fragrant scent that is yours only." 

Lord, talk about nearly swooning! My excited cunt was almost dripping with 
more of the personal fragrance he was taking on about. Right then I'd have 
liked nothing better than having a chance to thoroughly anoint his cock with 
that exquisite perfume of mine. I would especially have liked making that 
beautiful cock of his a lot less nonchalant than it looked as it hung from 
his belly almost limply, certainly a long ways from being flamingly, fully 
excited. 

But just then the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of other guests. I 
had no opportunity to do anything just then about making his cock show a lot 
more excitement about its prospects for that evening. But I had a tingling 
hunch that I'd get my chance later. 

Uncle Malcolm and Laura and I moved out of the foyer and into a long hallway 
as our host and hostess answered their door. I helped Uncle Malcolm shed his 
clothes while Laura slipped out of hers. He gave me an affectionate slap on 
my bare ass, then briefly caressed my breasts with those great hands of his 
while I hung his clothes in a closet. While he was fondling my boobs, he 
kissed me on one ear and murmured, "You already have our good host wrapped 
around your pinkie, you know, you little minx. I knew you would; you're 
exactly the type he goes ape over, but I really didn't expect you'd be able 
to captivate him so quickly. You're really fabulous." 

I pushed my ass back against the front of him, felt his cock begin to rise 
and harden, pressing into the crack of my ass. I told him, "You're the one 
who's really fabulous." 

He gave me a little hump, pressing his expanding cock into the crack of my 
ass even harder as he chuckled, declaring, "Like our good host said, just 
wait until you see some of the other men you're going to meet here... You 
may find your eyes being opened to how unfabu-lous I really am." 

I turned myself to face him quickly and said sharply, "Stop it! Don't ever 
put yourself down to me, you hear? Sex isn't a competitive sport. You don't 
have to try to compete with anyone else. That's impossible because there's 
no other man anywhere like you. You're you. You're unique. Very special. 
Fabulous." 

He chuckled, brought me into his arms, kissed me, his now fully excited cock 
pressed between our bare bellies. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

The three of us strolled into the huge living room, Laura on one of Uncle 
Malcolm's arms and I on the other. So much was going on it was impossible to 
take even a fraction of it in at one time. Naked people were everywhere. A 
few couples were actually dancing to sweet, soft, old-fashioned 
tits-to-chest, cock-to-cunt kind of music. As they danced they had to weave 
their way in and out around other couples, in about every imaginable kind of 
fucking position on the floor. Some were merely dwalding at it, others were 
humping but rather unhurriedly and casual as they looked into each other's 
eyes, some even talking, perhaps getting acquainted. A few others scattered 
around the room fucked frantically, eyes tightly closed, faces twisted in 
grimaces, obviously very near to or in actual orgasm. No one else was paying 
any of them much attention. But the whole wild scene seemed as erotic as 
hell to me. 

Then Malcolm nudged me, directing my attention to a threesome directly in 
front of us. A beautiful big hunk of man I recognized instantly once I 
looked directly at him, was stretched out on his back upon a couch there 
having his magnificent cock sucked. Another girl was on ker knees beside the 
one licking and sucking at his lollypop. She seemed to be giving directions, 
as if she were teaching her companion something she hadn't known about the 
art. As we watched, she took over. Her hand replaced the other girl's, 
steadying the movie star's cock as she gave it a long lick from ball's to 
tip. Then she sent her tongue tip flicking up and down a short area of the 
underside just below the tip. 

After a moment she stopped and said something quickly to the watching girl, 
then moved back to let her take over again. The other girl gave the rigid 
cock a long lick from balls to tip, exactly like her teacher had 
demonstrated. Then she repeated the short, flicking strokes with her tongue 
tip against that same area just below the tip. The movie star they were 
practicing on began making little thrusting movements with his hips, 
obviously beginning to feel a real charge of sensation. 

Uncle Malcolm bent his head to mine and whispered, "You'd ought take over 
there and demonstrate your trick of finger-fucking his asshole while you 
give his prick the business with your mouth. You'd have yourself another 
famous fan in just about the time it took you to make him come." 

I murmured, "I might get my hair pulled out, too. Those two others very 
likely wouldn't appreciate my butting in." 

He teased, "Around Hollywood you can't get ahead if you let yourself worry 
about things like that. If you see an opening, you barge in and begin 
showing what you can do. If you do it better than it's been done and that 
puts someone else out of their job to make room for you, that's their worry, 
not yours. That's an old Hollywood custom." 

I gave him a playful bump with my hip, then rubbed my leg lingeringly along 
his as I told him, "My philosophy of life is a flowering tree that grows out 
of the rich soil of a world of abundance, not scarcity. I believe there's 
more than plenty in this world for everyone, so I never have to grab 
anything that belongs to someone else. If I only look around a little, I'll 
find something even better that no one else has a claim on, something or 
someone I can claim and keep as all my own. Or share with someone else I 
love, if there's too much for me alone. I don't think I ever have to be 
greedy, because I believe there's always more than plenty." 

Uncle Malcolm chuckled rather dryly, "If you're talking about the supply of 
attractive men always available, eager, and ready to make love to you, more 
than likely you're right; there'll always be more than plenty. But I'm 
afraid you'll find the supply of some other things in this life isn't quite 
so abundant." 

I suggested, "Maybe that's only because so many still let a belief in 
scarcity make them greedy? I think if more people really let themselves 
believe in unlimited abundance, they'd begin experiencing more and more 
unlimited abundance." 

Uncle Malcolm shook his head, for just an instant looking a tiny bit 
wistful. "I wish I could believe you're right." 

