BDB-1031  Athletic Support
[aka 'The Athletic Coach']
(Charles Durand)


CHAPTER ONE 

Sherry's large brown eyes widened. The cedar fence loomed up high over her 
head. It seemed much taller than seven feet. Climbing it was going to be 
dangerous. 

Sweat poured down the thirteen year old's sunburned cheeks. She was hot from 
pedaling her bicycle from school and a thin layer of sweat covered the flat 
skin of her belly, wetting the cotton panties clinging to her hairless 
crotch. 

Sherry didn't have a choice. She needed her baseball uniform for little 
league practice. And the uniform was hanging on a clothes line in the 
backyard. Behind the cedar fence. 

Her thin nose flared at the hot afternoon wind. If her mommy had washed 
Sherry's uniform instead of giving it to Mrs. Anson, the next door neighbor, 
then this wouldn't have happened. But her mommy was too poor to own a 
washing machine. And there never seemed time to go to the laundromat. 

So Mrs. Anson had washed her baseball jersey and pants. And now it was 
locked behind the wood fence and it was up to Sherry to go get them. 

Damn! she thought grabbing the cross railing and pulling her skinny torso up 
so she could grab the top of the fence. A wind gust swirled catching the 
girl's skirt, exposing her white panties. 

Why wasn't Mrs. Anson home? Sherry had tried the front door and bagned the 
door knocker until her fingers ached. There were two cars in the driveway. 
Somebody had to be home. 

Maybe she went to the store, Sherry thought. Wherever Mrs. Anson was, Sherry 
didn't have time to wait for her return. So with the gates locked, she had 
no choice but to climb over the fence, hastily change into her uniform and 
go off to practice. 

Standing now on the top railing, Sherry looked down at the green carpet of 
grass below. She felt a chill along her spine. It looked a very long way 
down. 

Sherry tittered then crouching down, she touched the fence top with her 
hands and, closing her eyes, leaped forward. 

"Ohhhh!! ! " she gasped. Her tucked body made a gentle parabola in the air 
below, landing with a thud on the soft lawn. She fell heavily on her 
shoulders and rolled forward into a somersault. Her white dress made a 
ripping sound as she rolled forward, her head spinning like a top. She lay 
on her back gasping for breath. It was embarrassing. She turned to stare at 
the fence and then at the ground. She was lucky only the wind was knocked 
out of her. She looked down at herself and gasped. The white cotton dress 
her mother had sewn for her was nearly ripped in two! Dirt stains and long 
green splotches soiled the front. The dress was destroyed! 

Sherry's ass was in a sling if her mother found out. Her mother had spent 
many long hours putting it together. Climbing to her feet, Sherry discovered 
the dress was not the only garment ripped from the long fall. As she walked, 
a blast of warm air thrilled her buttocks. 

Goosebumps sprung up along the inside of her thighs and slowly spread 
upwards along her flat tummy and the tender slit parting her cunt lips. 
Placing her finger between her legs, Sherry felt the tattered material of 
her underpants. She groaned and was almost afraid to look down. But she did 
and the damage was worse than she imagined. Whatever had ripped her dress 
had caught her panties. A hot wind swirled under her dress and through her 
cotton briefs warming the bare flesh below. 

She stood up and looked at the fence. A fragment of cloth from her dress 
waved in the wind like a miniature flag. "A nail," whispered Sherry. She had 
been very lucky after all. A little bit lower and that nail could have 
ripped her open, not just the dress. 

Sherry was embarrassed. She was nearly striped of her clothes from the freak 
accident. Luckily, no one was home at the Anson house because she didn't 
want Mrs. Anson to see her running around with her clothes nearly ripped 
off. 

Her panties slipped down off her hips and before Sherry could do anything 
they were drooping around her ankles. 

Sherry knew she would have to change into her uniform at the Anson house. 
There was no time to go home. And besides, she couldn't go out on a public 
street with her dress ripped and her underwear falling off her rump. Even if 
she did live next door. 

Sherry picked up her underwear in one hand and crept around the back of the 
house to the clothes line where her baseball uniform was. 

And it might have stopped there if the clothes line had not been position 
directly outside Mrs. Anson's bedroom window. 

Because Mrs. Anson, a comely brunette with the long, muscular legs of a 
dancer and the rounded hips and pinched waist of a model, was not alone. 

Gordon Wilson was lying on top of her, his hands massaging her responsive 
breasts that were braless under her checkered cowgirl shirt. 

"Aahhhh," she gasped. Her nipples jutted beautifully through the soft 
fabric. She squirmed underneath his hips, thrusting soft hillocks of 
inviting pleasure up towards his mouth. Wilson had to smile. 

He knew a good piece of ass. And he spotted Margaret for the lusty 
adulterous housewife which she was. Wilson had gone to the house to get 
insurance release forms for Trixie, the woman's 12 year old daughter that 
played little league baseball. 

Gordon unbutton her blouse with his teeth and remembered how he had nearly 
flipped when his eyes spotted through beautiful tits for the first time. 
They strained against her blouse, the nipples eager, waiting. He had mumbled 
a few words and when their eyes met in a hypnotic trance, Gordon said he 
would be back later. 

Well, now he was back. And freeing her blouse so he could lick and suck her 
rigid nipples he thought to himself that luck was riding with him. 

"Hmmmmm," Margaret Anson moaned. She wiggled her hips against his crotch. 
Even through her slacks, he could feel the warm, passionate heat of her 
cunt. With mounting excitement, his hands strayed from her tits and worked 
down to the slope of her buttocks. He couldn't resist touching her firm soft 
ass cheeks. Her body was a dream-a wet dream come true! In a few seconds his 
hands would be coming through those soft cheeks and through her dark crease 
until he was stroking her hot, smelly box. 

He stared at Margaret Anson's face now composed and oddly child-like. He 
congradulated himself. If the rest of her body was as beautiful as her 
satiny tits then he was in for some good, hard fucking. Quickly his fingers 
found the snaps of her slacks. She did not resist as he pulled her pants 
away and then unrolled the sheer panties that clung to her crotch. 

"You're beautiful," he admired. He was going to be late again for little 
league practice. The girls would complain to their parents about the coach 
always arriving late. But he didn't care. Fucking Margaret Anson's was worth 
a few complaints. Hell, it was worth losing his job over! 

It was embarrassing. At least for Sherry. She reached up for her uniform and 
a blast of wind blew her dress over her head exposing her soft, lovely rump. 

Feeling the warm air run up her thighs and along her small twat and nicely 
curved buttocks all the way to the two cupcake mounds on her chest was 
exciting. She was nervous; maybe the tension had something to do with the 
way she felt. Her skin was sensitive to the slightest stimulation. A puff of 
air could send goose bumps crawling across her breasts. The gentlest wind 
hardened her nipples. Standing at the clothes line, legs spread, her tiny 
rump naked to the sun's warmth, Sherry had the urge to scratch her cunt. She 
knew it was wrong. Even in her own bathroom she felt guilty playing with her 
twat. As if her little virgin hole was sacred icon, not meant to be touched 
even by her! 

Yet the surroundings were so strange and her cunt itched so much! She had 
the same sensation riding her bicycle sometimes. She had wanted to drag her 
crotch back and forth against the saddle horn. And then one day she did, 
ramming the narrow neck of the saddle through the warm, wet little lips. How 
she had shivered! 

She pulled the uniform over her shoulders. In the same motion, she squatted 
down and slid a finger upwards. The twin halves of her sweltering cunt 
spread apart and in went her finger. It glided up her hole now all nice and 
wet. She squatted lower so her thighs muscles were tense and the twin 
spheres of her rump were drawn apart. 

"Ohhhhh!" she gasped. 

Her finger was a magic wand working away in her hole. It was wrong to fuck 
herself. The thought of Mrs. Anson suddenly walking out into the backyard 
and finding her with her finger wiggling inside her hot twat made Sherry 
shudder. 

She would die of embarrassment. And yet she couldn't stop, not now anyway 
because her channel hugged her finger like a warm glove and she was getting 
hotter and hotter. Swaying her hips, Sherry began to hunch. Her ripped skirt 
flipped frantically up at each forward movement. It was awkward at first, 
but Sherry quickly got the rhythm. The finger seemed to grow longer. It was 
thick around, or so it seemed as a garden hose. And as it got bigger, her 
cunt got hotter. Much hotter. She was bouncing her buttocks against her 
heels and her finger grew long and hard inside her twat like a cucumber 
suddenly sprouting in the late Spring. 

"Ohhhhh!" she moaned. Sherry couldn't take much more of this excitement. No, 
she certainly couldn't. 

"What was that?" said Gordon. He twisted in the bed, his muscles tense, 
ready. The last thing he needed was to have Mrs. Anson's husband to come 
storming through the bedroom door. 

"Who cares?" Margaret Anson murmured. 

She reached around Gordon neck and gently pulled his face down to her 
breast. His trim athletic body pressed against her. She averted her face and 
closed her eyes, feeling his wet lips surround her taunt nipples and gently 
suck. She wiggled some more against his thighs. The hard, tense muscles of 
his sweltering body pinioned her to the bed. Lying naked under the crisp 
linen sheets with Gordon Wilson between her thighs was sensational. From the 
first moment she laid eyes on him, Margaret Anson knew she had to have him. 
He lowered his hips down on the soft pelt of hair sprouting from her crotch. 
She groaned again, lolling her head back and forth while his lips zinged 
pleasure through her nipples. His cock felt big as an elephant's trunk 
against her thigh. Margaret wanted him to move on her cunt and stick that 
huge, throbbing club up her love channel. She was all hot and moist; juice 
dribbled from her slit and filled the air with a musky fragrance. 

Even the gentle breeze blowing through the open window could not cool the 
torrid passions stirred up inside her womb. She had to have him. And 
twisting in his arms, she found his ear lobe with her teeth and tenderly 
nibbled. 

"Hurrry!" she moaned, licking the inside of his ear. "Hurrrry!" 

Gordon pulled his lips away and waited. His heart pounded like a hammer. 
This girl was gorgeous. Why any man would let this dish slip through his 
fingers was beyond his understanding. He brought his hand down her ribs and 
along the pinched curve of her waist. Her hips were all hot and steamy 
underneath him and he was so goddman excited to fuck Margaret's sweltering 
cunt that he damn near shot his load against her leg. 

His hand dropped at her waist and scooped up buttock's cheeks. He felt the 
heat of her rump against his hands. Man, she was going to be a fantastic 
fuck no matter where he thrust his cock. 

He looked up at her face. Margaret's eyes were snapped shut, her rich full 
lips drawn tight. She was moaning to herself as his hand drew up her hips. 
His hard cock flickered against the taunt muscles of her thigh. Squeezing 
her rump, he pushed his cock through her ravine and poked her asshole. 

"Aaaahhhhh!" she gasped. 

Maybe she digs it there, he thought. Definitely, her asshole would be virgin 
tight. And despite Margaret's considerable strength, there was no way she 
could stop him from plugging her butt, if indeed he so wanted. The way his 
cock flickered, her asshole would be nice. Especially those round firm rump 
cheeks hunching back against his cock shaft. 

Reluctantly, he pulled from her butt and positioned his dong against her 
juicy cunt. There was always time for tricks. And besides his balls were so 
heavy and full with jizz that he could barely move. 

Margaret Anson was beside herself. Her body had been striped and caressed 
and fingered and licked and played with until her body was incapable of 
responding. She opened her eyes and saw Gordon rise up between her legs like 
a wild animal guarding his injured prey. His cock stood straight out in 
front like a telephone pole. His member was so big it took Margaret's breath 
away. Tremulously, she raised a hand up to the hard, rigid pole and clasped 
it. The wrinkled foreskin moved in her hand. Gordon was staring 
incredulously, but he made no move to stop Margaret as she slid her soft 
palm up and down his fuck pipe. 

"Goooood!! ! " Gordon exclaimed. 

Margaret Anson was shaking all over as she slowly jerked him off and her 
trembling fear surprised Gordon. Her blue eyes had zeroed in on the swollen 
scrotum dangling from the forest of pubic hair. She acted like a virgin 
seeing her first cock. She seemed drawn and repelled by his massive, 
protruding member. Gordon smiled to himself. She was disintegrating right 
before his eyes. Margaret's mouth hung open and Gordon could hear her 
panting. 

I don't know what's got into this bitch, he thought, rising up to his knees. 
But I'm going to teach this broad a thing or two about fucking. 

"Kneel," he commanded. "Hurry up and kneel down on the mattress." 

Margaret scurried into position, her hand still holding onto his penis. Her 
warm palm felt like a mitten. She was real good at jerking off cock. He 
hated to pull her hand away except that her mouth looked so warm and 
inviting, he couldn't resist. 

"Take me in your mouth," he croaked. 

Margaret froze. Her flesh quivered as the terrible tingling shot through her 
thighs and up through her cunt. She was scared. Scared shitless and when he 
pulled her face downward, she resisted. Margaret did until he jerked his 
cock up towards her wet lips and forced himself down her throat. 

"Gooood!" he laughed. 

His penis climbed down her throat, the knotty cap at the tip of his prick 
burrowing a path along her raspy tongue. Hesistation was replaced by a 
inquenchable lust for his cock. She bowed before his rigid prick her mouth 
sucking and cleaning his sex like a vacuum cleaner. 

A tingle started forming in his scrotum, a tingle that turned into an ache. 
He felt so overwhelmed that he wanted to come right then. But he held back. 

The submissive body wedged between his legs and filled his mind with 
devilish thoughts. He was satisfied with Margaret. She could go on cleaning 
his cock until the stabbing pleasure of her tongue became too great and 
would trip the come load that filled his fuck gun. 

But Gordon couldn't help remember that wonderful, fetid cunt. It was a rare 
perfect gem nestled in the puffed thatch of pubic hair. He just had to fuck 
her cunt. Just had to! 

Margaret's back was curved down at his cock like an inverted salad bowl. Her 
rump rested on her heels while her face disappeared into his crotch. He 
gripped her ears like the handles of a water jug and pulled his cock from 
her mouth with a popping noise. 

Margaret had to know what came next, but she did not move as he circled in 
back. Gently, he lifted the cheeks of her buttocks up until her thighs 
opened and the tufted cunt jewel stared sightlessly back at him. Her hole 
glistened from the cunt juice oozing from her slit. 

He crawled between her legs and raised his aching cock up to her furry hole. 
He couldn't believe how nice and soft her cunt was. Even bent over dog 
style, her twat was soft as butter. Her thighs continued trembling, but that 
was only natural. He slipped a few inches into her hole, then retreated 
before going in again. 

"How's that?" he asked stupidly. 

Below him, heaving and gasping, Margaret grunted her approval. Her buttocks 
wagged slightly taking in a few inches of prick meat. Her channel became 
tighter as his prick sank in deeper. 

Margaret squirmed and murmured, but that didn't stop Gordon. He clasped her 
tightly at the hip and rocked her haunches against his crotch. 

"Hmmmmmm!" Margaret groaned. Margaret was hunching and twisting her hips. 
She fucked with every ounce of her quivering flesh and she seemed to grow 
hotter and stronger with every stroke. 

Through the split crack in her rump, Gordon watched his cock disappearing 
into her fetid fuck hole. The satiny feel of Margaret flesh hugged his 
shaft. He was all drippy wet from the love juice that poured from her hole. 

Quickly he turned his eyes away from her crack. If he watched the swelled 
loaves of her butt pumping up and down a second longer, he'd say to hell 
with waiting and shoot his wad straight down the flared neck of her cunt. 
And he didn't want to do that. Not yet anyway. 

So while the grunting sounds coming from Margaret's throat mixed with the 
squeaking of bed springs and the slapping of flesh against flesh, Gordon 
looked out the bedroom window into the backyard. 

That's when he saw Sherry Jackson 

She was standing by the clothes line. It took him a second to realize that 
she didn't have any panties on. He watched, his eyes blinking several times 
and still he couldn't believe it. 

"This isn't happening," he said to himself. And yet it was happening. His 
hands squeezed down on Margaret's thighs and pulled her cunt channel back 
against his dick with such force that she screamed. 

"Ohhhhhh!" Margaret yelled. His cock stroked her loins like a shovel feeding 
a hungry furnace. Her cone-shaped breasts hung jiggling like water balloons 
as her hips see-sawed back and forth. She wanted more and more sex. Her womb 
demanded it. Margaret was not going to quit until he satisfied her wishes. 

Gordon had no intentions of giving up. Drips of cock fluid squeezed out of 
his cock head as he watched Sherry undressing and only a super-human effort 
stopped him from coming. 

What is she doing in the backyard without any clothes on, he thought. The 
little girl was not Margaret's kid, but she looked very familiar even though 
the distance was too great to make a positive identification. 

As much as he was drawn to Margaret's silky skin and lush, womanly curves, 
he couldn't stop watching the tiny intruder who now stood naked outside on 
the lawn. His eyes could only stare helplessly as the girl moved one way 
then the next, her finger caressing the tiny red nipples that dotted her 
chest. 

Outside Sherry had no idea she was being watched. She squeezed her rump 
muscles together and brought her fingers down to her crotch and rubbed the 
wet, glistening mound. The faster she rubbed the more excited Sherry became. 
Closing her eye lids, she saw swirling clouds of light punctuated by white 
colored explosions. She opened her thighs, squatting down in a wordless 
invitation for something to happen. The hot Spring wind swirled around her 
shaking thighs warming her wet snatch. Her fingers went to her hole and 
pleasure shot through her body as she rubbed her slit hard. 

"Oooooo!" she moaned. 

It felt so good squatting down, rubbing her cunt with the flat palm of her 
hand, that Sherry couldn't stop. She traced the swollen lips of her cunt 
with her finger, and when that made her wet, she started drilling into her 
fuck tube. In and out went her finger as she squatted lower and lower. Her 
twat spread open, ready and willing, and her legs trembled with excitement. 
If this was wrong, she thought mischievously, well, nobody was going to see 
her. 

Nobody that is except Gordon. Margaret was moaning with passion and her 
channel muscles flexed against his surging shaft. But Gordon didn't care. 
His eyes watched the mysterious youngster masturbating in the back yard and 
still he couldn't believe it. He was grunting like an animal. He couldn't 
help wondering what the little girl would be like spread open the way 
Margaret was positioned. He watched her squat and imagined those scrawny 
rump cheeks trembling in his hands as he bent her buttocks across a table 
and slowly fed hard dick into her cunt hole. Her virgin cunt hole at that! 

Margaret's sex odor made a cloud in the room and his nostrils flared as he 
sucked in the fragrance. It was the smell of lust and desire and sweltering, 
unreleased sex-the smell of an animal in heat! 