I told him, "Our sexual revolution is proving I'm right. Husbands are 
learning they don't have to own their wife like an exclusive possession in 
order to assure themselves of a constant supply of sex. Instead, they're 
learning that by giving their wife the same freedom they want for 
themselves, they can multiply not only their constant supply of sex but the 
variety of sex partners constantly available to them. They've simply changed 
gears in their heads, substituted a greed-causing philosophy of scarcity 
with a philosophy of sexual abundance that creates freedom and generosity, a 
willingness to enjoy all they can and to share all the rest. Just think what 
might happen if they'd make such a change in their thinking about other 
areas of their lives." 

Uncle Malcolm shook his head, declaring, "Sometimes you kids scare me." He 
gave me a sudden mock frown, demanding, "You sure you're not a commie 
agent?" 

We began chuckling together. On the other side of Uncle Malcolm, Laura broke 
her silence, declaring, "I'll tell you what she is. She's an idealistic but 
sometimes idiotic Wyo- ming hick who thinks no human is really mean, merely 
sometimes misguided. But philosophizing about it in the very middle of a sex 
orgy is ridiculous. Let's stop sightseeing and get involved!" 

"Go ahead," I told her lightly. "Rush in headlong and get involved before 
you have any idea who or what you're involved with. But there's really no 
need for hurry. We're in the midst of Abundance. There'll be more than 
enough and we have all night to enjoy it." 

Just then a hand closed on my free arm. I glanced around. I'd caught the 
sudden expression that flashed across Laura's face and through her eyes just 
the instant before I felt the hand close on my arm. Laura's reaction 
prepared me so that I managed to keep my cool rather than being so surprised 
I flipped out at sight of young godlike owner of that hand. He was merely 
one of the most exciting new male stars in the whole film world, a perfect 
blend of serious mind and godlike body. 

He smiled at Uncle Malcolm as he said, "Malcolm, old friend, are you being 
greedy, trying to monopolize both these sweet lovelies, or are you actually 
looking for an available friend, ready and willing to offer a hand?" 

I glanced down, without even thinking about it, at his cock. Instantly 
surprise went tingling through me, mingled with a sudden, strange 
excitement, but also with an unsure feeling of some alarm; this newcomer's 
cock hung at about half-mast, not limp and not rigid, but even though not 
fully excited, it was more than twice as long as well as twice as big around 
as the biggest cock I'd ever had inside me. Talk about abundance! I wasn't 
sure I wasn't looking at more of it right then than I could do anything 
with. 

I looked up and found him watching me closely. As if reading my mind, he 
murmured, "I'm very patient and very gentle and I always respect my 
partner's right to say no. Malcolm will vouch for me. I'm no brute."- I 
glanced uncertainly at Uncle Malcolm. He nodded. "I'll vouch for Chuck; you 
can safely trust him." 

Just then the popular male star of a TV show closed in on Laura on Uncle 
Malcolm's other side. When she saw who he was, she got so excited she seemed 
to forget all about Uncle Malcolm or anyone else. Almost quicker than I can 
tell about it, Laura and her new admirer were locked in a passionate 
get-acquainted kiss while his hands moved over her body caressingly. I kept 
my hold on Uncle Malcolm's arm. Suddenly I had an inspiration and instantly 
announced, "I think I just might be woman enough to give both you beautiful 
men a time to remember, like even the same time." 

"Terrific!" Chuck exclaimed, then gestured to the soft carpet underfoot, 
inviting, "Let's all lay down and talk this over. Okay, Malcolm?" 

"Sensational!" Uncle Malcolm agreed. 

But I protested, "Can't we go to a bedroom or somewhere with a little more 
privacy?" 

"The bedrooms are the most crowded places in this pad," Chuck declared. 
"There's oodles of room here and everyone else is too busy doing their own 
thing to spend any time watching us. Who needs more privacy than that?" He 
moved his hand from my arm to my nearest tit, cradled it in that hand, then 
bent his head and sucked the rock-hard nipple into his mouth. I nearly 
flipped out! Juices began gushing from away up deep inside my suddenly 
burning cunt right on out to the outside lips of it. My mind might have had 
reservations, but my body didn't seem to have gotten the message at all; it 
was fired up and ready. 

Chuck's other hand closed around my other tit. Then that hypnotizing mouth 
of his switched to that other nipple! My knees went weak. I began to sag 
toward the floor, feeling suddenly powerless to resist. 

Then my new movie-star lover switched those lips and that tongue from my 
tits to my belly. He began kissing and licking his way downward. Sensation 
came surging up through my body until I felt like I was going to choke. I 
seemed hardly able to get my breath. That mouth of his suddenly wasn't on my 
belly any longer; it was licking moistly into the creases between my lower 
body and my inner thighs, right there a scant gasp away from my aching cunt. 
My legs seemed to be turning to water. 

Then his tongue was thrusting into my ravenous cunt; I let go a gasping 
scream and my legs folded. But Chuck's strong, sure hands were on my 
trembling body, guiding me downward. Next thing I realized, I was on my 
knees astride him and he was on his back under me. Both his hands were 
pressed against the sides of my breasts, pushing them together; both my 
tingling nipples were in his hot mouth. I felt nearly ready to come, I was 
so filled with sensation and excitement. I felt something nudging my empty 
cunt and a feeling of overwhelming hunger went through it. I reached down 
between our bellies with one groping hand. 

The shocked surprise that roared through me almost turned me off, his rigid 
cock felt so much bigger than any I'd ever felt before when my searching 
hand found it. It was a long ways from being as big as the horse-cock in our 
assorted set of dildos, but it still felt frightfully long and massive. 
Gingerly I began stroking the huge head of it back and forth through my 
juicy, steaming crack, covering it with a thick coating of lubrication. That 
quickly began feeling so good I found myself forgetting my fear of how big 
it seemed to me. I found myself feeling hungry for it, greedy for the 
sensation of feeling it sliding into me. It became so over powering I forgot 
the fear of it I'd felt only moments before. 

I aimed it into my burning cunt and began bobbing my ass up and down in a 
rapid series of shallow strokes. I felt the lips of my cunt stretching as 
they'd never before been stretched as that great, swollen head shoved into 
them briefly, time after time. But it felt good, I discovered. As my 
confidence grew, I began thrusting against my actor lover's big cock harder, 
sending it deeper. Then a thrill went shooting through me; I felt the strain 
on the stretching lips of my cunt ease abruptly; I realized they'd closed 
behind the widely flaring rim, that the whole big head of his cock was 
inside me, yet there'd been no pain whatever. Actually my cunt had a good 
new feeling of being completely filled. Filled as it never before had been 
filled. Deliciously filled. Totally filled. Satisfyingly filled. Filled to 
its total capacity. 

I eased down cautiously, sending that great swollen head of Chuck's cock 
sliding deeper into me, taking that new sensation of being totally filled 
deeper and ever deeper into my tunnel of love. I felt stretched as I'd never 
dreamed I could stand being stretched. It felt delicious, but it also felt 
as if one tiny bit more such stretching would create not mere discomfort but 
protesting pain. Then I found myself suddenly wondering if I was being 
ruined for male cocks that were any smaller? Like Uncle Malcolm's? Or Tom's? 
And that thought frightened me. I very nearly jerked Chuck's huge cock out 
of my cunt and went scrambling away from him. I knew if I hadn't been caught 
up in the super excitement of the orgy, of all the gasping and moaning and 
fucking going on all around me and the intense stimulation of actually 
watching the passionate struggles of all those other people, I never would 
have considered attempting to take such a cock into myself. I'd read about 
other people who in orgy situations discovered themselves doing things 
without a second thought that ordinarily they might have found repulsive. 
Now I knew how frighteningly true it was. 

All that flashed through my mind in a split second; in a fraction of the 
time it's taken to tell about it. I raised myself away from that handsome 
young actor on the floor under me, intending to end my coupling with him and 
his huge cock before my cunt was permanently damaged, permanently stretched 
too badly to ever give satisfaction to a smaller cock. I'd been looking 
forward to being fucked by Uncle Malcolm. And I'd anticipated going back 
home again at the end of the semester, having exciting times with Tom when 
he'd fuck me again and again for hours on end like he'd done those glorious 
nights we'd had together before my exile to California. 

But as Chuck's great cock came sliding back out of me, the rim of its big, 
flaring head bringing a wave of added sensation rippling along with it 
through the tissues of my vaginal tube, my determination to end that 
coupling began to weaken rapidly. I don't actually believe it felt any 
better, really, than Tom's much smaller cock had felt in me, but it did feel 
different. Something about the way it stretched my cunt so close to the 
point of hurting, about the feeling that it filled my straining cunt totally 
and completely, seemed intensely exciting and different. That difference 
seemed so good VI felt more and more reluctant to end it with the abruptness 
I'd intended. 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

I felt the inner lips of my deliciously stretched cunt straining even more, 
opening more to let that flared rim on the huge head of Chuck's cock out. 
The feeling of strain was so intense it was right on the border of pain. If 
it had hurt, I'd have had no problem; I'd have jerked my punished cunt free 
of its tormentor. But it didn't quite hurt. Instead of actual pain, the 
intense pressure seemed to create an excruciating kind of pleasure. It's 
amazing how fine the borderline between pain and pleasure can sometimes be. 
It's just as amazing how feeble one's will power can sometimes become in a 
contest with sensations of intense pleasure. All I had to do was to raise my 
hips just a fraction higher and Chuck's huge cock would come sliding 
entirely out of me, freeing my cunt of the terrific stresses it created. 

But those terrific stresses were feeling increasingly delicious. Almost 
without any conscious decision about it, I let my hips begin sinking again, 
driving Chuck's great cock back into my depths. The sensations it created in 
my totally occupied cunt were becoming intensely pleasurable. They washed 
away all thought of possible jeopardy to later pleasures with Uncle Malcolm 
and Tom. I found myself sinking into, being overwhelmed by, swelling waves 
of the pleasure of the moment. Pleasure I could find no will to resist. That 
time I did not check the inward plunge of Chuck's great cock. When it had 
penetrated me to the deepest point Tom's cock ever had reached, at least 
half of Chuck's great rigid shaft still remained unswallowed. Now not only 
my cunt but my entire lower belly began to feel strangely stretched, 
completely filled. 

That exploring, swollen head of Chuck's cock began touching things deep 
within me I had never felt touched before, then pushed on past to touch 
still other untouched inner organs and surfaces. It seemed to go on for so 
long, I felt surprise, felt almost startled, when finally I felt the outer 
lips of my cunt come to rest against the roots of that great shaft, felt our 
lower bellies pressing firmly together. 

I found myself feeling breathless. A breath-lessness created by pressure 
caused by lack of inner space, rather than by sexual excitement. It was an 
entirely new experience. But again that breath-restricting inner pressure 
seemed to stop just short of that degree of intensity that would have 
created real discomfort. Instead I suddenly found a feeling of strange 
exhilaration flashing through me, as if I'd just successfully performed some 
feat of special accomplishment. 