His balls swayed from the slapping flesh of Margaret's buttocks. Margaret 
was coming! Her thighs squeezed and bucked and humped. Her sweltering cunt 
channel closed down all squeaky tight around his pecker. The sperm churned 
up through his fuck wand as she moaned and begged for his hot love juice. 

"Fuck, baby, fuck!" he encouraged. He was talking to the little girl outside 
as much as he was to Margaret. His cock was hard, but he was not going to 
come just yet. He was going to give Margaret the fucking of her life. 

And he just might have too except Sherry picked that minute to dress up in 
her little league uniform. 

"It can't be!" roared a voice inside the house. It nearly scared Sherry 
witless. Looking around she saw the open window and then inside she saw the 
outline of a naked man on a bed. And he was staring at Sherry! 

"Ohhhh!" she gasped. She clutched at the buttons on her jersey. Sherry had 
to get away. And in one big hurry. She started to run for the gate, then 
remembered her torn clothing. But it was too late to go back. She ran to the 
side gate and unhooked the lock and was running at full speed out the gate. 

The uniform scratched her skin as she ran. The tingling between her legs 
hadn't stop just because Sherry was running away. If anything, the woolen 
cloth against her bare crotch acted as a stimulant. 

She jumped on her bicycle that was parked at the side of the house and 
pedaled madly off down the street, away from the Anson house. The long neck 
of the bicycle seat got wedged up her crotch. The wool was scratching her 
nipples and tingling the wet flesh of her cunt. It was going to be a long 
practice session. The seat pressing into her crotch as she jerked back and 
forth against the hard leather was almost as exciting as her finger. 

Sherry's heart beat a mile a minute. It throbbed so hard she thought her 
chest might explode. Now, safely away from the house, her face turned 
crimson red. How could she have been so stupid? As she neared the baseball 
diamond, the other girls were just arriving for practice. She was safe, at 
least for now. But a question still nagged her mind. 

Who was the man inside Mrs. Anson's house. It couldn't be Mr. Anson because 
Trixie said he was away on a business trip. So it had to be a stranger, 
someone who drove the green Chevrolet that was parked in the driveway. 

Sherry's heart was still pounding like jackhammer. The green car. She had 
seen it before. That worried her. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and maneuvered the candy red 
sports car through the mid-afternoon traffic wondering who the little girl 
was. 

How could this happen to me? Gordon asked himself. He sunk low in the 
driver's seat, his eyes almost level with the dash board. For drivers coming 
the opposite way, it appeared as if the sports car had no driver and several 
swerved instinctively, sounding their horns to show their displeasure. 

Gordon was barely aware of the noise. It was a bizarre situation. Nothing 
like it had happened to him before. What made young girls act so frolicsome 
and carefree? It was bad enough that this perfect girl was cavorting around 
in the backyard of a woman's house without any clothes on. But she was 
actually fingering her young pussy. He had watched it himself. And now 
driving down the boulevard, sunk deep down into the sports car seat, he 
could see her rump hunching up and down. There was nothing that could stop 
the girl. Her finger was jammed deep into the tiny folds of her pussy and 
she was rolling her hips, using the sleeve of her cunt against her finger. 
Gordon had stared over Margaret's hunching rear end out at the gamboling 
figure in the grass, her nudity showing the joy and innocence of youth. 
Margaret began to scream. 

"Oh, I'm going to come. I'm going to come.. . come! COME!! ! " 

Margaret's voice went off in the still room like a cannon shot. Her warm, 
soft cunt hole held his cock like a closed fist. Her butt, symmetrically 
perfect as a watermelon, jackhammered his cock. 

Ohhhh! Margaret was a good fuck! The squeaking bed became music to his ears. 
Sweat poured from her skin and he watched the salty fluid trickle down her 
back, through the crack in her butt and down her trembling thighs. 

His cock pounded and he thought his body was going to collapse against her 
tingling rump. Margaret worked his fuck pole like a finely tuned instrument. 
The wet, warm walls of her cunt sucked on the bulbous end like two lips 
sucking a ice cream through a straw. 

There was nothing for Gordon to do what grab hold of her rocking thighs and 
fuck Margaret until she collapsed. And that's what he did. He went through 
one screaming orgasm after another. And yet all the time he was feeding dick 
into her chasm, he couldn't take his mind off the nymph in the backyard. 

Now nearing the baseball field, Gordon gripped the wheel and groaned softly 
to himself. If only she had not held the baseball uniform, then he might be 
able to fool himself into believing that the nymph existed only in his mind. 
But the uniform had been a giveaway. The girl was real. And what was worse, 
she was on his baseball team. Ohhhh, he groaned. There was no shaking the 
girl from his thoughts. She was on the lawn playing with her pubes. She 
radiated a wonderful sexuality that excited him in way he had no control of. 
He imagined himself standing next to her telling the girl how naughty it was 
to run naked in public. 

Then with no warning, he imagined something else. His tongue was jabbing 
between her quivering cunt lips while she kicked and screamed for help. Oh, 
it was terrible to ponder such things. Her little, half developed cunt was 
no match for his thundering fuck stick. He wouldn't fit into her no matter 
how careful he was or how much lubricant he used. Why even Margaret could 
barely take in his fuck pipe without first stretching out her labia. 

But still he could lick her twat. His tongue was narrow at the end and got 
wider and wider going back until the raspy pink surface could cover her 
entire cunt mound! 

"Stop it," he shouted to himself. "Get hold of yourself, man. Start playing 
with that jailbait and you're finished." 

Staring out at the road, he saw a truck edging across the divider and he 
swung hard to the right almost careening into a Volkswagon full of 
teenagers. 

Up ahead was the city park. The road elevated slightly and acres and acres 
of green grass spread out before him. It was a pretty place with fountains 
and recreational playthings and a swimming pool for the grownups and half a 
dozen baseball fields. But Gordon didn't see these things; his eyes stared 
down at the ball diamond where tiny figures dressed in gray uniforms were 
playing ball. Out there, somewhere, was a little girl with blonde hair, blue 
eyes and a sensual little body. "Which one?" he asked, swinging into the 
parking lot. 

Only after he stopped, did Gordon notice the bulge in his crotch. His cock 
was hard again: hard as it had ever been. 

* * * 

Gordon Wilson had returned from Vietnam a war hero. It was at the height of 
the war in 1968 during the Tet offensive when the Viet Cong were threatening 
to take over the country and the US Marines picked Gordon to be a hero. He 
had been caught up in a fire fight near some village he could never 
pronounce and being too scared to run, Gordon had helped drag a few wounded 
Marines to safety. 

For this he received a batch of medals and several commendations. 

Gordon Wilson had returned home a war hero and he was looked upon with a 
mixture of awe and admiration by the towns people. They had all heard the 
story about Gordon rushing into battle to save his buddies. 

But there were a few stories they never heard. Gordon had come out of the 
battle field tired and exhausted. He had a three day pass to Saigon. A 
little booze and some Saigon poontang would clean away the fatigue. 

Gordon made the rounds of several gritty street bars, but the beer was 
terrible and the hookers were old and cynical. The drinks he bought that 
night had no effect on him. It was like drinking rancid water. 

A hooker finally caught his eye and after paying the madam, Gordon found 
himself walking through a dark alley way back to a small, ill-lit room. 

Gordon slowly unbuttoned his shirt while the girl watched inquisitively. As 
his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the prostitute was Chinese, not 
Vietnamese, and her teeth were straight and white. He unbelted his pants and 
lay down on the bed closing his eyes. 

She sat down on the mattress, then curled around his crotch. Her small 
breasts pressed against his belly, the red tipped ends pulsating against his 
skin. 

"What matter," she said. "Too much beer?" 

What the fuck is she talking about, he murmured. Rising up on his elbows, 
Gordon looked down at the naked Chinese girl. In her small palm lay his limp 
cock. 

He blinked twice. There was no sensation at all in his crotch. She ran her 
fingers along the flaccid foreskin trying to stir up some excitement by 
pulling on the bulbous end. 

Nothing happened. 

"No workee," the girl said. 

Gordon broke out in a sweat. From the time he was thirteen years old when he 
had coaxed his best friend's older sister to lift her skirt behind the 
woodshed, he had been potent. Not once had his prick been soft as putty as 
it was now in the curled palm of this Chinese hooker. 

His blood pounded in his temples, blinding his vision. It was hot and 
sweltering in the "hooch" and there was the movement of small insects and 
hungry rodents all around him. He was so scared he wanted to scream out. 

What has happened to me, he cried inwardly. Shame flooded his brain. It 
washed over the traumatic events of war and violence, soaking into his 
sub-conscious until Gordon felt small and helpless. Behind the suffocating 
shame lay guilt and beyond that lay an infinite darkness that was death 
itself. 

The girl pinched the circumcised penis tip and pulled his shaft straight up 
before Gordon's enormous, staring eyes. The girl looked into his eyes like a 
fortune teller staring into the tea leaves. He averted his eyes. He wanted 
to crawl up into a ball and die. Back at the hotel was his .45 automatic. 
His hands were shaking but he knew they were capable of holding the heavy 
gun and pulling the trigger. He shivered again. 

"You rest," said the Chinese girl. She climbed through his crotch and rested 
her cherry size nipples on his heaving chest. She wiped the sweat from his 
brow with her dainty fingers, and when he turned his head, he saw her 
fingers held a neatly rolled marijuana cigarette. 

"Smokee," she said. "Very good. I can help you, GI." 

He took the joint and inhaled the acrid smoke deep into his lungs as she lit 
the end. He didn't normally smoke grass, but the Chinese hooker was being 
nice and for some reason he trusted her. The Americans had helped the 
Chinese people living in Saigon. They were the only people over here who 
treat us decent, he thought, smoking the joint. His head began to reel and 
he lay back, not fighting the effect of the grass as music and sounds of the 
street and the hot stink surrounding Saigon swirled in his mind. 

He must have dozed off because he woke up to a dark room. He tried to move 
and couldn't. His arms and legs were useless appendages. He twisted his 
head. The oppressive heat covered him in its humid warmth. He realized the 
girl had slipped some drug in with the marijuana. Because he could feel his 
whole body as he lay on the bed with enormous sensitivity. He just couldn't 
move a muscle. Paralyzed yet terribly aware, he thought, viewing his 
condition. Amazing. 

The girl suddenly appeared through the doorway and she was not alone. 
Toddling along with her were two giggling girls, the oldest being perhaps 
fourteen. They were giggling at his naked body and he cursed the girl for 
bringing the kids in. The bitch, he thought. 

When my strength returns, I'll kill her. 

Then the older girl did a funny thing. She moved between his legs and 
gripped his cock with both hands. 

Gordon watched too astonished to say anything. My goodness! he gasped, as 
her tiny fingers ran up and down his wrinkled foreskin. The blood was 
pounding in his temples again, but his cock was flickering. Her tiny fingers 
tickled and teased the sensitive skin. 

Gordon looked up helplessly as the little girl fitted the end of his floppy 
cock into the warm hole of her mouth and gently sucked on the fast hardening 
end. 

"Likeee," said the Chinese hooker, a smile beaming on her lips. 

Gordon didn't know what to say. His cock was growing harder and stronger by 
the second. His wrinkled scrotum, once drawn up tight as a drum was all 
puffed out and swollen. It felt soooo gooood! Her tiny, childish lips made 
slurping sound against his penis. Her big round eyes looked up at him for 
approval and he could only nod for her to continue. 

You're a bastard, he thought. That girl is barely a teenager. Indeed, her 
breasts were so small that the ends just barely peaked through the pink, 
cotton blouse. The Chinese girl was thin as a reed and her long black hair 
was cut in bangs across her forehead and hung in pigtails down her back. The 
little top covering her tiny body was like those all school girls wore to 
school. 

The older woman just watched approvingly and Gordon wondered if this could 
be the mother. What a sickening thought. His stomach tightened up in a knot 
and he groaned to himself. That a mother would allow such a thing seemed 
intolerable. The little girl's teeth tugged gently at the knotty end of his 
penis sending a ripple of pleasure up along his spine. 

He was strong and hard and nothing had ever felt so fantastic. He groaned 
again closing his eyes as the little girl crawled up into his crotch. 

"Likee," said the mother. She bowed at the waist, a smile of accomplishment 
crossing her lips. She had lived in Saigon a long time, through twenty five 
years of war, and she had learned about men and violence and the ways flesh 
could be tortured and excited and made happy. 

The American was fighting back the desire which swept him up in its grasp 
like the raging sea swallowing up the tiny fishing boats that challenged the 
ocean. Gently she gripped the younger girl whose name was Yin to crawl up on 
the American's chest and lick his nipples. She would make this man strong 
and powerful again. She, Madam Sinn had done this many times. It was her 
power and knowledge of sex that brought the Americans back again and again. 
And this same knowledge of the sins of the flesh kept the Viet Cong from 
blowing up her prostitution parlor. War makes animals of us all, she mused 
as her young child Yin pulled off her dress and ascended the American's 
body. The madam felt a stirring between her finely shaped thighs. She too 
was excited by the raw red penis rising curving upwards in her older 
daughter's mouth. He was long and thick around as the bamboo pole. And the 
bloated sack hanging down from his cock was filled with the white hot seed 
of sex. Her daughter's mouth worked the end while her dainty fingers ran up 
and down the shaft. The blue veins lacing the erect penis were pulsating 
with blood. He is a man, the madam thought, her loins aching for his penis. 
But she would wait; the moment, afterall, belonged to Yin and Yang. 

Gordon felt humiliated by the two girls crawling across him like baby 
primates in a zoo. Sensation returned to his hands, but his arms were still 
weak from the drug-filled joint and he was forced to lay back as the two 
Chinks licked and sucked and jerked him off. 

Yin giggled as she rubbed her chest. But her mouth was deadly serious as her 
wet tongue lashed out teasing Gordon's nipples. He couldn't deny how warm 
and excited he was. His cock was bloated twice normal size. Only a super 
human effort could stop him from jizzing down her throat. 

But he couldn't hold out for long. Little Yin's naked rump was facing his 
mouth. Her butt was far from plump; but the graceful way her two buns curved 
down into her slender thighs was a sensation. As she raised up on her knees 
he looked through her crack at the hairless pubes underneath. His dry mouth 
was suddenly wet. Gordon cleared his throat. Yin's mouth was teasing the 
hell out of his tits and that other sister was jerking the end of his cock 
until he wanted to scream. There was no sound in the room except the 
pounding of his heart and the sound of lips sucking and licking. Yin's 
little cunt looked so inviting that he couldn't take his eyes away. The 
pangs of guilt were nothing compared to the surge of lust raging through his 
flesh. 

As if reading his mind, Yin arched her rump backwards, and Gordon finding 
the strength to raise his chin buried his face between her soft cheeks and 
found that hairless twat with his tongue. 

"Hmmmmmm!" the girl groaned. 

He was surprised by the Chink. Surprised that a girl so young would find 
him, an American old enough to be her daddy, to be exciting. Gordon was 
surprised at how wet that hairless cunt slit was. His tongue slithered back 
and forth, tasting the viscous fluid seeping from her slit. Her buns wiggled 
against his face, but his tongue licked at her twat, finding the clitoris 
wedged high in the folds of her labia, teasing her the way his cock might do 
before thrusting into her hole. 

"Aaaaahhhhhh!! " she gasped. 

He felt like joining her. It seemed incredible. If he had tried the same 
thing back home in his small town, the Sheriff might lynch him right on the 
spot. And Gordon might not blame him. But it seemed all right in Saigon. It 
was different here. 

He might hate himself later, but more than anything he wanted to fuck this 
little girl whose miniature cunt and slender buttocks held him captive. Oh, 
if that could only be, then nothing would bother him in this world again. He 
could walk away from this wretched straw shack wedged in the crooked alley 
way where disease and death and violence were every day occurrences and feel 
free. He could walk away, step on a Clamore and not care a bit as the steel 
ball bearing shredded his flesh. Because he would die a happy, satisfied 
man. 

But Gordon didn't die. Instead, Yin rocked her pussy back and forth across 
his tongue. Her cunt lips grew all soft and mushy. Its sudden movement made 
Gordon lurch forward. His tongue went rigid, forming a wedge shape, and 
surged forward into her cunt. Yin's buttocks snapped around his nose 
imprisoning his tongue in her cunt. Then she rocked slowly. Her moaning, 
sing-song voice was hypnotic, the pungent smell of her loins overwhelming. 
His balls pounded, his cock flickered and Gordon was momentarily stunned by 
the raw, pungent flesh clutching his face. 

At the other end, Yang lifted her mouth from his penis and under her 
mother's coaxing swiveled on his crotch. She was small and hairless between 
her legs like her sister. And her cunt hole was virgin. The thick, humid air 
swirled up under her trembling thighs, back through her ass slit causing the 
pink, wrinkled sphincter to ache. 

She looked at the horrible thick pipe sticking up from the bush of black, 
coarse pubic hair and her muscles refused to budge. Despite the urgent 
whispering of her mother, Yang could not bring herself to squat down on the 
penis. Even as the skin shone from the layer of spit so tenderly applied 
with her tongue, Yang could not. Her mother would beat her furiously, but 
she had been beaten before. 

"Do not disgrace me," her mother snapped. 

"But he is so large, he will hurt me. Hurt me worse than a thousand beatings 
wise mother. I cannot." 

A sharp, stabbing pain made Yang scream. She snapped her head and looked 
with horror at the bamboo staff her mother held in her curled finger. The 
round black eyes stared at Yang with such luminescent force that she almost 
fainted. 

Yang watched as her mother removed her short mini shirt and holding the 
stick firmly under her cunt began to lower herself. Yang gasped. It was not 
possible. And yet her mother was doing just that. She was taking the huge 
pole up into her cunt hole. It went up and up and up. The great length of 
pole sank into the black passion void that was her mother's cunt; it was met 
by a low moaning sound, a noise filled with pain and passion; a sound that 
prickled Yang skin. 

Quickly Yang squatted down on the erect cock. The rounded head fit snuggly 
between her pussy lips and squatting lower, the shaft went in nice and easy. 

"Ahhhhhhhh! Sooooo goooood!" cried the American. 

Yang turned and imitated the rhythmic hunching of her mother. The penis went 
up into her cunt channel with a squeaking sound. The shaft went deep into 
her narrow little channel. So deep that she cried out in fear as her flesh 
stretched out before the penetrating wedge-shaped head of his cock. 

Wet from her mouth and lubricated by twat juice, Gordon's prick drilled the 
girl's little hole. She was in a half squat, her clear, white skin drawn 
tight around her mouth and lips as the cock head pressed against her hymen. 
The pain was intolerable. She knew about this evil skin flap that prevented 
a man from experiencing her fully. It was going to hurt, but she was 
squeezing her thighs and forcing her rump downwards and her hymen was going 
to burst open. One way or another, he was going in all the way. 