I relaxed a little, only then realizing how tense I'd been. A heady kind of 
relief washed through me. I'd totally contained that impressive cock of 
Chuck's. I was its master. Now I could subdue it, could transform its 
massive male strength into wilting limpness. I had to suppress a giggle of 
delight. I raised myself, drawing Chuck's great shaft outward slowly. I 
tried to give the head of it a loving twinge with my inner muscles, which 
Tom had said felt so delicious to him. But everything inside me was so 
totally stretched my muscles seemed to have no snap left with which to give 
abrupt added squeezes like they'd been able to deliver to the head of Tom's 
penis. Being able to do that to Tom had given me delicious sensations, too, 
which I discovered were not possible for me to experience with this 
monstrous cock of Chuck's inside me. Its great size seemed to create some 
definite limitations on the quality of pleasure it could create. I realized 
there were definite ways in which a smaller cock felt much better, that 
there seemed to be a far greater variety of delicious sensations a smaller 
cock could create within me. The most distinctive sensation Chuck's great 
rod seemed able to deliver was that feeling of being filled to total 
capacity, which felt good in its way but lacked any quality of tantalizing 
delicacy and variety. Its size created definite limitations. 

I eased Chuck's big cock almost all the way out of me, then sent it sliding 
back in to its hilt about half a dozen times, moving a little less gingerly 
all the time. Then I glanced around, again remembering Uncle Malcolm. I 
found him sitting on his heels, patiently waiting, watching us. I flashed 
him a quick grin, exclaiming, "How about that?... I made it! I've taken 
everything this Chuck character has and made it vanish. Talk about working 
magic! Making anything the size of his cock vanish is quite a trick." 

Uncle Malcolm chuckled, murmuring, "Yes, the female pussy is marvelously 
versatile. Miraculously adaptable. Most women never realize what a unique 
treasure they own." 

"I'm learning!" I declared emphatically. Then I suggested, "Don't you think 
it's about time we got you into this act?" 

He chuckled again. "Do you feel like you have any room left for anything 
else inside you?" 

"Let's find out," I invited. "Until I tried it, I didn't think I had enough 
room in there for what's in there right now. So I'll gamble on having room 
left for more. Come on." 

Uncle Malcolm started to move over into position behind me, then paused 
abruptly, frowning as he said, "I forgot we'd be needing something for 
lubrication." 

"No sweat," I told him. "I've got a whole honey pot full of the slipperiest 
lubricant known to man." I raised myself away from Chuck, letting his big 
cock slip out of my cunt. It slapped down against his belly wetly. He kept 
right on gobbling away at my tits as if he didn't notice. 

I wiggled my ass at Uncle Malcolm, inviting, "Come on in; the lubrication's 
fine." 

He straddled Chuck's legs and moved in close behind me. His hands closed 
upon my hips, then his rigid cock went sliding into my cunt, dog-fashion. I 
was amazed the way the muscles of my cunt were able to close down around his 
hardness, gripping it lovingly, lusciously, fitting my cunt to him 
perfectly, like a tailor made glove. After the stretching they'd just taken 
from Chuck's cock, such instant adaptability seemed impossible. But I was 
feeling it happen. 

Uncle Malcolm stroked in and out of me only about three times, then started 
to withdraw. I clamped down hard around his cock with my cunt muscles, 
trying to trap it before it slipped clear out. But just in case that failed, 
I made a grab with one hand and caught him by one cheek of his ass, stopping 
its retreat. I said, "Don't stop so soon! You're making it feel delicious, 
after the terrific stretching I've just been getting. Go on making it feel 
good for a little while. Please?" 

On the floor under me, Chuck abruptly pulled his greedy mouth away from my 
tits, exclaiming, "I heard that! If you want to call this party off--" 

"Shut up!" I cut in with pretended anger. "Get back to the job." I moved my 
shoulders, making my tits swing back and forth across his mouth, and added, 
"Just stop eavesdropping on other people's private conversations and you 
won't be getting your feelings hurt unnecessarily." 

"Aye, aye, Captain Bligh!" Chuck exclaimed with a grin, then went back to 
gobbling at my tits. His greedy mouth on my burning tits and Uncle Malcolm's 
delicious hardness in my tingling cunt felt heavenly. 

As Uncle Malcolm shoved his cock to me, I wiggled my ass against him to tell 
him how good it was feeling. I glanced back at him again and murmured, "I'm 
still looking forward to spending a long time alone with you sometime. 
Lordy, but you make it feel great!" 

The reaction that got made me feel proud of myself for having said it; Uncle 
Malcolm couldn't possibly have looked happier if he'd just been presented an 
Oscar. He murmured, "I'm looking forward to that too, you sweet thing. But 
right now I think maybe--" I interrupted, declaring, "Right now I'll put old 
horse-cock back in the playhouse and you dig around in my backyard for me. 
Okay?" 

I felt Uncle Malcolm's good hardness slip out of me. I found Chuck's huge 
cock with one hand, aimed it, then felt everything in my cunt again starting 
to be stretched almost painfully as the great head of it went back into me. 
Once it was all the way inside me again, I made two or three more very short 
strokes to get it settled into the most comfortable position possible. Then 
I glanced back at Uncle Malcolm, inviting, "Ready." 

Uncle Malcolm's grip on my hips tightened. I felt the head of his cock begin 
pressing into my asshole. I tried to relax the muscles the way I'd learned 
to do with Tom. I felt his hardness starting into me. My ass felt far 
tighter than I remembered it having felt, even the very first time Tom 
shoved his cock into me there. The borderline between pain and pleasure 
almost got crossed. I felt certain something was going to tear, every tissue 
throught my whole ass seemed to be stretched too tautly. I was about to 
yell, certain it had to start really hurting, like the very next instant. 