Gordon was so excited he didn't know what to do. The girl's cunt was pushing 
his hard-on back into his crotch. And he felt angry and hot and guilty all 
at once. Thrusting his tongue upwards, he felt Yin spread lips of her cunt 
around his face. His face was soaked from her fuck juices. The electricity 
churned up in his balls made a beeline up his body and out through his 
tongue into her hole. Yin recoiled as passion reamed her twat. 

Ohhhhhh it was soooo wonderful! His emotions were doing a balancing act on 
the head of a pin. Even the soft plunge of pussy that enveloped his shaft as 
Yang's hymen popped open could barely raise surprise in Gordon. 

Quite suddenly his strength returned to his arms and legs. Licking the last 
drops of moisture from Yin's hole, he pulled her butt cheeks off his face 
and sat up. Yang had squatted down on his cocked legs straddling her crotch. 
Tears of pain and joy streaked down her flat face. They formed rivulets that 
streamed across her plump, brown colored nipples and trickled into her 
crotch where the trunk of his cock protruded. 

He saw his giant pole wedged in her hole, rolled his hips as warmth and 
passion and lust swelled his muscles and gasped out loud. 

"It's insane," he shouted. Quickly his fingers found Yang's small breasts. 
When she giggled at him, Gordon became angered and he pulled her tiny torso 
down on his and lay back on the bed. 

"Fuck me, fuck me, you little cunt!" he ordered. 

Now he had her and was fucking her this jailbait and nothing short of death 
would stop him from coming in her cunt. He gripped her butt cheeks and 
forced her hips to undulate against his shaft. Yang was screaming in Chinese 
but he didn't give two fucks. Over he rolled, splaying her legs wide while 
his cock filled her hole like a foot stuck in a sock. 

"Aaaaahhhh!! ! " he groaned. He rammed fucked her again and again until he 
was drained and tired. His balls ached with sperm. His shaft was throbbing 
with blood, the glans pulsating, ready. Ready to fuck! 

"In!" he roared. His hips flashed forward, the tiny child's hips popped up 
and he exploded. Thick, hot sperm shot from the end of his cock down into 
the tortured, bloody channel of her fuck hole. 

Yang shrieked. Her hips flailed about helplessly. The raw, painful flesh 
between her legs was all wet and warm from the thick cream spurting up 
inside. Her tiny nipples pulsated like tiny red stop lights. And the bed 
groaned underneath her back as the American's heavy, heaving, hairy chest 
pressed her down into the mattress. 

It was humid, hot and wet as a shower room and Yang couldn't breathe and she 
was frantic because this club buried in her womb was turning her loins on 
fire. Twisting was impossible. She could only lay back and receive. 

Though too young to realize what domination was, Yang instinctively followed 
Gordon's wishes. Her body became a warm, supple glove in which to thrust and 
fuck and come. And that he did. His jizz drained out his pecker in long, 
sticky strains until the girl's tiny socket could hold not another drop. 
Then he pulled free and ran his spurting shaft up along her sweltering body 
and jammed the throbbing end through Yang's lips. He found her throat in one 
sudden thrust. Her tongue licked furiously, curling around the wrinkled 
foreskin while her throat gulped down his sperm. 

It was good every glorious second. And when he at last fell exhausted to the 
bed, Gordon wondered if anything would ever feel so good again. 

He turned his head and there in the corner was the young mother. She was 
stripped bare of her clothing and Gordon saw her skin was jiggling like 
jell-o in a dish. Her lips strained to stifle the scream lodged on the tip 
of her tongue. And following a patch down through her small tits and along 
the hollows of her waist and along the tight sheet of muscles leading to her 
cunt. She was a beautiful, vibrant being, the bad light reflecting off her 
sweat coated skin, shimmering like glass. Down further, jammed into the 
tufted ball of hair, lodged the joy stick. His eyes watched the enormous 
wand gliding into her pussy and he was amazed. 

She's masturbating, he thought. Incredible, but true, the prostitute was 
driving the dildo device into her cunt, fucking her open, puffy hole with 
swift, powerful strokes. 

Her children were giggling and fumbling with Gordon's limp cock, their 
tender mouths sucking the bulbous end. 

My goodness! he exclaimed, surprised at the silly sound of his own words. 
The girls were urging him on, their voice grunting as their arms reached to 
push him over. Gordon realized that the lovemaking their mother had taught 
them was not over yet. He rolled over, craning his neck so he could watch 
the woman climax. She was ready. Her thighs trembled unsteadily as her hands 
were driving the stick into her pussy like a piston. 

"Aaaaaa!! " she gasped at length. She writhed against the walls. Her breasts 
shook uncontrollably. In went the stick a final last time and then she 
slumped down to the floor, falling on her back while her hand still held the 
mating club. 

"This is crazy," he thought. But it was not a dream. For the dreams do not 
knead the flesh and push and pull at your legs. Nothing in his imagination 
could produce this torrid scene of lust and depravity. He did not speak a 
word of her sing song language, but watching her squirm on the dirt, her 
back arched like a bow while the dildo impaled her could not be erased from 
his mind. 

So engrossed was Gordon, that he turned to realize Yin and Yang had managed 
to push him over on his belly. He looked back and saw Yin's pubes staring 
through the slit in her bent buttocks as she knelt at his side. 

No man in his right mind would let a thing like this happen, he told 
himself. Then in the middle of his self deprecation, he felt a twinge of 
pain shot through his backsides. 

"What the . . . " he began, but already it was too late to stop the girls. 
Yang was dipping her face between his butt cheeks and her tongue was out 
teasing and licking. 

The warm, raspy surface lapped greedily at his ass hole making Gordon groan. 
He pounded his fist on the bed groaning with desire, and racked with grief. 

Her tongue slurped against his asshole, going back and forth in just the way 
his tongue had licked Yin's tender pubes. Over and around her tongue went, 
working his butt like a paint brush until he was coated with her wetness. 

And there was nothing Gordon could do now except enjoy the secret pleasures 
of a little girl's mouth and remember how good the clean socket hole cunt 
had felt sucking his sperm. 

* * * 

The baseball field was velvet green and the girls, dressed in their drab 
uniforms looked like hefty pieces of lint covering a green background. 

He pulled the car behind the batters cage and stuck a fresh cigarette 
between his teeth. It was sunny and humid, not un-like those days in Saigon 
so many years ago. But of course times had changed. The girls out there, he 
mused were nothing like those giggling young waifs that sold their bodies 
for a crust of bread or a few bartered cigarettes. 

He hefted his pants which hung low on his hips as he stood over the dugout. 
Pulling a clipboard from the wall, he looked down the list of names. 

Which one, he thought. Which one was in the backyard squatting over her 
hand. His blood pounded in his temples again. Fuck it, he thought. This was 
not the time to dream about some young chickie who liked scratching her 
twat. Gordon needed money and he had a job to do, an awesome job. In the 
span of a few short weeks he had to turn these squirrelly little cock 
teasers into a little league team. 

He pushed his baseball hat back on his brow. And not just any old team; he 
had to have a winner. His contract didn't say as much, but if he wanted 
steady work, then that was what his bosses expected of him. 

Gordon spit his chewing gum on the grass. Fucking parents are more hotheaded 
when it comes to little league than the kids are. It was too damn bad that 
kid's games couldn't be left in the hands of the kids. 

But then he wasn't getting paid to be a philosopher. His salary was not 
being forked over to make them happy, but to get results. 

Gordon spit again and he started to walk towards the field when he heard a 
girl's voice behind him say, "Sorry I'm late Mr. Wilson." Gordon turned 
around and found himself staring into Sherry Jackson's pretty blue eyes. Her 
face was all covered with sweat and her strawberry blonde hair stuck out 
from under her baseball cap. 

He looked at her face, puzzled. "Get out on the field," he said. Then as an 
after thought added, "Where have you been anyway?" 

"Changing my uniform." 

He watched her buttocks moving up and down like ball bearings as she ran to 
the outfield to fuck fly balls. And suddenly he felt weak and shaky inside. 

Because he could never forget that movement. Not ever. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

It was a long, grueling practice for the girls and when it was over they all 
struggled to the dugout for one last pep talk by coach Wilson before heading 
home. 

Sweat poured from Gordon Wilson's brow. His hands were raw from batting fly 
balls into the outfield and his voice was hoarse from barking commands. 

Any other coach in his condition would have headed to the nearest bar for a 
few cold beers and then drive home to a hot shower and a good long sleep. 

But Gordon wasn't going home right away. All through the afternoon, he had 
watched Sherry Jackson running back and forth across the outfield. He was 
positive that she was the girl. The walk was a giveaway, but so was the way 
she stooped for ground balls. 

She was beautiful to watch in action, too beautiful. Careful, Wilson. This 
isn't 'nam. And your ass is in the slammer if you're not careful. 

After the pep talk he kept his eyes focused at the back of the dugout 
avoiding the girl's scrawny, waif like body. His cock coiled into a knot and 
he didn't want to look down. Spring a hard on with these girls and I'm 
finished, he realized. 

And yet the thought of sex was never far from his conscious mind. Having 
given his speech, he watched the girls scamper away and breathed a sigh of 
relief. It was going to be a long season. A very long season. 

Sherry was sweating up a storm. The tight fitting wool uniform scratched her 
skin and without underpants on the itching became unbearable. She dragged 
herself to her bicycle and swung a leg over the seat. 

It was a long way home, over two miles, and Sherry was so pooped that it 
seemed more like two hundred. The hot leather seat rubbed between her legs. 
The back and forth motion of bicycling had rubbed her cunt raw. It felt like 
her twat lips had been sandpapered right down to the naked flesh. 

The pain was bad enough. But the sweat had trickled between her butt cheeks 
causing her rump to itch. She watched the other girls as they left the park. 
Most had rides with their parents who made special trips out to watch their 
girls play baseball. If only her mommy didn't have to work, thought Sherry. 
Then she could ride home in a hurry and run upstairs and scratch her itch. 

But that wasn't the case. She had a long ride home and that made her mad. 
Which made her crotch itch even worse. It felt terrible and she had to 
scratch her wet mound right away. 

Walking behind a bushy elm tree, Sherry unbuckled her pants and slid her 
hand down between her thighs. The flesh was all puffed around the long dark 
slit that split the center of her crotch. She heard car engines starting in 
the parking lot as the happy families and their tired daughters began the 
trip home. Sherry leaned against the tree trunk which concealed her from the 
view of passing drivers and scratched her crotch. 

Ohhhh, that felt so good. The more she scratched the more her skin itched. 
Her fingernails attacked her pubes. But no sooner had she finished then her 
thighs began to tingle and then her rump and then the soft, downy skin 
between her butt cheeks. It was maddening for Sherry; it itched worse than 
poison ivy! The rash grew and grew until one hand was not enough to satisfy 
Sherry. She jammed both hands down the open fly of her pants, trying to keep 
her pants from falling off by clutching the waist band with her forearm. 

But it didn't work. And as she squatted by the tree, her pants suddenly 
dropped around her knees exposing her raw, red skin. Sherry didn't really 
care. Her fingers went back and forth across her clitoris, causing a 
strange, thrilling pleasure to shoot back through her cunt. It felt good. 
But not good enough. So she did it again. And again. Until Sherry was lost 
in her own little world rocking her hips back and forth like a human rocking 
horse as jolts of pleasure excited her pussy. 

Nothing could stop Sherry from masturbating. Nothing that is, except Gordon 
Wilson's grating voice. "What are you doing?" he barked. He knew damn well 
what the little brat was up to. He could hear her bleating like a sheep all 
the way from the dugout. Luckily, Gordon was the last one to leave the field 
or Sherry would really be in trouble. 

He stood staring there, not moving really, just letting his eyes take in the 
beautiful sight of Sherry's small curving rump and those nice, slender legs 
trapped at the ankles by her pants. 

The rise in his crotch, made Gordon sweat. Everywhere he turned, he found 
this girl with her pants down doing this lewd thing to herself. He thought 
possibly that she was part of some sinister plot to get him fired or thrown 
in jail. It was a crazy notion, but then Gordon had been fucking quite a few 
bored housewives and the word had to be circulating. 

Just then Sherry turned around. Her hands crossed her crotch and Gordon 
wished secretly that she would move her hands so he could study that 
hairless crotch that so enticed him. 

"I've got poison oak," she blurted out. Tears welled in the girl's huge blue 
eyes. "It hurt so bad," she blurted out. "I scratched and scratched and it 
only got worse. And I've got to ride my bicycle home too and that will only 
make it hurt worse." 

Instinct told Gordon, the girl was lying. He knew damn well what she was 
doing behind the tree And she deserved to be punished. Little girls have to 
learn sometime that they can't carry on in such a depraved manner with 
impunity. 

"Your father would give you a good spanking," said Gordon. "What your doing 
is . . . wrong." 

He could barely get the words out before his voice cracked. Yet her response 
was totally unnerving. 

"My daddy ran off," Sherry answered. "I have just mommy. And she has to work 
all the time." 

A flood of compassion went out to the girl. And Gordon forgot himself. 
Poison oak could be very dangerous if it was allowed to spread. It wouldn't 
be the first time he had misread a situation. 

He looked at Sherry with compassion, keeping his eyes leveled above her 
naked crotch. It's your job to keep the girls healthy, he told himself. Back 
in his car there was medicine for just such emergencies. It was only right 
to help Sherry. And give her a ride home too. That's what grown ups were for 
after all. To offer help children growing up in the world. 

"Pull your pants up," he demanded hoarsely. He turned quickly around to keep 
her from seeing the tent shape sticking out from his crotch. 

Sherry was terribly embarrassed. Her face was red as a beet. The itch had 
nothing to do with poison oak. 

But she couldn't tell the coach why her crotch was on fire. As she pulled on 
her pants and buckled the belt, Sherry started to smile. If her mother had 
been the coach, Sherry would have had her young ass paddled for sure. But 
Mr. Wilson was just feeling sorry for her. And that was fine with Sherry. 
Tagging along behind the coach, she decided he was a pretty good egg. 

By the time Gordon had retrieved his tote bag with the first aid medicine 
inside and walked back to the dug out, his face had broken out in a sweat 
and his hands shook so bad he could barely get the cap off the tube. 

Get hold of yourself, he thought. This is for the girl's own good. 

Sherry was also feeling excited. The back of the dug out was confining and 
the walls seemed to loom up at her like the walls of a cage. She felt shaky 
and sweaty and embarrassed. Her panties were on Mrs. Anson's lawn. 

She wanted to say no when Gordon asked her to unbuckle her pants and lie 
down on the bleacher seat, but she couldn't. She had made a little white lie 
about the poison oak and she was just going to continue, there was no 
backing down now. 

Biting her lip, Sherry dropped her pants. It was cold in the enclosure and 
goose bumps appeared on her milky white skin. She gritted her teeth and 
promised herself never again to be caught without panties on. She was just 
waiting for Mr. Wilson to ask why she wore nothing under her wool pants and 
despite the frantic way her mind sought a solution, Sherry could think of 
none. 

"Hmmmmm", said Gordon, admiring the smooth curve of her buttocks. Her buns 
were flexing and squeezing together in a manner so seductive that he could 
barely breathe. He fumbled with the tube of antiseptic cream as he watched 
her butt so nice and virginal it nearly made him spurt jizz in his trousers. 

"That's a-a-a nasty rash," he croaked. In his eagerness, Gordon had managed 
to squeezed the whole tube of goo into his hand. Shit, he felt so clumsy. 
But there was no stopping now. He had started and now putting his hand on 
her rump, he was going to finish. 

"Is that better?" he asked. 

Sherry wiggled. Relief spread through her body in wave after glorious wave. 
The cream was cold against her skin. But his palm was very, very warm. The 
goo went on nice and thick all over her buttocks and thigh and along her 
hips. The hand felt soft as silk against her skin and Sherry almost went to 
sleep because the stroking felt so good. 

"Has the itching gone away," he asked once more. All the time he rubbed her 
flanks, Gordon told himself he was only doing his job as a baseball coach. 
But now staring down at his hand wedged between the fleshy curve of her 
thighs, he realized how pointless his self deception was. He was dazed by 
the impact of his own salacious thoughts. Pulling his straight fingers 
through her legs sawing his way closer to her pubes, Gordon felt the 
collapse of whatever good intentions remained in his soul. 

"Now turn over," he said. 

Sharon giggled out loud. His hand was acting funny down there; it was almost 
as nice as her firm little bicycle seat. "Turn over," she asked. "Why Mr. 
Wilson. My rash is back there." 

"That's right, but weren't you scratching yourself in front," he reminded 
her. "I distinctly remember you using hands to . . . scratch." 

Well, he was right on that point and she couldn't very well deny it. He had 
seen her by the tree and pretending otherwise was foolish. 

I'll just keep my eyes closed, Sharon thought, turning on her hip. He'll be 
through in a minute and I can go home. Besides his hands do feel good. 

It was a good thing that her eyes were snapped shut because Gordon's tongue 
was hanging half out of his mouth giving him the appearance of a mad man. He 
raised his sticky fingers and brought them down gently on her hairless 
pubes. Sharon groaned out loud, raising her hips slightly off the bench. Her 
swelled cunt mound was still pink from her tiny hand rubbing the clitoris. 
And Gordon didn't waste any time stroking her slit. He followed the hollow 
of her thigh working the cream into a concentric pool. Her splendid pussy, 
wet still from her own stroking was exquisite jewel to be tended gently by 
his daring fingers. 

"Oooooo!! ! " she gasped. A laugh formed on her lips, but she realized how 
angry Mr. Wilson would be with her. He was being very nice to her and 
laughing, even though her skin was ticklish, was impolite. 

"Just about through," he wheezed. His eyes followed her tender slit which 
cut a fine little trail down through her legs. Her legs were clamped shut 
and he wanted desperately to reach through and touch her velvet flesh all 
the way down. 

He pushed in a futile attempt. She wouldn't budge without forcing Sherry and 
he wasn't ready for that. After all fooling around was one thing; rape was 
something else. 

So he withdrew momentarily and concentrated on her cunt. It was so small and 
tight, yet he knew how ripe that channel flesh could be inside. And the 
smell was thick and pungent. It formed a cloud around them and it drew 
Gordon closer to the little girl. 

"I think there's just a.. . " he began. Then suddenly Gordon quit stroking 
the girl's swollen mound. Because he was tired with the charade and in a 
momentary aberration, he drew his finger up against her slit and forced his 
way inside. 