But before I got the yell started, I realized suddenly that Uncle Malcolm 
was all the way in me. I still hadn't been stretched quite far enough to 
create actual pain. But my whole ass was filled with a feeling of intense 
pressure. It seemed impossible that anything could ever start feeling good 
to me in this kind of situation. I felt certain I'd bargained for more male 
cock than I could pleasurably handle. Just getting Chuck's whopper into my 
cunt had seemed like a real accomplishment. I told myself I should have 
stopped while I'd been ahead. Now I felt certain I was going to have to ask 
for mercy, going to have to ask to be let out of the bargain I'd made. I was 
ready to yell "Uncle!" but just before I did Uncle Malcolm began stroking 
his cock gently in and out of my taut asshole. I hung on, hating to 
disappoint him. 

I was surprised to feel the sensation of unbearable pressure begin to ease. 
It felt like there was only a paper-thin tissue between Uncle Malcolm's 
thrusting cock and Chuck's huge hardness buried in my stretched cunt. But 
that thin tissue seemed to be filled with sources of erotic sensation being 
stimulated fantastically by the caressing strokes of Uncle Malcolm's cock. 

I found myself able to start forgetting the feeling of strained tissues and 
pressure; I began to relax more than I'd been able to, beginning to enjoy 
the rising tide of sensation. Suddenly I realized the pressure from being so 
filled to capacity with hard male cocks seemed to be strangely intensifying 
the sensations within me. I seemed to be feeling them more sharply. 

I found myself responding without thinking, beginning to raise and lower 
myself in short movements that created short thrusts of Chuck's big cock 
deep within me. The increased friction of slight movement against both sides 
of the tissue separating his cock from Uncle Malcolm's created a startling 
magnification of sensation. I gasped with the sudden pleasure of it. I grew 
braver, beginning to increase my movements and thus make the strokes of 
Chuck's cock in and out of my cunt longer. Meanwhile, Uncle Malcolm was 
beginning to shove his cock to my asshole a little less cautiously. That 
also seemed to multiply the sensation being created within my cock-filled 
belly. 

Slowly my sense of a need for caution faded as sensation swelled higher 
within me. Finally I was able to just close my eyes and give myself over to 
the delicious storm of sensation that had started raging within me. I was 
ready to abandon myself to the total enjoyment of it. At that very instant 
of abandonment, however, I became abruptly aware of a gripping hand shaking 
one shoulder. I frowned irritably at this uninvited interruption as I opened 
my eyes and glanced up at the owner of that hand. I was ready to snap at 
whoever it was. Then I saw our handsome and famous host standing there 
smiling down at me. Almost the same instant I recognized his face, I 
realized that his beautiful cock was no longer hanging nonchalantly limp. 

"You give a remarkable performance, little dreamboat," he declared, sounding 
excited. "This is about the best two-man show I've ever witnessed. Would you 
care to make it into a super-spectacular three-man extravaganza?" He made a 
slight movement with his hips, bringing his rigid cock toward my mouth 
suggestively, then waited hopefully. I appreciated his consideration in not 
trying to demand anything or worse yet to physically force his cock upon me. 
Right then I couldn't have done much to defend myself, my ass anchored to 
two other hard cocks the way it was. 

I shrugged my shoulders and told him, "I've never been involved in a two-way 
screwing before, much less three. So I can't guarantee satisfaction, but I'm 
willing to try, if you find the idea appealing." 

"Do I ever find it appealing!" he exclaimed as he moved quickly to position 
himself directly in front of me, presenting my mouth with the easiest access 
possible to his cock. I raised one of my hands from the floor beside Chuck's 
head. I gripped our host's eager cock. It was a real beauty, as I've said 
before, about halfway between Uncle Malcolm's and Chuck's in size. The 
thought flashed through that I was going to have as big a variety of 
different-sized cocks in me as an assorted case of dildos usually holds. I 
began getting it lubricated with a dripping coat of saliva, licking from the 
base of his cock to its tip time after time. I had him moaning before I 
finished that. 

Meanwhile I was continuing the action with my ass, stroking Chuck's huge 
cock in and out of my straining cunt while Uncle Malcolm kept sliding his 
stiff cock in and out of my asshole. It was almost like a juggling act, 
trying to keep the pressure of sensation building in all three of them at 
the same time. I licked my lips, then slipped our handsome host's cock 
through them and into my mouth. I welcomed it with a silken swirl, my tongue 
licking at the sensitive head of it with a circular motion. His legs began 
trembling almost immediately. I knew within just moments that he would come. 

I pressed my mouth toward his lower belly, beginning a rapid sucking action 
with my lips and cheeks. His hard cock slipped deeper and still deeper into 
my mouth until my lips were pressed firmly against the mat of curly black 
hair that covered the roots of his rigid cock. Then I gave the head of his 
cock, now well down in my throat, a squeezing caress, suddenly con- tracting 
the throat muscles around it. I heard the owner of that cock gasp, sharply 
as if in surprise. I wondered if I possibly could have shown this man, as 
widely experienced as a lover as he had to be, a new trick. The possibility 
pleased me. I gave him another harder squeeze and another and another, 
beginning a steady milking action on that sensitive head of his beautiful 
cock. I had gasps wheezing in and out of him steadily and noisily. He would 
give up his whole charge to me any moment now. 