Sherry's eyes popped open. He went into her cooze so quick and smooth that 
there was nothing she could do. The wet, finger felt terribly foreign 
climbing into the funnel shaped channel between her legs. How it tickled! 
She wrenched backwards, arching her pelvis straight up in the air towards 
his mouth. 

"Ooooooooo!" she gasped. 

The deep resonant sound of her voice crackled with electricity in his ear 
and immediately he removed his hands. Man alive, get hold of yourself before 
you go completely crazy. 

"Well, er,. . . That takes care of your rash," he said. He smiled down at 
Sherry and tried a fatherly chuckle which failed miserably. 

She was an urchin laid out before his lecherous hands. The shock of her 
nakedness made him recoil. Her tender flesh was covered with the thick gooey 
cream and it was pitifully obvious what had transpired. He hungered for that 
cold beer in the ice box. The bubbly fluid would feel soothing going down 
his parched throat. Anything but this, he said to himself. He held a hand 
out to Sherry and as quickly as his conquest had begun, it was over. 

"There you go," he said, pulling her wool pants up around her waist. "You're 
all set." 

Sherry was no fool, but she couldn't make head nor tails of the coach's 
bizarre behavior. It was wrong for him to stick a finger into her slit. Mr. 
Wilson knew it too because his eyes were all glassy and he was acting very 
strange in her presence. She looked down and was surprised at the bulge in 
his crotch. It was enormous and Mr. Wilson made no attempt to hide himself 
or turn away. Mommy would be angry if she told about Mr. Wilson. But she 
wouldn't tell of course. He had seen Sherry doing that awful thing to 
herself by the tree. And that was very bad. Mommy would really be angry with 
her. 

Sweat poured from Gordon's face. He brought his finger covered with the 
wonderful stink of Sherry's ripe virgin hole up to his nose and sniffed the 
wonderful fragrance. He knew right then he had to have Sherry's body. He 
could no longer satisfy himself with warm over reveries of Vietnam. Those 
Chinese girls had awakened deep dark desires in him that could never be 
capped. 

Sherry's hole was hot and moist. Ramming his finger into her slit had been 
sensational. Her cunt was so awfully tight, it was like fitting a soft bun 
around a hot dog. Each twitch of her hips had caused new sensations to churn 
in his gut. His cock had not gone down in half an hour and the thick shaft 
hurt terribly. He could go jack off, but his prick would get hard again 
after a few minutes and he would be right back where he was now dreaming of 
Sherry little cunt. 

There was no way out; he was trapped. Sherry was buckling her pants and if 
he were to act, it would have to be in a hurry. 

"Are you feeling better?" Not that he gave two shits about her health or the 
rash, if there had been one. But he felt forced to say something. Her 
bicycle was in the rack. Already darkness was setting in and he could see 
that there was no light on the handle bars. 

His brain began whirring like a computer spitting out bits of information. 
How simple it would be to offer Sherry a ride home. After all, little girls 
should not ride bicycles at night without a headlight. It was against the 
law. 

He took Sherry's little hand in his hand led her to the car. "I'll give you 
a ride home," he said. 

"That would be nice," Sherry answered. 

Very nice indeed. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

You likkee, said the giddy woman. Having fucked herself into one orgasm 
after another on the wooden dildo, the woman was now watching the American 
GI groaning under the expert stroking and licking of her two lovely 
daughters. It sent a thrill rushing through the Chinese woman's flesh. 

No matter who won the war in Vietnam, her daughters would never lack for 
food or shelter. They would never grow old and jaded like the other girls 
who lined the streets of Saigon. Because her daughters had been taught well 
the art of making love. And their skills were highly prized, no matter who 
won the war. 

Gordon could only manage a groan. The hot wet tongue glued to his asshole 
made him shiver all over. At the other end of that tongue was attached a 
beautiful young girl no older than thirteen. And she was doing this wild 
thing to him. As the licking increased to the fast paced rhythm, Gordon felt 
his cock growing hard once more. 

"Oooohhhh soo goood!" he moaned. He did want to stop her from toying with 
his butt, but his cock was in need of servicing. Apparently the old lady was 
aware of his resurging manhood because she shouted a few words in Chinese 
and Yin crawled out of his rear. 

As she moved, Gordon was over on one hip and quickly had her by the thigh. 
Her face was a mask of innocence, the eyes wide and shining. Never once did 
she look down at the enormously erect penis sticking straight out at her 
cunt. 

Not more than six inches away was her cunt hole, no bigger than a round 
nickel. At first, sticking that huge fuck stick into her vagina seemed an 
impossibility. 

But he would make it fit.. . . 

It was a fifteen minute drive to Sherry's small two story house. But it was 
the longest fifteen minutes of Gordon's life. He stared straight ahead 
through the windshield in a stony silence. And his fingers gripped the 
steering wheel so tightly that the knuckles popped out like little white 
marbles. 

His mind was yo-yoing through time. The warm blanket of humidity covering 
the flat prairie land during the summer was stifling. He tugged at his shirt 
collar as his lungs heaved for oxygen. It was the intense, oppressive heat 
one found in the Delta during the Monsoon season when the sweat gushed from 
the skin like water from a sponge. 

Yin and Yang, he thought. How nice they were, he thought, his hard cock 
stretching his underwear aching to spring free in the air. If he could have 
one wish in the world, it was to return to Saigon and the open arms of those 
two teenage nymphos. It was all right over there in the Orient. Even though 
the people were all fucked up with disease and filth and the streets smelled 
of garbage and death, at least the women were all right. 

His attention snapped back to the present as Sherry stretched her arms and 
yawned. It was obvious that he had gone too far. After sprawling her on the 
bench and ordering Sherry to pull down her pants Gordon realized his 
mistake. He had stuck a finger into Sherry's warm little cunt! My God that 
would be impossible to explain away. And then following up by sticking his 
tongue against her slit was just insanity. 

He turned down the street and passed Margaret Anson's house before coming to 
a stop. Sherry was bouncing up and down, happy to be home and he was glad. 
She acted so happy that perhaps she would forget about today. 

"Let me help you with the bicycle," he said. Gingerly he stepped from the 
car back to where the bicycle was tied inside the trunk. It was the least he 
could do for Sherry considering how nice she had been to him. 

Just then a red car came down the street. Gordon turned around holding the 
bicycle in his arms. He wasn't paying much attention to the car until it 
came abreast and it dawned on him Margaret Anson was behind the wheel. 
Quickly he tried to turn away but she drove by. Too late. He'd been seen 
already. 

"What's the matter, Mr. Wilson," said Sherry. The smile had turned into a 
tight lipped frown making Sherry wonder if she had done something wrong. Mr. 
Wilson was all sweaty and tired looking and maybe he wanted to come inside 
and have a cool drink. "Would you like some lemonade?" she asked. 

Gordon snapped his head around. The sudden movement caused Sherry to flinch 
and in that moment he saw her in a different light. Not as a nice girl 
needing a ride home, but as the helpless, pleading child who lay on the hard 
wood beacher with her pants rolled down around her knees and who let him 
lick and finger her luscious twat. 

"Mommy won't be home for two hours," said Sherry. "But there are cookies and 
stuff to eat. And I don't think she'd mind." 

Gordon didn't need urging. Perhaps when his tongue had begun licking her 
pubes and had started the journey through her vagina that he knew it would 
end this way. He pulled his baseball cap down tightly on his brow and 
hitched his shoulders. His cock, which had been hard for hours, stuck out 
like an arrow. The tip pointed straight at Sherry's mouth and he made no 
attempt to cover up his erection. 

"I am a bit thirsty," he said. Already his mind was drifting again back to 
those days spent in the Chinese whorehouses. Except this time the squirming 
white bodies had Sherry's face stuck on them. 

He took her hand in his and together they walked up to the house. 

* * * 

The living room inside Sherry Jackson's home was neat and clean. From the 
reproduction of famous paintings on the walls, to the magazines carefully 
arranged on the coffee table that squatted before the couch, it was evident 
that Mrs. Jackson worked hard to provide her daughter with a nice house, a 
place she would not be embarrassed to bring her friends to. 

Sitting on the couch, holding his lemonade in his hand, Gordon regretted his 
decision to come inside. Sherry was an awfully nice girl. She was a 
virgin-he knew that-and it was not right that an old man like himself should 
deflower a young girl. 

So he sipped his drink with some consternation: he had gone too far as it 
was with Sherry, but there was still time to get away. How simple it would 
be to put down the lemonade, says goodbye, and drive off. He was enormously 
horny, but Margaret was home and would be more than happy to oblige him. The 
trouble was, he didn't want to go. 

And Sherry wasn't helping matters. like many girls her age, Sherry liked to 
flirt with men by wiggling her hips or jumping up and sitting in their laps. 
And Gordon Wilson was no ordinary man. She was drawn to him by guilt; but 
now another force was pulling her close. It was a power so strong that just 
being near him made her heart throb wildly and her knees go weak. 

She didn't want him to go. And yet his lemonade was almost gone so she had 
to do something. And then the idea came to her all at once. 

"Mr. Wilson," she said innocently, "I need some more lotion on that poison 
oak. My rash hurts so bad." 

The hurt feeling was all gone from her behind. But it was one way to make 
him stay. And feeling him spread cream all over her rump felt wonderful. 

Sherry jumped up on his knee and before Gordon could say anything, she was 
rocking back and forth straddling his thigh. She smiled as wide as her 
little mouth would permit and then looking down, she saw the bulge once 
again rising out of his crotch like a boxing glove and she asked: "What's 
that?" 

Well, she knew damn well what it was. And Gordon made no move to stop her 
hand from coming down and pushing against his coiled up pecker. She wriggled 
when she realized that his cock was really underneath his pants and not a 
jock strap with a protective cup. 

Gordon was breathing hard through his mouth. He made one last effort to get 
the hell out of the house but even as he reached for Sherry it was too late. 

Instead of getting an arm, he grabbed her thigh. Surprisingly, her pants 
were loosely tied and with a short tug, they came away exposing her bare 
rump. 

"Oh, darling," he gasped, stroking her flesh. "I mean, Sherry, where does it 
hurt." 

The lotion was back inside the car, but rolling down her pants so her buns 
were exposed to his gazing eyes, Gordon didn't care. He knew how to heal the 
hurt. His fingers gently plied her flesh until goose bumps rippled across 
the tight, white skin of her buttocks. Then he pulled her cheeks apart and 
dipped his face downwards, his tongue extended like a spear. 

Sherry squealed. The sensation of his tongue slipping down her butt crack 
was tremendous. She arched her hips backwards causing her brown butt hole to 
pop up against his wet, raspy tongue. 

Lowering his head, he continued licking Sherry until his wetness covered her 
every inch of her backsides. He could tell she enjoyed his lovemaking by the 
way her buttocks flexed each time he went down on her. 

He pulled her pants completely away and turned Sherry around on his knee. 
How beautiful Sherry was! he thought. 

"Now Sherry you must realize that this is for your own good," he said, 
unloosening his pants. "Remember that." 

She didn't know what Mr. Wilson was talking about, but she kept her blue 
eyes glued to his pants, curious to see if his cock was really that big. His 
fingers fidgeted with the zipper and right before her he yanked once and his 
cock shot out through the vent in his underwear, straight at her mouth. 

"Ohhhhh!" she gasped. 

At that instant while Sherry was momentarily overcome with surprise, he 
grabbed her face firmly and pulled downward, driving his cock through her 
wet, tulip shaped lips. 

She squeezed against the invading shape, but much too late. Gordon was 
thrusting. His cock was buried in her warm mouth and he was thrusting and 
her little baby face was taking him all inside. The tip burst through 
slipping around like an eel before finding the nice warm hole at the back of 
her throat. Then he went in and out, even while Sherry was gagging, his dick 
was feeling the joys of her youth. 

Sherry wanted to scream. She couldn't of course because of the sausage size 
prick jammed down her mouth. So instead, her finger found his scrotum and 
played with his nuts. This of course caused Gordon to fuck harder. 

The tiny muscles in her rear, still wet from licking, started to pulsate. 
She tried to block out the pain by drawing her knees up to her belly, but 
that did no good. It was still there, a spasmic flexing of her anus that 
made Sherry want to turn over and have Gordon lick her again. 

Please shove your tongue into my butt and make it stop hurting, she cried to 
herself. He wouldn't do such an awful thing, and Sherry couldn't ever ask 
him to. It was much too embarrassing. So she put up with the weird sensation 
and suddenly the pain started to travel through her spread thighs and into 
her long, spread slit. It stopped there, then started to glow. Sherry was 
warm and passionate all over. She opened her throat to the long, cushiony 
tube jerking back and forth through her puckered lips and sucked. 

"Hmmmmm!" Gordon exclaimed. His balls were steaming as he drove his pecker 
obscenely into Sherry's mouth. Thin blue veins crisscrossed the surface of 
the wrinkled foreskin, the skin now glistening from her sweat, juices. 
Suddenly, he popped out of her face. 

"Ohhhh, don't stop!" Sherry gasped. Her tiny fingers clutched his scrotum 
pulling on his testicles with nice rhythmic tugs. The hard muscled cock 
flickered like a cobra snake before her eyes. Instinctively, Sherry knew 
that sperm would come spurting out the tiny hole in the center of the bullet 
shaped head. But when? Urgently, she tugged some more. 

I want him in me, she thought. Her cunny was hurting like hell. The tiny 
slit, swelled out with blood until the folds had turned crimson red, 
throbbed. That big thing looking back at her mouth was destined to end up 
inside that little slit. The more she looked, the bigger his pecker became. 
It wrenched her guts to see how big Mr. Wilson's cock was and it terrified 
the little girl imagining him rutting her hole. 

Gordon was thinking the same thing: The last thing in the world he wanted to 
do was rape the little girl. Hell, he hadn't fucked her cunt yet. Without 
intercourse, the worse sentence the courts could hand down would be five 
years. But man, stick that wienie into her pussy and Gordon, old boy, you 
were facing a life sentence. 

A cool breeze swept through the room sending a chill of pleasure down his 
cock and up his spine to his brain. 

He sucked the clean air into his lungs and slowly exhaled. His mighty hands 
held Sherry's tiny twig like arms. She was so small and defenseless in his 
grasp that a twinge of compassion thrilled his heart. He looked down into 
those big blue eyes that stared up at him with a youthful incredulity and it 
was right then he knew what had to be done. 

"Put your hand on it, darling," he groaned. 

Obeying him, Sherry reached out with her hand and grabbed the swollen knob 
on the end of his fuck stick. It felt gooey from the juices of her mouth, 
and the rubbery head was much softer than it had seemed in her throat. 

"I think you know what comes next," he said. While she jerked his pecker 
head, Gordon spread her legs out straight and grooved a finger into her 
cunt. 

The ring of twat muscles gripped his finger hungrily, like a clamp closing 
down on a small shrimp. She was tight, and his dick was going to hurt and 
she might scream a few times, but he wasn't letting this obstacle deter him. 

"Now move your fingers up and down the shaft," he commanded. 

Sherry was hypnotized by the action of her slender hand on Gordon's thick 
stick. She felt his pulse pounding in the long underside of his pecker. He 
was nearly as excited about sex as she was. Raising the cock upward to her 
face, she attempted to stick the wet pecker head back into her mouth. But 
Gordon stopped her. 

"Not there," he groaned. He pushed her hands holding his cock down towards 
the tiny glistening hole between her legs. "In there," he said. 

Sherry didn't resist one bit as Gordon pulled her thighs up and bent forward 
so his cock slid down towards her cunt hole. 

She didn't move when the bullet shaped prick popped through her pussy lips. 
Sliding gently in and out of her channel opening felt good. The delicate 
flesh was being reamed into a nice big hole for the rest of his prick. 

Gordon, aching with desire, bent forward and kissed the inside of Sherry's 
ear. At the same instant, his prick tube went halfway into her channel. 

Sherry's hips bucked. Waves of pain ripped through her flesh. It was like an 
electric switch had been thrown. She struggled to stop him, but already too 
late, her little cunt started to grow bigger and bigger until Gordon was all 
the way up to her maidenhead. 

"Ooooooo!" she gasped. He was too big, but she wanted him there. His shaft 
poked against the flap of skin and bounced off. Then again his hips flexed 
and his cock surged. The fiery tip stretched her rubbery skin flap until it 
suddenly burst apart and his giant cock rammed into her startled channel. 

"Yaaaaa!! ! " Sherry screamed. Tears flooded her eyes. The little hole 
between her legs felt ripped apart, as if a long, red hot poker hand been 
shoved up there. 

She twisted one way then another, but nothing could make the evil fuck pole 
leave her cunt. Or stop the slow, even thrusting of Gordon's hips. 

He was pumping slowly and steadily, reaming her channel walls with his 
pecker. And it felt good. So damn good that his sperm welled up in the wedge 
shaped head and all of a sudden he had to come. And come almost immediately. 

Sherry was wiggling frantically. Gordon Wilson was crushing her right to the 
floor with his enormous body. She smelled the sweat pouring off his hairy 
chest and her rubbery legs were spread wide apart under his bouncing, 
powerful hips. His cock pumped furiously into her hole. He grunted like an 
animal and bit her on the ear. 

Slowly Sherry started to come around. As Gordon's fingers slipped through 
the crack in her ass and pulled her tiny hips up against his fuck tool, 
using her tiny body to fuck his dick instead of the other way around, she 
started to move. 

She was excited all right. Excited from fear, then pain and now pure 
pleasure. Each jab into her cunt set off another flurry of excitement. The 
harder Gordon Wilson fucked, the more joy she experienced. 

Her head was spinning faster and faster like a merry-go-round suddenly gone 
out of control. Or like a top swirling off into space. 

She was so lost in her own pleasure world, that Sherry didn't hear Gordon 
scream. She only felt his sudden flurry of hip thrusts and then the geyser 
of molten liquid spewing into her cunt. It was hot and sticky and it 
thoroughly soaked her pussy. Gordon rammed his juice into her twat and now 
it was spewing out the parted twat lips dribbling like a faucet on the rug. 

Sherry was so happy that she was going to scream. Only another voice beat 
her to it. 

"What the good goddamn is going on!" shouted the voice. 

And Gordon Wilson groaned to himself. As his hot joy cream shot into 
Sherry's cunt taking his passion with it, he realized that it was all over. 

He recognized that voice anywhere. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Seeing the green sedan again, and the possibility of having Gordon Wilson 
back in the sack so soon made Margaret Anson tremble all over. 

As she was driving by, Mrs. Anson noticed that her lover was pulling a 
bicycle out of the trunk for the Jackson girl. Oh, he'll be here any minute, 
she thought, barely able to control herself. The car weaved back and forth 
across the road as Mrs. Anson fought the steering wheel and her own pent up 
desires. 

She managed to park in the driveway without smashing anything into bits and 
hurried into the house. The bedroom was a mess and quickly she straightened 
the sheets and blankets. It wouldn't do to greet her man with rumpled 
bedding. At least not to Margaret Anson's way of thinking. 

While she waited, Margaret stripped off her clothes and jumped into the 
shower. The stream of hot bath water felt sensational on her ripe, gourd 
shaped breasts. It felt even better when she bent over so the water could 
wash down her butt and warm the nice wide cunt pelt of fur covering her 
twat. She turned slowly underneath the torrent of water spurting from the 
shower head. Thick clouds of water vapor billowed in the tiny bathroom. 

She was excited, terribly so and the minutes dragged by like hours as 
Margaret waited for Gordon to return. Stepping out of the shower and 
reaching for the thick thirsty towel, she rubbed her milky white skin dry, 
then looked into the mirror. Her hard, red colored nipples jutted out all 
swollen from the hot bath water. 

She wiped the fog from the mirror. Her breasts were swelled up and the dull 
throb of pleasure was coursing through her melon sized glands and out the 
ends. 

"Damn," she exclaimed. "Where is he anyway?" 

It was not hard to draw up a mental picture of Gordon Wilson standing there 
in the bathroom. His broad muscular shoulders, thin waist and long 
protruding cock meant one thing to her: sex. One look at his obscenely large 
pecker was enough to turn her iron will soft as jell-o. Margaret's friends 
on the PTA would have been astonished to learn of their friend's rampant 
sexual fantasies. Margaret, to most of the public, was very quiet and 
reserved. 

She was known as a pillar of moral rectitude in the community, a leader and 
upholder of decency in the school system. So to see Margaret squirming 
between the sheets, gingerly licking the large, purplish knob capping Gordon 
Wilson's pulsating cock was wild beyond belief. 

As another five minutes passed, Margaret's impatience turned to anger. The 
bastard wasn't coming. She felt her hands fumbling for her clothes hanging 
on the hall tree in the bedroom. Her expectations had brought her to the 
peak of excitement and now nothing to show for it. 

Her mind raged with jealousy. Gordon was dropping off the kid's bicycle but 
now she could remember tiny bits of information that at the time seemed 
unimportant. Why had he turned his head as when she drove by. What was he 
trying to hide. Perhaps, it was her jealousy that made her think the 
unthinkable. 

But quickly dressing she had to find out. Margaret didn't know Sherry's 
mother very well. But if Gordon was two timing her, Margaret was not above 
revenge. 

Margaret's pink nipples rubbed against the sheer material of her blouse and 
suddenly expanded to sharp points that dragged back and forth causing 
electricity to shoot back through her chest. The adrenaline was pumped into 
her muscles as she jumped into the car. Sex was a strange force, she 
thought. She was strong as an ox and mad enough to kill and all because she 
felt jilted by a man. "The bastard," she mumbled. 

Margaret's temper had a short fuse. And when she saw the green car parked 
out front of the Jackson's house and the bicycle propped up against the 
picket fence, she exploded. Screeching her car to a halt, Margaret leaped 
from the driver's seat and charged the front door. 

A thousand thoughts of betrayal coupled with the deep longing for sex made 
her crazy. The front door was unlocked and twisting the door knob, Margaret 
was inside the house, bent on revenge. She had hoped to find the two love 
birds caught in a rapturous embrace. Whoever this Kate Jackson woman was, 
she was not going to get away stealing her man. 

Not knowing where to begin in the strange house, she stormed into the 
kitchen, then turned glancing at the living room, before planning her 
assault on the bedroom. 

That's when she saw them hunching against the floor. Her lungs drew in a 
deep breath then she stopped cold in her tracks. Underneath Gordon Wilson's 
flexing rump was a woman all right. A compact version of what Margaret had 
expected to be the older Kate Jackson. 

Time seemed to stand still. Margaret shouted out something, but already she 
realized the mistake. Because the shock of seeing Sherry hunching, her 
androgynous body underneath all that strength and muscle was too much. 

He's fucking a child! The lewdness of the position the poor girl was in 
brought a lump to Margaret's throat. Her knees went slack, buckled under her 
weight, and Margaret collapsed to the floor unconscious. 

On the floor, the up angle shot of Margaret magnified the woman's size. And 
when she fell, it was like a giant redwood crushing down in the forest. Only 
this was no tree, it was Margaret. And it didn't take a genius to figure out 
the trouble he was in. 

His sperms had filled the virgin sleeve of Sherry's cunt and now dribbled 
through her slit and down the plump cheeks on her butt to the floor where a 
small puddle formed. It was wicked but he didn't have a worry now that it 
was all over. If only Sherry had worn panties to the game; if only she had 
not found shelter behind that tree to scratch her pubes, then this never 
would have happened. 

He put his hands on either side of Sherry's hips and pushed himself up. His 
spent cock, limp as a noodle, retreated from her cunt hole, wiggling like a 
worm. 

What am I going to do? he thought. Margaret is passed out on the floor. What 
is she doing here? And what about Sherry? God, I'm in the deep shit. 

Sherry squirmed and raised up on one elbow. She was wet and greasy and 
exhausted. She had expected a lot more blood than the few drops that 
splattered her thighs. His cock had hurt like hell all right. It burned her 
flesh all the way up to her head and down again. But the fucking had been 
sensational. She had responded eagerly like a real mature woman once she had 
gotten over her fright of his erection. Now looking down at the flaccid, 
sperm coated pecker, she felt very strange. The cock was only half the size 
of the throbbing fuck rod that had pushed a path through her fiery loins. 
Wiggling down through his legs so her face was once again underneath his 
tired cock. Sherry was alarmed at Mrs. Anson's appearance, but not shocked 
beyond words as Gordon was. Her little mind was focused totally on the 
wilted cock pipe. A low grade orgasm continued to thrill the sperm coated 
walls of her twat. It was a feeling that was numbing and yet exciting. So 
looking up, Sherry watched his prick with awed fascination. She didn't have 
to be told what to do. She raised up, opened wide, and in went the dripping 
sex pipe between her lips. The knotty end slipped between her lips and 
filled her mouth easily. Even limp, his cock was still thick around as a bat 
handle and long as a Havana cigar. She sucked out the salty fluid from the 
end making sure to drink it down. His balls wagged back and forth while her 
lips tugged on his pecker and that only made sucking that much more 
enjoyable. She sucked and suddenly his cock stiffened up, ready for a few 
more thrills. 

"Ohhhh, that's goooood," groaned Gordon. It was a nice feeling, a very 
soothing wonderful sensation really, and one which he did not want to stop. 

But what was he going to do about Margaret. She was just laying on the 
floor, collapsed like a beached seal. He had to help Margaret. It was only 
right, even if she ratted on him to Sherry's mother. His pecker continued to 
flex, now semi-erect and growing in Sherry's licking, sucking mouth. 

Margaret took that moment to groan. Tossing her head, she started moving 
around trying to get up. In a second, she would have recovered and he would 
be forced to face Margaret. It was terrible. What was this woman doing 
inside the house anyway? 

Margaret lay like a crumpled sack of laundry. Her legs sprawled at awkward 
angles and her tits hung slack across her chest. The pretty, willing 
housewife who squatted so cheerfully on her husband's bed while he slammed 
home his cock was in reality, just one more jealous bitch. 

A secret smile spread across his lips. Down at his groin came the slurping 
sounds of Sherry's mouth cleaning his fuck pipe. He was hard again, an 
amazing feat of strength considering he had fucked Sherry half to death. He 
reluctantly pulled out of her mouth and rose up on unsteady legs. 

He had a plan. It was crazy perhaps, but then the whole day had been like 
that. And he didn't have much to lose, not anymore. 

"Where are you going," asked Sherry. Her mind had been set on sucking his 
funny shaped tube. Maybe it might spurt in her mouth the way it had down 
between her legs. But that possibility was not in the cards. Because Gordon 
was advancing on Margaret Anson, his pecker waving like a baton. 

"Get away, you pervert," snapped Margaret. "I saw you. Now leave me alone." 

He circled Margaret working the knotty end of his cock with two fingers. 
Quite unexpectedly, he grabbed Margaret under the arms and pulled her to her 
feet. 

"This is ridiculous," she snapped, still groggy. 

"You're going off the deep end." Gordon was half listening. 

Margaret wore a frilly cotton blouse that was so thin you could see her 
jiggling breasts underneath. Gordon gripped the garment at the collar and in 
one downward motion, tore the blouse off her back. 

"Gordon!" she exclaimed. 

But he was already at her pants, popping the waist button and tearing the 
fly apart. It happened so fast, that Margaret's pants were lying in a pile 
at her feet before she could do anything. 

"Spying cunt!" he sneered. Anger pulsated through his arteries. He felt an 
unfathomable loathing for this woman. He was burning up, a cauldron of 
molten violence. 

Margaret's breasts heaved up and down. She felt stupid standing virtually 
naked before Gordon and the girl. Her feet were trapped by her pants, and 
she was unable to move. If he touches me I'll kill him, her mind screamed. 
But she wasn't so sure now. 

Suddenly his hand lashed out. Margaret shrieked when she felt her panties 
stretch, then ripped away from her crotch. Her knees shivered as she 
realized how defenseless she was. And how violent her lover had turned out 
to be. 

"Come here," he snarled. Throwing an arm around her middle, Gordon carried 
Margaret into the kitchen like a sack of potatoes. On the table were piled 
the dirty dishes from breakfast. Here, he pushed her face down on the table 
so her body was bending over the table. Dishes went flying everywhere as 
Gordon positioned himself behind Margaret, whose flesh trembled all over. 

"This is for spying," he bellowed. Raising his hand, he looked at her 
flawless skin, curved buttocks and then brought his open palm down on her 
skin with a whack. 

"Yaaaaa!" Margaret screamed. 

A red mark the size of his palm appeared on her butt cheek. He looked down 
the dark black line that split her rump cheeks and felt a knot coil in his 
stomach. Up came his hand again, then down hard on her butt. Again and again 
he walloped her behind until her buns were lobster pink and Margaret was 
bawling like a baby. 

"Whaaaa!" she cried. Her legs kicking up and down as her plump rump, used to 
tickling and caressing, was now absorbing the bone jarring smack of Gordon's 
open hand. 

Gordon merely chuckled at Margaret's plight. The girl had a lesson coming to 
her anyway. When he finally stopped his hand tingled from making contact 
with her ass and he could only guess at the feeling on her buttocks. 

"Dirty bastard," Margaret cried. She clutched a butter plate and threw it 
behind her missing Gordon by inches. Bent over the table so her legs were 
barely touching the floor was a lewd, humiliating position. She hated Gordon 
from the bottom of her heart. Margaret felt betrayed. Having opened her 
heart to this man, having cheated her husband so this man could feed cock up 
her slot meant nothing to this bastard. He treated her like a common slut. 
Her breasts lay in a sea of half eaten eggs, cold coffee, and orange and 
broken dishes of butter and jam. It wasn't even her house! 

"That was a nice throw with the butter," Gordon chuckled. 

"Oh shut up," snapped Margaret. She was trapped as securely as a rat in a 
cage. She wasn't going anywhere. How she could ever have loved a man like 
him was behind her. 

Gordon's chuckle turned into a belly laugh. He was looking at the nicest ass 
he'd seen in quite some time. The gash running through her thighs was nice, 
wet pussy. He straddled her legs and slipped his hard cock between her 
thighs and spread them wider and plunged it up her pussy. 

"Aaaargh!" Margaret moaned. Despite herself, she couldn't hate his warm, 
hot, surging cock. The round bullet head rammed through her cheeks up into 
her cunt sleeve in a single movement. The hairy puckered cunt lips parted 
open, then slammed shut swallowing his shaft. The stimulation was sizzling. 
Her cunt was like an oven-and he was only halfway inside! 

"You ain't bitchin' no more," Gordon said with a smirk. 

Margaret replied by wiggling her loins back against his crotch. 

When this is over, I'll get even, thought Margaret. No one treated her like 
dirt. But at this moment, she couldn't berate anyone. That cock felt like a 
Roman candle going off in her twat. She twitched her hips and enjoyed the 
feel of the fuck stick corkscrewing her cunt hole. She spread her hips, 
relaxing her butt muscles and concentrated on inching her cunt channel back 
on his fuck stick. His bristly pubic hair tickled her rump. And her wiggling 
hips were doing all the work, coming down on him instead of the other way 
around. It was like jamming a wrapper back on a wet popsicle, but feeling 
the throbbing shaft inside her was well worth the effort. 

"Hmmmmmm," she murmured lovingly. "Do it. Fuck me now. Fuck me hard!" 

Well, he was doing just that. His fuck stick was all wet and sticky from the 
juices flowing from her pussy. His foreskin was lubed and ready. And 
Margaret was one piece of ass that was hard to turn down. When she ground 
her hair pie against your groin and wagged those luscious hips back and 
forth squeezing and fondling and cajoling your cock to spurt away, well, it 
was hard to say no. 

But that's exactly what he did. In a sudden backward movement, his dick 
popped out of her hole. He looked down at his glistening shaft and saw the 
arteries pulsating with blood. He was thoroughly lubricated, but he wanted 
more action than her pussy. He wanted Margaret's tight asshole surrounding 
his pecker and that meant lots of grease wetting the skin. 

He reached for a plastic tub of raspberry jam just as Margaret started to 
gyrate. 

"Don't stop on me, you bastard," she demanded hoarsely. "You have me. I'm 
yours. Now fuck me. Damn it, fuck me. Fuck my cunt!" 

She closed her eyes and laid on the table waiting for his penis to fill her 
slot once more. What she felt was warm jam being spread around her asshole. 
She wondered for a minute what the hell Gordon was up to. Then his finger 
pushed against the sphincter muscle to drill a nice, pathway into her ass 
channel. And then she knew what Gordon was up to. 

"Ahhh!" she screamed. 

Gordon didn't wait for her to finish, but plowed a furrow through her 
cheeks. Her butt fought back, but even her tight asshole was no match for 
his jam coated penis. The muscle opened up and his long hot torpedo slid 
nicely into her rump. 

"Ghhhhaaa!" she cried. Her eyes were closed as streaks of pain and pleasure 
flashed like sparklers on a moonless night against the sky. Her hips erupted 
sending her belly banging on the table top. She felt his cock surging in and 
out, throbbing like a thumb smashed by a hammer, and she cried. 

Tears dribbled from her eyes and down her face. His thundering cock went in 
and out. Sweat mingled with her tears. Her whole backside was being forced 
and pushed around like a toy sailboat on rough seas. She was thoroughly 
humiliated. Every muscle in her body cried out for help. And there was none 
coming. His dick grew bigger and bigger. How her virgin butt could take so 
much cock with so little effort was beyond comprehension. He was such a 
bastard! Her hands balled into fists which she beat on the table like a 
spoiled child. 

Gordon of course didn't give two shits. His dick was swelled out to cannon 
size ready to explode. The woman's shrieking was lost on his ears. Her 
resistance had melted away like the raspberry jam used to lubricate her butt 
hole. She was soft and pliable, ready to be molded to his needs. 

His pecker went in. It slid in like a telephone post going into a greased 
hole in the ground. He was ready to come. But suddenly he got an idea. 

"Sherry," he shouted to the little girl on the floor. "Get the hell over 
here. Right now!" 

And she did. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Sherry was terribly sore between her legs. When she rose to her knees, a 
span of pain roared up through the tiny black slit that formed her twat and 
she had to sit down fast. 

Watching Gordon through the doorway as he forced his way into Margaret made 
the little girl feel queasy at the pit of her stomach. She was too young to 
know what Gordon was doing. But Margaret wasn't enjoying it. Even though she 
tingled all over her skinny body just watching Gordon. 

"Damn you child," he bellowed. "Move it." 

Obediently, she rose and ignoring the soreness, waddled over to the 
breakfast table. Sherry saw the broken dishes and the over turned butter and 
eggs on the table and knew her mother would raise hell. 

Margaret turned her tortured face to the side and stared at naked Sherry. 
What once had been envy was turned into pleasure. She had gotten used to the 
hard flesh rod zipping back and forth in her rear hole, tantalizing her. It 
felt good. Better than good; it was fantastic! 

"More," she groaned. "Give me more, darling. Stick it up my asshole. Stick 
it! Stick it in hard!" 

She didn't know what she was saying because his round cock was spiking her 
hole and making the puckered flesh scream with pleasure. She looked at 
Sherry with those big eyes of hers and her breasts started to burn. She 
wanted to hug the child like a mother. As the prick shaft stuck her butt, 
Margaret was wild to cuddle Sherry in her arms and let the girl suckle her 
swollen nipples. 

Sherry didn't know what Gordon wanted from her. He looked pretty busy 
fucking Mrs. Anson. Maybe she was supposed to watch and learn something. 
Certainly, she could pick up a few pointers. Because playing with yourself 
and getting laid once didn't really turn a woman into a lovemaking expert. 

"Come here, darling," Gordon groaned. His swollen balls were pumping up and 
down in his swollen scrotum. He was holding back his juice because ass 
fucking Margaret was a dream come true and he didn't want to stop just yet. 
He was riding the crest of an enormous wave; a giant wall of pleasure that 
was going to come crashing down any second. 

"On your knees," he moaned. 

Sherry quickly did as she was told. The pain in her snatch disappeared. As 
he motioned towards his leg, Sherry crawled underneath the inverted V of his 
legs. She saw his stout shaft jamming Margaret's spread butt cheeks. It 
didn't seem possible that a man could put his prick in that tiny hole. But 
Mrs. Anson was screaming out for him to fuck her asshole so, that's where he 
had to be. She felt spasms of pain in her butt, and wondered if Gordon was 
going to fuck her back in her butt too. 

"Hurry and suck," he groaned. Gordon tried to order Sherry, but he was 
panting too hard to get the words out. There were just a few precious 
seconds until his raw dick shot sperm into Margaret's reamed out asshole. 
Just a few seconds until it happened and he wanted Sherry's lovely mouth 
sucking him, but he couldn't talk. Weakly he pointed down to his groin. 

Sherry sat down on her heels looking up. Behind his pistoning cock hung the 
bloated scrotum. It looked like a miniature punching bag. It was covered 
with a forest of hair, hair that was now wet from fucking. 

She reached up and touched his manhood. His balls jumped a mile. 

"Ooooh, yes, darling," he said. "With your mouth." 

Then she understood. She opened her jaws until the muscles ached and rose up 
towards his balls. The smell of sex hung like a miasma between his legs. She 
found it difficult to breathe, yet on the little girl went until her mouth 
touched him. 