I remembered my other trick, realizing I had a free hand now. I quickly 
stuck the forefinger into my mouth beside the hard shaft of his cock, 
coating it with saliva for lubrication. Then I reached between his legs and 
felt my way under his balls and on until I found his asshole. I started my 
finger into him; that brought a startled gasp out of him, then almost 
instantly the muscles around his asshole relaxed as if to welcome my 
entering finger. He had experienced that wrinkle before, obviously, so he 
must not have been too surprised when I used it on him. As my finger thrust 
into him, an anguished cry abruptly tore its way out of him; his rigid cock 
began pulsating powerfully, sending jet after jet of his hot come shooting 
down my throat. 

That same instant, Chuck began bucking under me, his hips and back arching 
upward against me off the floor. As his great cock began erupting, it filled 
me so completely its pulsations seemed to be thundering through my whole 
lower belly. 

Then Uncle Malcolm's fingers were clutching at my hips so frantically they 
became almost like claws. I heard a strangled yell come out of him, then 
felt his cock begin pulsating furiously in my asshole's tightness. 

It was as exciting as hell. The orgy going on all around me was frantically 
erotic. Yet the whole wild scene had failed to create the tingling 
excitement that had me coming like a machine gun that first night Tom spent 
in my bed fucking me. Here I had those three Hollywood big names coming deep 
inside me all at the same time, yet of the four of us I alone still wasn't 
coming. That really seemed fantastic. 

Then out of nowhere the thought zipped through of what my old 
shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later daddy would do if he could see me right 
then. I knew he'd never stop at just killing the three with their cocks 
buried in me; he'd have more than likely wound up killing off at least half 
of Hollywood. 

And that's what did it. That brought the feeling I'd been missing, exciting 
all hell right out of me. Don't ask me why, but that vision of my old 
daddy's blazing guns killing people right and left, like something out of an 
old Western movie on the late, late show, seemed like the most erotic 
experience I'd had all that evening. I blew my mind. I screamed. I think 
more than likely I sounded like someone going stark, raving fruitcake as 
that scream came gurgling and gasping out around the pumping cock still 
stuck clear down my throat. All I was really aware of, however, was that I 
was coming. Lordy, Lord, how I was coming and coming and still coming some 
more. 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

Uncle Malcolm's secluded beach house was the perfect place to recover from 
the excesses of an orgy. It seemed so good not to have wall-to-wall people. 
Wall-to-wall fucking. Wall-to-wall cunts and cocks and bare-assed skin. It 
had seemed terribly exciting, once. But as I lay on the warm sand of that 
secluded private beach, recuperating, strange thoughts floated lazily 
through my mind. I had the distinct feeling that I definitely would not dig 
orgies as a regular sexual diet. I found myself wondering if I might be more 
of an old-fashioned girl than I'd realized. The very idea made me chuckle. 

From the sand nearby, where he was sunbathing nude, Uncle Malcolm murmured, 
"Tell me so I can laugh too." 

Beyond him, Laura spoke up, sounding abnormally catty for Laura as she 
suggested, "She's probably gloating over the way she stole the whole scene 
from all those famous movie sex symbols with that three-man show she put on 
last night. A lot of them would've liked to've killed her, the way she had 
all the most attractive men swarming around after that performance. But her 
hard-to-get act after her curtain raiser... that really was the show 
stopper. My sweet little roommate from the country, the country innocent who 
out-vamps the professional vamps!" 

I said sweetly, "And I owe it all to you, the friend who taught me 
everything I know!" 

Laura sat up and stared across at me intently for a moment, then suddenly 
shook her head as she declared, "Will you listen to me, coming on like the 
jealous bitch!" She looked out at the ocean a moment, then glanced back at 
me again to say, "I'm sorry, Trina... I guess what really got the old 
green-eyed monster stirred up in me wasn't the way you had those movie 
heroes drooling over you at all. What really got to me was that I felt our 
dear Uncle Malcolm here has been acting partial to your charms over mine. 
That's been really burning me, regardless of how much I tell myself I 
shouldn't feel that way." 

Uncle Malcolm spoke up quietly. "Then I'm the one who should be apologizing 
for having obviously failed to maintain a proper balance in my attentions. 
You know, that's the problem so few men ever have been wise enough to handle 
that society finally adopted laws that run completely contrary to man's 
inherently polygamous nature. It seems to require the wisdom of a real 
Solomon to enable a man to make two beautiful women... only two, much less 
more than two... feel equally appreciated, equally desirable, equally 
cherished. I'm sorry I haven't proven equal to that--" 

"Words, words!" Laura interrupted, chuckling. "Let's see some action suited 
to those fine words, sweet Uncle. I'll show you how very understanding and 
forgiving I can be when I see a genuine effort to change your actions. You 
know, actions speak so much louder than words." 

I said, "Hold onto your G-string folks! She's about to get profound again." 

"Look who's talking!" Laura exclaimed. "She stands right in the middle of a 
sex orgy involving some of Hollywood's most beautiful people, and what does 
she babble about? Her philosophy of life." 

"Which is a philosophy of overflowing abundance," I reminded instantly. "And 
that orgy was about the most vivid picture of abundance I'd ever seen. 
Abundance freely shared with everyone by everyone, abundance available to 
all and enjoyed by all." 

"You just haven't been listening, little friend," Laura said sharply. "I've 
been protesting my failure to get my fair share of that alleged abundance." 

"I didn't hear you making any protesting noises when a certain dreamy young 
TV actor joined us," I countered. "I didn't hear you protesting that he 
should give me equal attention, equal time, equal anything. You took the 
abundance he offered and--" Laura interrupted, exclaiming with a gusty sigh, 
"Yeah, he was really something! I'll still be having wet dreams about little 
old me making it to outer space on his sweet rocket when I'm old and gray. 
He was really something!" 

"So who's protesting she didn't get her fair share of what?" I reminded. 

Laura shrugged and turned coy, lowering her eyes as she murmured, "Yeah, but 
he isn't here, now. I'll still bet Uncle Malcolm is much greater. I'll bet 
there's no comparison, but I don't know that from personal experience... 
like you do. Of us two, you're the only one our sweet uncle ever has really 
made a trip to the stars with." 

"Maybe that's been your fault," I suggested. "Was he supposed to chase after 
you when you went off to screw your TV hero? You can't really claim you were 
available but he showed a preference for me. Now can you?" 

"Why rake over past history?" Laura demanded, taking a superior tone. "I am 
available now. That's all that's really important. Don't you agree, sweet 
Uncle?" 

"Marvelous example of female logic!" Uncle Malcolm chuckled. "I predict 
you'll go far, my dear Laura. With your beauty and natural charms... such a 
great body and such a devious feminine mind, there's no limit on where you 
can go, on what you can ask life for and receive." 

Then he glanced at me, murmuring, "Trina, darling, would you please excuse 
me for an hour or so? I've been neglecting my sweet niece, Laura, and I must 
do something to make it all up to her. You do understand?" 

"Be my guest," I said sweetly. "I'll even be glad to help if there's 
anything at all--" 

"Of course there's something you can do to help!" Laura cut in sharply. 
"Don't try to go running off and leave me to try to do something to this 
dreamy man all on my own that he'll always remember. You can help me like I 
helped that very first afternoon when he fucked Marie in the asshole. You 
bet you can help! I want Uncle Malcolm's very first time in me to be really 
extra special, so as my best friend you've got to help me do it!" 

All this talk hadn't just been talk, talk, talk. It had been having an 
erotic effect; Uncle Malcolm's cock had changed from a state of limp 
disinterest to a half-mast state of rising excitement. And that excitement 
kept right on rising moment by moment, making his cock swell and lengthen 
toward full erection. For my part, my own box had started feeling like 
something inside it had started building up a fresh new fire. Talk, the 
right kind of talk, can be important as hell in beginning to build a new 
head of steam of erotic sensations. After all, the most important human sex 
organ always has been the human mind and the mental pictures that mind 
creates. 

Yeah, that mind of ours actually is our whole sexual bag. There really 
aren't too many different things different people can do physically in 
seeking sexual satisfaction. The real sexual dif- ferences from one 
individual to another are almost all in the mind. One mind has been 
brainwashed to think all sex is dirty, something to be secretive about, to 
feel ashamed of and guilty about, so to that poor blind, brainwashed mental 
cripple all sex is dirty, something he or she always feels ashamed of and 
guilty about. Another individual can do the exact same sexual things 
physically, but that one's mind has been taught that the Creator of all 
life, including sex, is all good and all that He has created is good, 
therefore sex is good and natural and wholesome. Was intended to create a 
sense of vitality and physical well-being, of joy and happiness, when 
properly expressed in a physical union for mutual pleasure between 
consenting adults. Therefore to that individual sex always seems good and 
brings a sense of fulfillment and vitality and joy in being alive. The only 
difference between feelings of guilt about sex and feelings of joy in being 
alive is that difference in attitudes about sex in two different minds. 

The mind being so vitally important to good sex for humans, the right kind 
of talk to stimulate that mind is equally important at the right times. Part 
of such talk is the so-called sweet nothings women have always found so 
necessary to create a mood of sexual responsiveness in them. Those sweet 
nothings create mental pictures that are erotic as all hell; not to men, but 
to women. 

So the talk Laura and I had been doing very likely would have sounded like a 
mild cat fight, a rather light-hearted argument, to someone who didn't 
understand human sexuality. Actually it had been recalling mental pictures 
to all three of us that had been erotic as hell to each of us. We'd been 
using the talk to stir each other up, to rekindle our fires of sexual desire 
to the point where we'd feel receptive to a new campaign of physical 
caresses, as well as sufficiently stimulated to launch our own. Of course a 
time always comes when all further talk must be kept to a very minimum. At 
that point, body language takes over most of the flow of communications. We 
had about reached that point. 

Uncle Malcolm turned on his side to face Laura as she too turned herself on 
her side to meet him. Gently he cupped a hand around her upper breast, then 
bent his head until he brought his mouth to the nipple. I heard a low moan 
of pleasure come out of Laura as he sucked that excited nipple into his 
mouth to begin licking and sucking at it. 

But I had work to do elsewhere. I turned myself upon the beach blanket, 
putting my feet toward their heads and my face at Uncle Malcolm's ass. I 
began kissing and licking at the cheeks of it. He raised his upper leg, 
spreading it away from the other, inviting me to caress more private areas. 

Without hesitation I took a long, wet lick up through the crack of his ass. 
As the tip of my tongue crossed his asshole, I saw his stiff cock jerk, then 
swell and become larger and harder. I licked on up to his balls, gently 
sucking them into my mouth, caressing them with careful strokes of my 
tongue. Little humping movements of his hips let me know he appreciated that 
special attention. 

Just then Laura raised her upper leg and threw it over Uncle Malcolm's, 
opening her cunt wide in welcome to his cock. The curly muff of her cunt 
hair glistened with jewellike drops of the love sweat drooling out of her 
excited cunt. I could feel heat radiating from her feverish hot box against 
my face as Uncle Malcolm moved closer, taking me with him. 