He was warm and hairy and sweaty. His balls were so big, she thought he 
might explode all over her mouth. Out came her tongue to lick his nuts. The 
tip barely touched his scrotum. Yet Gordon was screaming for her to lick him 
clean. He shouted wildly scaring the diffident girl who was amazed that a 
man's balls could get so big. 

"Ah! Ah!! " he moaned. Then frantically, he jammed her face against his 
crotch and her mouth opened magically. He felt her hot breath surrounding 
him, then her lips sealed tightly around the top of his wrinkled pouch and 
he laughed wildly. His balls were now swishing inside the 13 year old's 
juicy mouth while his pecker made mush out of Margaret's asshole. 

At the same instant Margaret's ass channel was contracting around the pecker 
stuck so defiantly inside it's tortured walls. Margaret was so surprised she 
couldn't talk. Her butt was like a second pussy squeezing and jerking on 
Gordon's cock, and it felt good as the muscle constrictions brought joy to 
her body. 

"Yaaaaaahoooo!"' she shouted out. Her hips were swaying back and forth, 
banging the table edge. He was thrusting forward, matching her stroke for 
stroke as his balls were so gently sucked by Sherry's mouth. 

Sperm shot out of his scrotum and through the long stem of his cock. It 
welled for an instant in the tip, swelling out until his thrusting prick 
came to a sudden halt in her sweltering asshole and then the long white 
strands of sperm shot into her hole. 

"Fucking A," he laughed. He jerked his hips, yahooing like a cowboy on a 
three day binge. Down below, Sherry mouth came down on his deflating sack. 
She watched the cannon sized cock go into Margaret's asshole, then froze for 
an instant. Suddenly Margaret was short stroking his cock. She used her hips 
like pistons to take inside. 

Sperm shot back through her butt and coated the inside of Margaret's ass 
cheeks. Sherry's mouth remained glued to the swollen balls rumbling on her 
tongue. With each thrust, her face was brought closer to the splayed cheeks 
of Margaret's butt. Sherry could smell the hot and heavy sex. Without 
realizing it her hand crept down to her crotch where a finger was creating a 
silent joy between her pussy folds. 

Suddenly, sperm spurted on Sherry's nose. At the same instant, Gordon drove 
his dick home taking Sherry's face with it "Hot damn," he yelled. Sherry's 
face was stuck in Margaret's rump, but Gordon didn't care. His dick was 
spurting juice like a fire hose. His sperm was going up her asshole and out 
her tonsils, or so it felt. He groaned and fell forward on Margaret's back. 

Sherry was over come. Her nose was crammed right against Gordon's pecker and 
Margaret's rump and she almost suffocated. Her little Angers stuck in her 
slot and as she pulled her mouth away from the deflated scrotum, leaving 
Gordon's nuts to droop down, heavy with exhaustion. 

For what seemed an eternity, the threesome lay collapsed in the kitchen. 
They made a panting sound like dogs after a fight. Or a football team after 
a hard, summer practice. The exhaustion came from a source deeper than 
physical fatigue. It was that level of exhaustion that borders on bliss, 
when the soul breaks free of the body and hovers like a ghost in the air. 

Margaret Anson was a mess. She sat dumbly on the floor, her back against the 
table leg and her thighs spread out wide in a V shape. The sporran of black 
pubic hair glistened and sweat trickled down her chest and belly. The fiery 
pain in her asshole was gone. She could still feel the sperm inside her 
rectum squishing around taking it's own sweet time to trickle out her butt. 
Flexing her rump helped. But Margaret would be feeling Gordon Wilson's seed 
for quite some time. 

The bastard, she gasped. She was thoroughly humiliated. He had striped her 
and treated her willing flesh cheaply. She felt like an animal that had been 
auctioned off; cattle that Gordon could knead, and play with and fuck when 
and if he wanted to. He's crazy, she thought looking his way quickly. He 
raped your asshole! Striped you and raped you and treated you like dirt. 

Sherry was sitting next to Margaret wondering what mommy would say. There 
were broken plates to explain not to mention the mess in the living room. 
She breathed deeply through her mouth and raising a tiny hand to her cheek, 
she felt the crusty white fluid that had dried on her skin. It was the juice 
that had shot out of Margaret Anson's butt and had splattered her face. She 
had to get up right away and wash her face clean. Sherry rose unsteadily and 
halfway up, her legs gave out. 

A pair of hands held her steady, and gaining her balance she finally stood. 

"Let me help you to the bathroom," said Gordon as if reading her mind. 

It was the very least he could do. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

He escorted the little girl into the bedroom, exhausted from his labors, 
feeling more than a little guilty. He had literally fucked himself into a 
corner. The girl was bound to talk. How could one expect a thirteen year old 
to be laid by the baseball coach then watch him corn hole the neighbor's 
wife and not say anything. 

He filled the tub with hot water and as the steamy vapor clouded the air, he 
wondered what lay in store for him. What was going through Sherry's mind 
right that moment as he picked her up under the arms and dropped her into 
the water? More importantly, what would Kate Jackson, the girl's mother 
think? It made him queasy to think of such dreadful things. Especially when 
his strength was returning to his muscles and he was feeling vibrant again. 

He looked at Sherry and smiled. She was really a jewel. Her cherubic smile 
made him feel excited. Her flawlessly white skin was turning salmon pink 
from the hot water. 

"Is it too hot?" he asked. 

Sherry giggled. The water was so hot she could hardly stand sitting in the 
porcelain tub. The heat made her feet tingle. It was a sensation that spread 
quickly through her flesh until her whole body felt the water's warm glow. 
She turned and looked at the enormous hose hanging down from Gordon's 
crotch. It looked much tamer soft than hard. Sliding forward, her cheeks 
squeaked against the tub bottom. She yelped because the water's heat 
thrilled her again. It was like sticking her finger into an electric socket. 

"Sorry to break in," said Margaret Anson. "But I just had to pee." 

She sauntered over to the commode and ungracefully squatted on the pot. 
There was no hiding the contempt she felt for the little girl. Sharing 
Gordon with another woman was bad enough. But taking back seat to a little 
girl made her mad. She squirmed on the seat, her eyes sparkling with evil as 
the urine swished into the bowl. 

"Want me to join you, Sherry?" 

Gordon shot her a disquieting look. That only infuriated Margaret. That 
cheap little bitch is going to get hers, Margaret thought. 

"I'll wash you," Margaret said. "I'll wash you like you have never been 
washed before." 

"Now . . . Margaret. . . take it easy." 

It was Gordon's voice. He turned away from the tub and approached Margaret. 
For a moment there was just the sound of Sherry splashing in the tub and 
Margaret's pee splashing in the cistern. As he came closer Margaret watched 
his pecker swinging side to side and wondered if it were possible for a man 
to have three erections in so short a time. 

He had a funny grin on his face and a strange look that both intimidated and 
electrified her. Quickly she tried to finish peeing. Because she had this 
feeling that Gordon was going to stick his big old finger up her cunt. Or do 
something equally delightful to her crotch. And it made Margaret shiver all 
over. 

Gordon had a few things in mind. But nothing like dear, shrewish Margaret 
had in mind. 

"Come here," he said hoarsely. 

Suddenly Margaret was suspended in air. It happened so fast that she had no 
time at all to scream. Gordon's hands scooped up her thighs and quickly 
wrapped her legs around his chest. His strength was overpowering. And she 
hadn't stopped peeing. Her stream of bright yellow water was jetting out her 
urethra and hitting him square in the chest. 

"Gordon!" 

Her pee wet his skin and bounced back on her crotch and thighs and streamed 
down the hard muscles of his abdomen before dripping down his legs and onto 
the floor. 

He only laughed at her embarrassment and gripped her closer. The woman 
shivered with a sort of strange delight. He was new at this sort of fun 
himself. But once he had watched an Australian girl pee on her friend and 
the reaction had been fantastic. 

"Ooooo nooooo!! ! " Margaret was miserable. She was embarrassed to tears. 
She felt like a little girl who hadn't been toilet trained. And there was 
nothing she could do to stop the stream of pee. Again Gordon had turned on 
her and found a way to humiliate her. 

"This is how you treat me," she stormed. "I'm not good enough to fuck in bed 
like a normal woman. Not any more. Ever since you found this jailbait to 
play nookie with." 

"Easy, Margaret," he said. The pee rinsed away his guilt. He held her firmly 
holding up her rump cheeks with his hands. His cock was flickering back to 
life and he could ass fuck Margaret again. Or use her cunt. But there were 
other things to experiment with. 

"You make me sick," Margaret snapped. "Yank me off the potty. Use my butt 
like a cunt. Nothing is beyond your grasp is it?" 

His answer came suddenly. Margaret was going down as quickly as she had come 
up. Her butt cheeks squatted down on the toilet with a plopping of flesh. 
The pee was still trickling out of her twat. like a garden hose spraying 
flowers. Finally she stopped. 

Gordon was still standing there, his pecker swollen out. She looked up. Her 
fury had burnt out. She felt even worse now. Because Gordon would never take 
her back. Unable to control her emotions, Margaret started to cry. It was 
all her fault that Gordon had left her for this little girl splashing water 
in the tub. If she had treated him right, this infatuation would never have 
happened. She wanted a second chance, oh, she wanted that desperately. But 
that was too much to ask. He would never give up this Sherry girl and she 
felt horrible. Margaret wanted to crawl into a ball and die. 

Gordon waited patiently for the crying jag to stop. His cock was thick and 
gnarled. It was slippery with juices. The light in the room glinted off the 
massive meat as he held his shaft out with two fingers. 

"Margaret," he said, his voice almost a whisper. 

She was crying into her hands and he whispered her name again. His voice was 
hoarse, the excitement hiding just behind the hoarseness. Suddenly her head 
rose out of her hands. Her crying stopped. And now she was facing him, her 
tear stained face, solemn and restrained. She wanted redemption. A second 
chance. It was so easy to read in the earnest look in her eyes and the 
partially split lips. 

"Here, honey." 

Pee shot out the end of his gnarled cock and splashed against her face. Her 
head snapped back from the explosion of urine. She almost came off the 
toilet seat. 

"Open your mouth," he shouted. It was crazy and wild and Gordon found 
himself laughing. The pee shot in a steady stream all over Margaret's face, 
coating her puffed, startled lips the way his cock had spermed her ass. He 
gripped his shaft with a full finger grip and began working his way back and 
forth across her body using his peeing cock like a painter might use a 
brush. 

"Aaaahhhhh!" Margaret shouted. 

She twisted away but not before she tasted his briny urine inside her mouth. 
It was awful, overwhelming; she felt repulsed and vaguely drawn to this 
unorthodox sex just as she had to sucking cock. It seemed anything to do 
with sex motivated Margaret. 

Quickly now, for his bladder was nearly deflated, Gordon lowered his aim and 
sprayed her tits. He carefully washed her nipples and then went lower until 
he was peeing on her gleaming twat. 

"Yessss!" he gasped. 

Margaret squeezed her thighs together and waited for him to finish before 
licking his pecker clean. His dong was soft as putty and licking the end 
brought a laugh to Gordon's lips. 

"Satisfied," Margaret laughed. She hadn't lost him after all. Rising from 
the pot, she felt again back in his graces. Margaret turned from him to the 
bath tub where a startled Sherry Jackson had watched the two grown ups. 

"Move over, Sherry," she said. "I'm coming in with you." 

She climbed in facing Sherry and slowly sank down into the steamy water. 
Lying back she scrunched down so Sherry's thighs draped over her and their 
rumps pressed against each other. Back in the house, Margaret kept a plastic 
dildo in the top drawer of the dresser. And pressed against Sherry as she 
was now, made Margaret wonder how the little tyke would react with that 
artificial cock jammed into her twat. 

Well, there's more than enough time to find out. She looked up at Sherry and 
placed a motherly arm around her neck. 

"We're going to become great friends," Margaret confided. "Just the three of 
us." 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Just the three of them. It was a joyous group that met clandestinely in 
Sherry's house to explore the most fiendish sort of sex play. 

Sherry was very grown up for her age. But one could only expect so much from 
a thirteen year old. At a tender age when girls still played with dolls, 
Sherry had the real thing. She was learning first hand all about life from a 
man who had been taught the more exotic forms of sexuality from a Chinese 
whore and then had invented a few forms of his own. 

Sherry was also the willing pupil of Margaret Anson, a woman who was 
infatuated with Gordon and secretly jealous of Sherry. It was the first time 
that she had experienced jealousy. Her life had been one big success story: 
high school cheerleader, college beauty queen, successful fashion model-all 
positions Margaret had filled so capably. Now a teenage brat-a friend of her 
own daughter yet-was stealing the attention of the man she loved. It was an 
unsettling experience, one that made Margaret mad. 

She vowed secretly to get even. 

Gordon Wilson was supremely confident with the two females. Inside Sherry's 
house, he locked the doors and drew the window shades. He walked about the 
living room, striped naked, ordering the girls to go into one sexual 
position after another. He was arrogant and commanding in his manner. And he 
resembled the lion tamer at the circus in the way he snapped commands. 

But beneath this veneer of authority was another Gordon Wilson. He was so 
overwhelmed and frightened by what he'd done to Sherry that he needed 
sleeping pills at night to stop the nightmares. He knew it was all his 
fault. From the moment he had caught her masturbating at the little league 
game, he realized his mistake. If he had scolded Sherry, then that would 
have been the end of it. 

But he didn't. Thrilled by his encounter, Gordon had ended up playing with 
her butt and little sex slit until she had become a regular little 
nymphomaniac. 

That was terrible. But Margaret was thrown into the mess. Now there was the 
two girls. And while Sherry was perfectly content, Margaret was something 
else. Gordon was no genius. But he didn't exactly need a map to get around 
the city. He knew a few things. And Margaret's jealousy was so evident and 
so potentially dangerous that Gordon decided to stop it once and for all. 

"Come here, Sherry," he said. "And bring the vaseline." 

Margaret was standing nude by the bookcase smoking a cigarette. She was more 
beautiful than ever. Her shoulders sloped down, giving a fuller dimension to 
her satiny smooth breasts. Her belly was flat and the muscles were pinched 
at the waist before curving out into her firm, sensuous thighs. The small 
triangle of pubic hair hid the red gash of her twat. Her nipples were 
swollen to thumb size. And there was no hiding the desire that sputtered 
beneath that haughty, sullen exterior. 

Sherry quickly returned with the vaseline. She was equally beautiful though 
in a different way. Her breasts could not compete with Margaret's. But there 
was an innocence about Sherry, a open eye wonderment that inflamed Gordon 
passion. Perhaps, because this wonderment was a fleeting beauty that 
sputtered to life briefly in childhood only to-be extinguished forever by 
puberty. Gordon didn't push the reasons behind his obsession. 

He wanted to fuck this little girl. He was honest enough to admit the truth 
to himself. That was all that mattered to him. Not good or bad or anything 
else. He wiggled his fuck stick into her tunnel and stirred it around and 
love the way it clasped his cock. 

"Why does Sherry always come first," snapped Margaret. She was peeved. She 
was more demanding and selfish than any child. 

As Gordon opened the vaseline jar, he looked up at Margaret's angry face and 
smiled. With two fingers he dug out a thick batch of goo and gently worked 
the viscous substance into the folds of her cunt. He had fucked that tiny 
hole many times and how amazing it was that her cunt was still tight and 
firm. Her pussy clamped against his finger. 

"Hmmmmmm!" she giggled. 

She always moaned or groaned when her cunt was being fingered. The voice was 
high and squeaky and when he penetrated those tight lips of her slit, the 
pitch jumped an octave. Damn, how nice she was. 

He wanted to slide into her soppy, tight hole right up to his balls. His 
dick inflated out like a hot dog. He wanted to fuck the shit out of her. He 
wanted to jab his prick up her cunt until the circumcised head lodged in her 
throat and shot sperm through her nostrils. 

When she was greasy with vaseline he finished. Her crotch was a smear of 
glistening transparent film. As he picked her up, licking her nipples gently 
until his tongue coated them with spit and made the ends tighten and throb. 

Margaret watched, the anger boiling up, ready to explode. She watched Sherry 
begin to squat down on Gordon's prone body. She wanted to vomit. Never had 
one woman hated another so fully as Margaret hated Sherry. The filthy tramp, 
thought Margaret. She couldn't wait to get her hands on Sherry's ripe, 
skinny body. Margaret smiled. She'd make the little bitch bend over then ram 
a branding rod up her asshole! 

But right that instant, Margaret could only watch helplessly as Sherry's 
tight twat inched down closer to Gordon's straight up erection. 

Slowly she came closer until his cigar shaped cock touched her pussy. Sherry 
closed her eyes and tightened her lips. Lower she came. The head slipped in, 
pushing the fleshy pussy lips aside as he penetrated. Suddenly Gordon's 
hands were up holding the child's buttocks firmly. 

"Squat," he commanded. 

Sherry did as she was told. She bit her lip until a droplet of blood popped 
from the skin. Tears suffused her eyes. He was penetrating, oh, he was 
inside her. Inch by inch her cunt sleeve opened up to his cock. Warm, wet 
flesh, pink with blood, tense with excitement gripped his penis. She 
squirmed around the rigid rod forcing the contraction to hurry up. She was 
almost there. With Gordon's encouragement, she went the last few inches 
until finally he was inside completely. 

"That's a good little girl," he said. Expertly he cupped her rump cheeks in 
his hands and once again guiding her up and down on his fuck pole. The 
vaseline made a popping sound as Sherry rose and fell. She looked. 

Her scrawny body going up and down, coupled with the sounds of grease and 
flesh making contact with each other was a strange sight: Sherry looked like 
she was riding a teeter totter, except of course for the fleshy spike driven 
into her cunt sleeve. 

Gordon bent his head. He was panting hard. His back arched like a bow. He 
wanted to suck Sherry's tits. Those pudgy knobs held his fascination. If he 
could only suck the soft flesh and tease those swollen red ends, then 
everything would be all right. But he couldn't reach her, and Gordon had to 
deny himself. Besides, the fucking was much too nice. And Sherry thought so 
too! 

"Oh, oh, oh, ahhhhh!" she gasped. Her voice was halfway between a giggle and 
a scream. Sherry was still learning what an orgasm was. Excitement for 
little girls rarely went beyond ice cream cones, and birthday presents and 
perhaps a wild ride on a roller coaster. The thrill of sex was different, 
unexplainable. She wasn't aware of her giggling. Her cunt juices were oozing 
down on his fuck pole making him slick and slippery. She was pumping her 
thighs, making her hips go like pistons. It was beautiful to watch; motion 
set to poetry. 

It was except for Margaret. She was so hot to fuck that her cunt itched 
terribly. The pain had begun between the cheeks of her butt and spread like 
wild fire to her twat. 

She dipped two fingers into her fur pie and scratched. The hair was all 
saturated with her lubricants. Margaret rubbed with both hands. She watched 
desperately as Gordon's swollen red cock disappeared into Sherry's twat. 
Even across the room, she could see the lacing of blue veins bulging through 
the foreskin. As he impaled the teeny bopper with his prick, Margaret 
started masturbating in earnest. Her nails dug into the tiny clit button 
hidden away under the labia. The flicking nails caused sparks to erupt 
suddenly. She grunted once, then squatted down, driving her nails in again 
and again against the sensitive skin. "Ah! Ohhhhh! Ya!! " she shouted. 

"Look at that!" Gordon exclaimed. Sherry's butt came up and down with jack 
hammer force. The sperm was swelling in his balls. There was no denying his 
desire to shoot his load into her ripe, little cunny. But Margaret was 
jacking off and that was wonderful to watch. And to taste too! 

Margaret could get even with Gordon. All she had to do was stand there and 
masturbate. But as her fingers strained her cunt hole to the point of no 
return, she couldn't resist him. She knew what Gordon had in mind. That 
tongue could work wonders on her pubes. 

So she waddled over, her fingers continuing to zing pleasure up her twat, 
and then in position, Margaret squatted down over his face. 

She first felt his tongue go into her snatch. It was good and warm and raspy 
like a wood file against her cunny. She wanted to scream. But there was 
another treat in store for her. Because she felt something squirming in her 
rectum. 

"Oooooohh!" she said. She was so startled that she knelt rock still above 
his face. Sherry was going crazy at the other end, using her cunt as a soft 
glove to jerk off his pecker. Margaret was up at his face. And she had a 
hard, stiff pecker rammed up her hole-her asshole! "What did you do dear!" 
she asked. 

"I put a finger in too," he grinned. 

Wiggling her fanny, Margaret discovered he was right. "That's awful," she 
said impishly. "Nice men don't do that." 

But Gordon wasn't a nice man. He was a horny man. A very horny man and his 
pecker was about to explode inside the channel of a thirteen year-old tramp. 
And Margaret didn't have the time to sit back and enjoy his finger doing 
that awful thing to her butt. Because when Gordon shot his load, he wasn't 
going to feel like playing games with Margaret. 

Damn that brat, snorted Margaret. She rubbed her ripe red slit back and 
forth on the outstretched tongue, twisting around so the tongue acted like a 
poker. 

With a finger gliding into her butt hole and the nice soft tongue jabbing 
her cunt, Margaret was in a state of bliss. She hunched so both fuck tools 
reamed her guts. The anger dissipated for the time being. She could even 
watch Sherry cavorting on Gordon's cock without going into hysterics. 
Suddenly the inflamed prick erupted and the poor little girl nearly shot off 
like a cork out of a pressurized bottle. Thick long tendrils of sperm 
sprayed back through the tiny pocket of her cunt and slid down his dick. 
Margaret gasped. For at that second, his finger was joined to her backsides. 
Margaret watched helplessly as Gordon's body went into contractions. The 
long slender muscles of his belly tightened into knots as his hips drove the 
long, spurting cock into Sherry's cunt. 

It was violent and raw. The little girl was thrown around like a fishing 
bobber on turbulent seas. She was wiggling and squirming and her tiny cunt 
was shuddering as jolt after jolt of passion struck home. The girl's eyes 
were snapped shut and Margaret's eyes were glued to her pouty, inflamed 
nipples that jiggled like jell-o. She felt a deep throbbing in her own 
breasts. She wanted to reach across and lick Sherry's nipples and make her 
feel the excitement that only one woman can give another. But she didn't 
because her rectum clamped down hard on Gordon's finger. It took only a 
second. But Gordon's finger drove into her gaping asshole with such force 
that it revitalized her frantic need to be fucked. Even if it was her 
asshole and not her cunt that was being fucked. 

"Ohmigod!" Margaret screamed in surprise. She was impaled on the end of his 
finger spear. She humped up and down and drove the finger against her tender 
flesh. Her butt hole tried sucking on the finger like two big lips. Then 
something triggered her cunt hole and Margaret was in the throes of her very 
own orgasm. 

"Aaaahhhhh!! ! " she gasped. Grinding down hard and harder, she took in his 
plunging digit. That the hot splatter of come was not going to pour into her 
asshole, did not deter Margaret. She bent over Gordon's belly and found 
Sherry's nipples with her mouth. The two wet lips found the hard, red 
buttons of flesh. Her tongue lashed out teasing the flesh, while her teeth 
tenderly clamped down on the jutting ends. Held firmly now, she licked and 
sucked on Sherry's breast riding out each wonderful spasm of pleasure 
surging up her asshole with a faster, wilder breast sucking. 

Sherry screamed again. Her tiny cunt was coming again and again and now even 
her tits were on fire. The thick juice, thick as hot latex lined her pussy. 
She felt burned out inside even as she climaxed frantically with her 
convulsing lover. 

"I don't ever want to stop," she cried. "Not ever." 

And if Gordon and Margaret had their way, she wouldn't. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

Margaret's heart was beating like mad by the time she got to Sherry's house. 
And it wasn't from walking fast either. She felt guilty about what she was 
going to do to Sherry. But Margaret didn't have any choice. 

Margaret was dressed casually and she carried a small grocery bag. To a 
passerby, she looked like just one more suburban housewife on her way to 
visit a friend. Or perhaps bearing a gift. 

But Margaret was hardly the average housewife. For one thing, her cunt had 
been continually wet since meeting Gordon. A second did not go by when she 
did not think of his massive cock plowing into her portholes. 

But recently, her daydreams had taken on a different configuration. Sherry 
had entered the picture. And though Margaret had learned to tolerate Sherry, 
sex was still not the same thing it used to be. She was jealous of the 
younger woman. Jealous and scared. Because Gordon was paying a lot more 
attention to the teenie bopper than to her. 

Margaret decided to take action into her own hands. 

Standing outside the ramshackle two story house, balling her fists to ease 
the tension that racked her body, Margaret had misgivings. She had a right 
to be upset. But after all Sherry was only a child. It was one thing to 
punish Sherry for encroaching on her territory. Her man. But what Margaret 
had in mind was . . . well, drastic. 

Maybe Sherry isn't home, Margaret thought. Then the door opened, and then 
the small blonde-haired girl appeared, her familiar, angelic face beaming 
incandescently back at Margaret. And she laughed to herself. Because 
Margaret realized she was capable of everything. 

"Did you want some coffee, Mrs. Jackson?" Sherry asked. It was a surprise 
seeing her so early. Sherry half expected Gordon and her heart was still 
pounding like a hammer inside her chest. Now the excitement had turned to 
fear. 

Mrs. Jackson was a big woman and without Gordon there to protect her, Sherry 
felt weak and helpless. And Mrs. Jackson was not the friendly type. Her tiny 
breast still ached from Margaret's mouth. A small red splotch had appeared 
around the nipple and didn't go away for several days. 

Since Gordon had stuck his big cock into her tiny hole and made her a woman, 
Sherry was not the same little girl. And Margaret was not the nice, 
neighborly woman she had been. Perhaps Margaret was jealous of sharing 
Gordon. But that was silly because Sherry didn't mind sharing him with 
another woman. She didn't mind in the least bit. 

Out in the kitchen, Sherry rinsed out a coffee mug and dumped in a heaping 
spoonful of instant coffee while the water came to a boil. Steam swirled up 
as the dark powder turned black as ebony wood when the water was added. 

When she took the steaming mug into the living room though, Sherry had a 
surprise coming. 

"Put the mug down on the table, Sherry," Margaret said, her voice was harsh 
and grating. And her eyes stared down like burning coals. 

They looked at each other and Sherry felt a curious weakness in her crotch. 
The tiny blonde hairs, just beginning to darken on her twat tingled. She was 
all wet and loose all of a sudden and if Margaret had been Gordon, there was 
no doubt that he could have stuck his big, hairy thing up her crack with 
ease. 

"Are you frightened of me?" asked Margaret. In the girl's absence Margaret 
had locked all the doors and drawn the shades in the living room. Not that 
this precaution was necessary. The girl was half in shock. She was not going 
to run anywhere on those quivering, rubbery legs. 

Margaret stared at her and the blood rose in her face. She was suddenly 
nervous as a virgin going to a drive-in movie. She wasn't deceiving herself 
anymore. Margaret wasn't to violate the girl. If she had been blessed with a 
cock at birth, Margaret would have bent that quivering, pitiful blonde tramp 
over and rammed her dick between those lovely, sweet cheeks and up her 
asshole. That's what she wanted more than anything else in the world. 

Margaret didn't have a cock. 

And then again she did in a way. 

She smiled at Sherry, the spider to the fly, and walked up close so her 
crotch pressed against Sherry's breasts. With little movement, she could 
unzip her fly and push the girl's face into her crotch cunt. 

Margaret's pelt was wet and drippy all over from the sexual excitement 
tingling in her loins. Sherry's mouth would feel fantastic down there 
licking and sucking. How pleasant it would be, to have her groveling like a 
common whore. Her tongue darting into her red rimmed slit. How nice! And it 
would be free too! 

"Gordon is coming soon," said Sherry weakly. It was a mistake and one she 
regreted the minute the words tumbled from her lips. 

"It's a hot day," Margaret began. "Why don't you take off your . . . dress!" 

Sherry shook her head in disbelief. Suddenly her nipples were pulsating and 
her breathing labored. 

"But. . . why would," she stammered. 

Margaret felt testy. "Do as your told," she snapped. "Get those clothes the 
hell off. All except your panties." 

Quickly Sherry's hands found the buttons to her school top and in several 
quick movements, her clothes lay at her feet. A cool gust of air sent her 
warm, wet skin tingling with goose bumps. They dimpled her belly, spreading 
quickly until her abdomen was covered. It was embarrassing for Sherry and 
she crossed her arms awkwardly in front of her breasts. 

"Don't hide yourself," Margaret snapped. The uneasy smile crossing her lips 
drew tight as the muscles bunched on either side of her jaw. "Be a woman," 
she snapped. "Don't play school girl with me." 

Instinct told Sherry to get out of the house, even if it meant running 
outside without her clothes. Margaret was acting very strange. Her drawn 
lips trembled as she lowered her gaze. It was as if Sherry had ceased to be 
a human being. When Margaret advanced closer, her lips were only inches 
away, Sherry shuddered. Quickly she turned her head away from Margaret's 
eyes, away from breasts heaving under her blouse. 

"Don't be afraid," Margaret whispered. Already she was reaching for the 
zippers and snaps that held her clothes so tightly against her supremely 
shaped body. Margaret was breathing heavily, almost panting. She was capable 
of anything. She was a gifted, finely educated player in the game of love. 
She experienced the joy of penetration both in the cunt, mouth and rectum 
and was expert at using herself. She was an instrument of love, a 
wonderfully complicated organism capable of the most complicated of sexual 
intrigues. And now, with Sherry present she was going to indulge her 
sensibilities. 

"Do not be afraid," she announced once more. 

"Oh, Margaret," Sherry sputtered. "I mean Mrs. Anson. Don't you think we 
should wait for Gordon?" 

She looked around frantically. Anything to avoid Margaret's hypnotic stare. 
"I could do the dishes." 

She turned quickly for the sink, but a strong, powerful hand touched her 
shoulder. The palm was moist with sweat and very, very warm. It sent another 
shower of goose bumps rippling like wheat before the wind across her slender 
buttocks. 

Margaret, sensing the time was right, stepped close to Sherry, thrusting as 
she moved, so her loins rubbed up against the girl's small twat. 

"Gordon will be coming shortly," she answered. Gently she pulled Sherry 
around forcing the teenage girl to stare into her eyes. 

Suddenly, she bent forward and pressed her drawn lips against Sherry's neck. 
She kissed hard and firm using lips, tongue and teeth to suck on the 
straining flesh. 

Oh, she was good! Margaret could hardly believe her good fortune. She was 
overcome with passion. Her heart pounded swelling her chest with the deep 
rapturous stirring of joy. Her hard nipples pressed against Sherry's pudgy 
undeveloped tits. Her bush was stuck against Sherry's crack; they were 
connected these two women at the cunt, tits and face. It was a powerful 
embrace for both of them and when Margaret's lips left Sherry's neck it was 
with a great sucking sound. 

"I must show you something," Margaret said. Her pendant breasts heaved. She 
turned the curious child around then stooped for her burlap purse on the 
floor. 

Sherry tenderly rubbed the red weal forming on her neck and wondered how she 
could get away. True, her nipples pulsated, the stirring of hot, red blood 
gorging the pink areolas. But what did Margaret desire from her. She was 
confused. Her puny cunt was no match for Gordon's trunk-like penis. It 
didn't even have hair covering the slit opening. She squirmed nervously 
while Margaret, muttering to herself, reached into her purse. 

"Where the fuck is . . . " she said. 

In the few moments that transpired, Sherry could have made a break for it. 
That she did not was her own fault. Perhaps, she did not want to leave. 
Curiosity tugged. She was so confused by Margaret. By the way her own body 
responded to stimulation. By the fact that she was just thirteen years old 
and knew so very little about the world. 

With knowledge comes pain. An old aphorism learned in school came back to 
her. Wisdom is not given, it is learned. And learned painfully. Perhaps, it 
was the quest for wisdom, the seeking out of the unknown that kept Sherry in 
the house while Margaret went about looking for whatever it was in the 
purse. 

"At last," Margaret said, rising up. She turned around to Sherry, her drawn 
face now beaming with a devilish smile. Her breasts were the color of a 
lobster, the ends now glowing like coals. Her eyes once again made the 
forbidden journey from Sherry's down Sherry's scrawny body. The pudgy 
breasts, the thin hips, the soft, hairless cunt-all were examined carefully 
by eyes as sharp for detail as any diamond cutter's. 

Sherry found her gaze painful and looked away. The white, cylindrical object 
caught her eye. It rose from Margaret's clutching hand like a tent stake 
except much thicker and longer. Around the grip, the baton had ridges for 
secure holding. At the tip, however, the surface was smooth and white. like 
a whale's tooth she had once seen in a museum. 

"What is that," Sherry asked. 

The question was met with a sudden, ferocious outburst of laughter. 
Margaret's body jerked violently, her mouth gapping now, a huge black void 
cut into the middle of her distorted face. 

"I forget, darling, that you know nothing," she said. 

"Are you going to . . . hit me?" Sherry asked. 

The older woman only smiled this time. It was going to be more fun than 
first expected. She tightened her grip on the plastic dildo. It was hard and 
firm. The best dildo money could buy. She rolled the handle, feeling her 
cunt suddenly spasm. A Japanese salesman, an old friend of her husband had 
brought the dildo over from Tokyo. She had made some passing remark about 
Oriental sex devices and was surprised that he had remembered her. She 
wasn't too keen on the Jap anyway; his lovemaking technique was quite 
formal, almost ritualistic, and unsatisfactory. His foreplay was brief and 
unconvincing and the penetration itself was entirely too short. He had been 
hardly worth her time, especially since there were so many red blooded, 
macho Americans who could satisfy her wants. 

But he did have the dildo. And if his lovemaking was not up to snuff, the 
mechanical prick more than fit the bill. He showed her where the batteries 
went, and how to work the tip into her cunt, so the juices flowed all around 
the conical shaped tip. Juices that would aid in penetration. 

His instructions bordered on the obsessive especially the fittings. He made 
Margaret squat down while he penetrated her cunt and then slowly rise up 
taking ten deep breaths before turning on the dildo. She was about to tell 
the slimy Jap to stick his fucking plastic cock up his own hole when he 
reached between her legs and hit the switch. Immediately, her whole body was 
turned to the consistency of butter. Electricity zinged up and down her 
spine, and through her vagina and breasts and out her pee hole and her 
shitter in great galloping jolts of passion. She instantly forgot about the 
WOG's sexual inadequacies and immediately fell in love with his plastic love 
tool. 

It was the same tool she was about to use on Sherry. She was going to give 
this young girl, this nymphet, this bubbly little Lolita a taste of hard, 
jolting sex. A taste that would linger on the end of her tongue, not to 
mention the sweaty walls of her vagina for sometime. Perhaps for ever! 

I'll 

"It will not hurt," Margaret said with assurance. The girl was frightened. 
She could see that advancing now, moving the baton back and forth like a 
street fighter working a switch blade. Scared, but curious. For why else 
would she stay on. Margaret's thinking was distorted by the wild passion 
spilling over her iron wall of self-control. But if the girl was scared she 
would have left. 

"What are you going to do?" Sherry asked. 

Margaret moved within an inch of Sherry. "Put your hands against the back of 
the chair," she insisted. 

"What?" 

Margaret brought the baton down to the tip of Sherry's nose. 

"Do as I instruct," she said. 

With great reluctance, Sherry turned and with both hands, leaned against the 
chair. Behind her, she heard Margaret moving about. 

"What is that?" she asked. 

"Vaseline." 

The fear, held back as if by a mental dam, suddenly burst forth. She spun 
around, trying to move away, feeling Margaret's firm hand against her thigh, 
feeling the pain of those strong fingers holding her fast and she screamed. 

"Don't hurt me," she begged. "Oh, please don't." 

Her voice was filled with dread and fear. And her wish fell on deaf ears. 

With terrible swiftness, Margaret was behind Sherry. Her fingers slid up the 
trembling legs, up to the girls ripe, moist cunt. Sherry arched her rump 
outwards, and Margaret, sensing the moment was right, slid a finger into the 
girl's cunt. "Nooooo!! ! " 

It was the cry of a lonely, frightened girl. The cry that a child makes when 
lost. A terrifying sound really; the sound of despair, of passion turned 
inward, of unrequited love. 

Margaret chose that moment to pry open the girl's cunt and jam the plastic 
dildo tip up inside the womb. 

"There!" Margaret insisted. Overwhelmed with the moment, she could not 
resist rubbing her wet, excited pussy up against Sherry's leg. The sensation 
was euphoric. Her rigid clitoris rung like a bell clapper. It made her so 
fucking hot, she nearly had an orgasm right there in the living room. With 
the dildo only inches inside the child's tender pussy. 

"Aaaaaaahhhh!! ! " 

The surge of pain was replaced by the throb of desire. Sherry writhed and 
wriggled, her cunt a great, seeping orifice. Margaret worked the mechanical 
fuck stick up the girl's tight, but quickly softening quim with quick, 
darting motions. The smell seeping out with each stab of the cock brought 
tears to Margaret's eye. It had the musky, sweet fragrance of old leather 
books left in an attic closet. 