The swollen head of his cock touched the outer lips of Laura's cunt lighty. 
He made several short thrusts, checking each one before the head of his cock 
disappeared inside Laura's hungry cunt. She began thrusting against him in 
answer. I could tell she was dying to have him sock it to her, to have him 
sink his anchor to its hairy hilt. But he was taking it easy, not rushing 
her, as a wise lover does. 

I knew how Laura felt, though. I knew she was achingly ready, even if he 
wasn't yet sure. I let his balls slip out of my mouth just as he started 
another inward stroke. I drew back a little, then sent the tip of my tongue 
straight at his asshole. The touch of it there made him jerk away 
involuntarily in surprise, sending his stiff cock lunging on into Laura's 
cunt to its roots. A wavering groan of satisfaction came out of her. I 
changed position a little to give Uncle Malcolm more freedom of movement 
now. As he began humping his cock in and out of Laura's cunt full stroke, I 
held my tongue straight out so the crack of his ass moved back and forth on 
it as he fucked her, giving him an added charge of sensation with each 
stroke. 

Within moments both of them were moaning and groaning like they were 
suffering intensifying torture. Then I saw Laura's cunt begin pulsating 
around his cock as it went in and out of her and knew she was coming before 
her scream told me. I really had a grandstand view. Like hell! I had 
something far better, like a TV close-up view. I could clearly see her cunt 
stop its frantic pulsations for a second, then begin all over again as she 
blasted off into a fresh orgasm. It was about as erotic as anything I'd ever 
experienced. My own cunt got so excited it felt like the love honey was 
gushing out of it. Without even a conscious thought about what I was doing, 
I dropped my hand down to my ravenous cunt and began caressing my clitoris. 

Lord, how thankful I was that I was a woman and didn't have to worry about 
"saving" my sexual charges, about trying to get the most mileage possible 
out of each one, like a man does if he's any kind of a lover. I could spend 
sexual energy as freely as I was offered opportunities, yet always have more 
at a moment's notice if I found myself presented with a new opportunity. 
Being a woman relieved me of all need to conserve my orgasms because I 
always had a new one ready and waiting. So masturbation was not a waste but 
an added bonus. 

I closed my eyes as I caressed my clitoris. In a flash I was back at the 
orgy of the night before. My finger became a rigid cock. One second it 
belonged to our famous host. The next instant it hung from the belly of 
Laura's TV idol. An instant later it belonged to another handsome actor. It 
was fantastic. My head was swarming with such a swirl of erotic images I 
began blowing my mind. I forgot all about continuing to tease Uncle Malcolm. 
Even the vibrating dildos had never made me come the way I was coming all by 
myself there on that beach blanket, while Uncle Malcolm and Laura humped 
each other frantically and yelled and moaned and humped some more, merely 
inches away behind me. Those phantom lovers of mine were treating me to the 
most royal fucking any woman ever had. 

When I finally finished, I came back from my trip to outer space, actually 
to inner space, and found Uncle Malcolm and Laura laying still coupled 
together as if forzen, watching me in amazement. When she saw I was back, 
Laura demanded almost angrily, "What in hell happened to you? We thought you 
were having some kind of sexual fit. Maybe even an epileptic seizure." 

"If epileptic seizures were anything like what I just had," I told her, 
"everyone would be trying to find a way to get epilepsy, instead of a way to 
cure it. I was only having an adventure with a sexual phantom." 

"Good Lord, what's his name?" Laura began. I want---" I cut her off, 
warning, "Don't start that again! You were wanting Uncle Malcolm and now 
you've got him, so enjoy him. Keep your atten- tion on him and on all he's 
giving you to be thankful for." 

I got up and started walking toward the gentle surf. As I went, I called 
back to them, "I'll take a swim so I'm not around to distract you. I'll take 
my sexy phantoms with me." 

As I walked on toward the water, my cunt was still tingling with the 
delights I'd just experienced. It still seemed impossible that such a 
hurricane of sensation could have all been in my head. But of course that's 
actually where such storms of passion always come from, even when you've had 
a partner to help start them raging. All in your head. All in inner space. 
What a trip! 

I waded into the surf. I chuckled abruptly, wondering if that whole ocean 
held enough water to cool my burning cunt? The fire all those phantom cocks 
had set roaring within me gave promise of proving to be a pretty steady and 
enduring blaze. If hot pants were the new fashion headliners, I had a hunch 
I was going to wear the style in a way more women ought to. I'd found what 
it took to keep hot pants really hot. I knew the answer to my question; even 
that big ocean could never cool it. Because I'd unleashed the unquenchable 
fire of life within me. I'd become a completely liberated, an 
uncompromisingly sensuous woman. A mere ocean was no match for my fires. I'd 
been created to bring heat to the loins of ten thousand men. I felt suddenly 
supremely confident that I could fulfill my mission. 

I waded on into the deeper water. An incoming wave rushed at me, reaching 
hungrily, caressingly, to touch and break around the firmness of my naked 
body. I sensed a spirit of maleness in those rushing waters. They closed, 
like a caressing, possessive hand, over my feverish cunt, then reached 
within it. I was lifted upon that great heaving male belly. It was filled 
with surging, flowing life and filled me with sensations of tingling 
awareness of the life that filled and surged and burned relentlessly within 
me. Life that appeared as fragile as mortality, yet had endured many million 
years as that ocean. Its immortality and mystery was wholly contained in a 
rain drop. My immortality and mystery was also wholly contained in a single 
drop. 

I shook myself from his spell abruptly, struck by the realization that this 
ocean lover could turn treacherous if a girl didn't watch him. I turned 
myself on his broad, heaving belly, and began swimming back. Uncle Malcolm 
and Laura had finished their struggle upon the sand. They stood together, 
waving for me to come back and join them. 


THE END