"Bend at the waist," Margaret ordered. 

She did. And her rump parted open allowing Margaret to drive the baton into 
the crux of the "V" formed by the girl's action. 

"You know what comes next, don't you, Sherry?" 

The little girl, now helpless as a wounded rodent in the clutches of a hawk, 
nodded meekly. Her thighs shivered as the driving shaft widened her fuck 
hole. Sherry felt so humiliated. It was like the enemas she received as a 
young girl; the discomforting sensation of having something mechanical 
forced into her body. It was just awful. And this baton was much bigger than 
an enema hose. It felt big around as Gordon's wrist, a huge plastic sausage 
that caused not pleasure, but merely sensation. Awareness that a big, 
lifeless object being shoved rhythmically in and out of that, tiny most 
precious slit between her thighs. 

"It will hurt at first," Margaret was saying. But her admonishments fell on 
deaf ears. Sherry would have none of it. If she couldn't stop Margaret, then 
damn if she would give the old woman the time of day. She would finish soon 
enough and then Sherry could put her clothes on and leave. She would tell 
Gordon. But later. Right then, she wanted to control her shaking thighs, and 
bite on her lower lip to stop her jaw from trembling. 

She snapped her eyes shut and bore up under the humiliation. Margaret was 
panting like a dog in heat. Her hand worked the evil stick into the socket 
made between her legs. Finally, when she could hold back not another second, 
Margaret leaned forward and said in a husky voice: "Now, my darling you will 
learn the full joys of this beautiful martial aid. 

Her finger found the button and pressed down. And a thousand volts of 
electricity went shooting out the end and into Sherry's hot, defiant twat. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

The first shrieking scream, pitched high enough to shatter a wine glass 
brought out the neighbors on Elm Wood Street. 

"What's that, Harry?" said a tiny woman, her hair rolled in curlers. 

"I don't know," her husband answered. "It's scary." 

The couple was joined by a second neighbor. He was an old fireman, an 
unhappy sort who lived two doors down from Margaret. 

"Jesus, that was enough to wake the dead," he snapped. His bowed legs, the 
result of an on-the-job accident moved slowly and with great difficulty. 
"Sounds like they're skinning a nigger." 

The woman with curlers sniffed arrogantly. The fireman, a dyed in the wool 
racist was a bothersome man, one she could do without. 

"Sush, Mr. Youngman," she said. "We need none of that." 

"Yup," Youngman giggled. "But whoever did the shrieking is in a hell of a 
lot of pain." 

There was no denying that assumption. And they stood outside for several 
minutes trying to learn who made that hideous, scary noise. 

They waited several minutes, but heard nothing. The screaming was not 
repeated. The wind blew through the elm trees, birds chirped as they winged 
through the air and peace and equanimity reigned. It was as if nothing had 
happened. As if the scream was a product of fantasy, not fact. 

"Well, fuck this," Youngman said. "I got better things to do than to wait 
around here." He started hobbling away, his legs jiggling about, threatening 
to walk away at the knees at any time. 

"If you want my two cents worth, I still think it was a nigger doing the 
hooting." 

"Harry, come on," said the woman, grabbing her husband's arm. "I don't want 
to listen to the-likes of him." 

Together, they walked back to the house, the woman with hair curlers 
bitching about the neighborhood going to hell. 

Inside the house, Margaret watched the street through a slit in the 
curtains. She breathed a sigh of relief when the neighbors returned to their 
homes. Quickly, she closed the curtains and slumped down into the sofa. 

At her feet, lay an exhausted, dazzled young teenager. She lay curled up in 
a ball sucking her thumb. Between her thighs lay the plastic cock. 

Margaret's face was drained of color. Her heart pounded with fright. She 
looked down at the child, her satiny skin drenched with sweat and wondered 
what had possessed her, Margaret Anson, to inflict torture upon this young 
thing. 

She wanted revenge, but the dildo was overdoing it. Margaret placed a 
guiding hand between the girl's clenched knees and gently spread her thighs 
open. The artificial cock was still buried deep inside Sherry's fuck hole. 

You are insane, Margaret thought. Only a mad woman would do what you did. 

She reached down and gripped the ridged dildo hand. It was stuck inside her 
hole, and Margaret had to tug to get the damn contraption out of her. 

"Noooooo!" Sherry gasped. She tried weakly to resist, but her energy was 
spent. Out came the cock with a popping sound. Margaret held up the infernal 
device, now all wet and sticky from Sherry's seeping cunt, and wondered why 
she had got the girl interested in the first place. 

She would never forget Sherry's face, how it had crinkled up like a prune, 
her cheeks livid with pain and horror. 

"Love my dickie, darling," Margaret had said. "Want to feel it work magic up 
in your hole." 

Sherry response, that magnificent scream had sent her recoiling against the 
sofa. It had scared the piss out of Margaret. For one terrible instant, she 
thought the girl had died. Her ears were still ringing. 

Luckily, she had managed to stop her from further screaming by stuffing the 
girl's mouth with socks. God, it was just awful watching her squirm and 
undulate around the floor, the enormous cock zinging electric shocks to her 
cunt. But at least she had stopped the screaming. That was impossible to 
stand. 

Now sweat glistened on her heaving belly, a shining coat of lubricant, a 
salty reminder of her bodily needs, a liquidy, wonderful stuff. 

She was indeed a gorgeous girl this Sherry. Even now, drained of energy she 
was beautiful to the eye, her body lying repose, perfect as a Greek 
sculpture. 

Margaret, beside herself, bent over the exhausted youngster and touched her 
sweaty brow. 

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," Margaret said. She was repentant. And now looking 
down at the girl's loins, Margaret was reminded of her own youth. How bad 
she had been. A regular hellcat. After discovering her first man at age 
twelve, nobody could keep her away from boys. Her daddy had beaten her more 
times than she cared to remember for letting boys get into her pants. So 
Margaret had sympathy for Sherry. After all, the girl was only a punk kid 
trying to learn the hard facts of life. 

"Did it hurt?" she asked. 

Sherry managed to raise her head. Her tongue lolled out the side of her 
mouth. Her stomach felt weak as if sagging under an enormous weight. She 
looked up at Margaret, her eyes focusing on the older woman and said in her 
tiny voice: "What was that?" 

Margaret held up the white phallus. "A toy, dear. A very wonderful gift that 
a man once gave me." 

Sherry whistled. The cock had been buried up to the hilt in her twat. Her 
hot flesh had surrounded that "toy" as Margaret so coyly called the dildo 
and she had felt the charge in her womb. A toy, hell; it had the bite of a 
rattlesnake. 

She had never orgasmed so fast in all her life. Pent up fear drained through 
her channel as the cock thundered in. Her vagina spread open, her womb 
surged with joy. If she left for a convent that moment and never experienced 
sex again except for occasional masturbation, Sherry knew she would have 
wonderful moments to reflect upon. 

"Soooo nice," she gasped. "It was very nice." 

Gordon had still not returned and it was growing dark outside. Margaret was 
playing cards to pass the time. But she had a hard time keeping her mind off 
sex. The dildo was safely back inside her pocket book. But still she dreamed 
of the machine's awesome power surging into her body. 

"Why didn't you try the dildo?" asked Sherry, an impish smile spreading 
across her face. 

The girl was not only bright, she could also read minds. 

"No, I can wait," Margaret said. "I can wait for Gordon to return." 

There was an awkward pause as Sherry rose to her feet. She stammered at 
first, then looking Margaret straight in the eye, the little tyke said: "I 
bet Gordon would get upset if I told him what you did." 

"And what do you mean by that remark?" 

The beaming expression plastered all over Sherry's face told Margaret all 
she needed to know. 

Why that little bitch is blackmailing me, Margaret thought. She placed the 
cards down on the arm chair. Sherry was sitting across from her on the sfoa. 
In two steps she could have her hands around the girl's throat. Margaret 
felt the blood pulsate in her neck. In two steps she could have the dildo 
once more in her hands. And this time she would teach her a real lesson. One 
not so quickly accepted as the first. 

Sherry was not bothered. She sat oblivious to Margaret's sudden anger, her 
bright eyes shining like exquisite jewels. 

"Oh, you could hurt me again," said Sherry. "But where would that get you? 
And what would Gordon think?" 

Gordon was the pivotal point around which Sherry's argument was based. 
Everything was dependent upon him. She had felt for herself the sweet, 
violent thrust of his prick inside her womb. Margaret didn't want to lose 
him. And Sherry knew that. 

"I won't tell," Sherry promised. "If you give me the plastic cock." 

"Impudent little bitch!" shouted Margaret. In blinding speed, she was out of 
the chair and across the room. Her hand came down with bone jarring voice 
catching Sherry across the cheek. 

Sherry was off the couch in an instant. She started to cry. 

"Now nothing will stop me," she whimpered. "I'll tell everything." 

She started for the door, but Margaret caught her by the arm. 

"Now listen," Margaret said hastily. "No reason to get mad. I'm sorry about 
hitting you." 

Now it was Sherry's turn. Rearing back, she drove her fist hard into 
Margaret's soft gut. The blow caught the big woman unaware and the sucker 
punch bent Margaret in half. 

I did it! Sherry thought. I really did it! She was so amazed at her power, 
at the say so she had in controlling her destiny, that Sherry wanted to jump 
up and down screaming for joy. Margaret was groaning, holding her belly 
hobbling around like the helpless, frail woman that she was. 

She went for the purse and grabbed the dildo. The round plastic handle felt 
secure in her hand. Quickly now before Margaret had regained full strength, 
Sherry dove forward. She hit Margaret behind the knees and both women went 
tumbling. 

"Won't tell!" Sherry shouted, trying frantically to ram the cock into 
Margaret's cunt. "Won't tell! You better goddamn well do as I say if you 
still want Gordon as your boyfriend." 

She rolled the dildo in her hand. "Now turn over," Sherry said. "I'm going 
to turn the table on you. 

And she started pushing the plastic cock up between Margaret's butt cheeks. 
Up to her pink little asshole. 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Margaret lay exhausted. A black ball of pain grew in her belly. She squatted 
down on the rug, her head on her thigh, feeling the beastly dildo darting at 
her bunghole. 

She did not know what had possessed the girl. Margaret was worn out, limp, 
though she still had the energy to say: "Get away from me, you little 
tramp!" 

Margaret raised up and looked back. Sherry was rubbing juice from her cunt 
onto the plastic cock. 

The little girl said, "I'm itching to know how this invention really works." 

Margaret told her, "Sherry, don't play with things you know nothing about." 

Sherry shrugged. "I didn't mean to really hit you so hard. It just happened. 
You made me very angry." 

Playfully, she took the cock and jabbed Margaret bunghole. The dildo shot 
between her cheeks and hit the sphincter. Margaret yelped and jumped 
forward. 

Then Sherry laid the pipe on the coffee table and drew close to Margaret's 
rump. Her soft blue eyes dazed down into her crease with all the innocence 
of a child staring into a wishing well. Margaret, feeling guilty, slumped 
forward and buried her head into her arms. She began to sob uncontrollably. 

Sherry looked hurt. She had meant to upset Mrs. Anson, even if the older 
woman desired it. 

"I'm sorry," she said, staring down at her parted thighs. But saying sorry 
wasn't enough. Sherry had to prove her contriteness. She reached for 
Margaret's butt cheeks and parting them, she pushed forward and licked the 
woman's asshole. 

"Hmmmmm!" Margaret gasped. 

Sherry continued licking, not minding the taste really, but not too excited 
by licking the woman's asshole. It was just something that had to be done. 

Finally, she lifted her head and grinned. "Feel better, Mrs. Anson?" 

Margaret grinned. She turned on her thigh and revealed her hairy pussy to 
the girl's twinkling eyes. Through the pubic foilage, the pink sliver of 
clitoris was visible. 

"While we wait for Gordon," she said, pulling Sherry closer. "I want to show 
you something." 

She took the girl's hand and pressed her fingers against her own clitoris. 
The flared, excited digit swelled up like a spike. 

Speechless, Sherry bent down and licked Margaret with her tongue. 

"Ohhhhh!" Margaret gasped. She rolled her head back and forth, her mouth 
lolled open. When she recovered, which took several moments, Margaret felt 
happy. 

"That feels so wonderful," she exclaimed. "Would you like to see for 
yourself, Sherry?" 

The little girl nodded her head. 

Margaret said, "In fact, I think you need it. Cunt-lapping isn't everything. 
But it's a good place to begin. Especially between two women." 

Margaret could not speak, but gazing down at her own crotch, she felt a 
livening in her belly, a squishy pulsing. 

like the mouth of her love hole was doing the fish-lip sucks, blinking and 
wiggling for her undivided attention. 

Margaret knelt between the girl's tender thighs. 

Sherry, still gazing, raised her hips up to Margaret's mouth. Gingerly, the 
older woman began to lick. Back and forth went her tongue. The raspy surface 
cleaned away the moisture and gently worked through the tight lips down to 
the clitoris. 

Sherry felt a cuntal wrench, like a hard swallow, and with that she groaned. 
"Goood, Mrs. Anson. So very gooood!" 

Margaret dipped her head and with a sudden thrust, drove her tongue tip hard 
against the tiny clitoris. 

In with a swish, into a channel so tight and juicy that there was nothing to 
make her hesitate, just sliding along her groove until her tongue circled 
the tiny clitoris and Margaret, feeling her first hot throb, drove harder 
and licked longer, using her tongue as a cock. 

Sherry jackknifed off the floor. Her hips twisted violently, her head 
rolling side to side and as her twat humped up and down to the beat set by 
Margaret's tantalizing tongue. 

The little girl had strength in her legs then, she lifted them and hooked 
her ankles around Margaret's back. 

She began humping, groaning as she squeezed her gaping pussy at Margaret's 
face, and pulled her twat through long, milking squeezes. 

Sherry cried, "You're sizzling in there, Mrs. Anson!" 

Margaret just laughed. Raising her head, she said, "Just hump, darling. Fuck 
with your hips." 

Margaret returned to her choirs, burying her face into the tender fruit of 
Sherry's loins. The clitoris rose up straight as a miniature carrot and she 
licked it hard then soft then hard again. 

She wouldn't stop, not for anything. Sherry's hips rabbit fucked, then the 
girl screamed, begging Margaret to stop. 

"Not now," Margaret said, lapping the young, swelled up pussy. "Not till I'm 
goddam good and ready to." Driving harder, she penetrated the tender quim. 

Her hands, wanting grips to control the cavorting hips, found Sherry's rump 
cheeks. Eagerly, she knead the flesh, grabbing both buns and holding on. 

"Hurrrrry!" Sherry gasped. 

Margaret felt a wave of guilt just then. Here she was eating out a girl 
young enough to be her daughter. It was disgusting. 

Oh, it was shameful, this unspeakable act, she holding onto a girl's rump 
while sucking her clitoris. And Sherry driving a dildo up Margaret's 
backsides. 

Sherry's openness, her gushing vaginal fluids, they were animalistic, like 
her grunts of feral pleasure! 

Margaret raised her head and replaced her tongue with a finger. 

"Hump me," she cried, driving the finger into Sherry's slit like a 
screwdriver into a screw slot. "Fuck with your hips. I want you to come. To 
come right this instant!" 

Sherry replied fiercely with a pounding of her hips. She pounded away until 
it came, the explosion of blood and passion, a hot bloating that made her 
vagina feel as big as a football, then a shrinking down, a total collapse of 
passion and energy. 

The spasm of heat blinded Sherry and she guessed that for a second she had 
passed out. 

"Ooooooo!" she groaned. A second pleasure wave, like a giant 20-footer 
pounding the Hawaii coastline swept her up. Sherry had no choice, but to go 
with the force. The surf the wave, this pleasure wave, as it crashed on the 
white beaches of her crotch. 

Margaret was moaning too. Margaret heated herself for using the dildo on 
Sherry. It was a coarse, thoughtless act. 

"Fuck more! You're coming again," Margaret said. She felt the dollops of hot 
pussy juice on her fingers as she drove a nice, clean hole through Sherry's 
crotch. 

You did a bad thing, Margaret thought, and you must be punished. For 
Sherry's sake. To show her that there is a right and wrong in this world. 

Sherry's fucking became more violent. Hot stuff was running from her cunt 
down her ass. It was like jism, only it was coming from her twat. Again and 
again the little girl climaxed. 

And Margaret was right there, using her finger, coaxing Sherry on, causing 
climax after climax. 

While she thought of a proper punishment for herself. 

 CHAPTER TWELVE 

Gordon Wilson drove home, tired and exhausted from lovemaking and the guilt 
that went along with cheating on his wife Jackie. Someday he would get the 
nerve and ask for a divorce. Their marriage was in ruins. Jackie had to be a 
moron not to suspect his infidelity. They hardly made love anymore. 

He walked into his house and yelled. She responded, her voice coming from 
upstairs in the bathroom. His shoes creaked on the wood stairs that led to 
the second floor. 

"Oh, there you are," he san?. 

His wife looked up. A bewildered and dazed Jackie was in the bathroom 
squatting on the John, slipping the nozzle of her douche up her vagina. 

She squeezed the bulb. Warm water washed out her vagina. 

She had slept for hours. Awakening, finding her husband gone once again, she 
had wondered around the house naked wondering what to do. 

I feel so dirty, she thought. And then got the idea to wash herself both 
inside and out. 

"Is that all you have time for," Gordon snarled, angry at his wife. "Washing 
your cunt." 

Washed clean, she rose, put the douche in the medicine cabinet and ignoring 
her husband gazed at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were hooded, smiling at 
their secrets. Her lower lip, pink and moist, pouted provocatively. She got 
a comb and whipped it through her hair until it fluffed, a tawniness with 
sunshine in it, and there was a high color in her cheeks. You look so 
pretty, Jackie, she thought. 

"Goddamn it answer me!" Gordon snapped. He put a hand on her shoulder and 
spun his wife around. Her secret, taunting smile couldn't hide her 
voluptuousness. She was ravishing, her slim hips and pendulous breasts 
creating a vision of perfection. The pouting smile did not leave her face. 
She didn't ignore her husband, nor try to fight him. She stood there, strong 
and confident waiting for him to release her so she could attend to herself. 

"Why is it, Gordon that you pay more interest to your baseball team than to 
me?" she asked. 

"Oh, shit here we go again," he snapped. 

Her gaze fell down to his pants. She was surprised to see his cock was erect 
again. She felt a longing, buried desire to feel him entering her cunt. It 
was momentary, however, and she looked again into his cruel face. 

"Do you find the girls more appealing than me, your own wife?" 

Gordon exploded. His blood, boiling hot now bubbled over. His hand came 
around slapping his wife squarely on the chin, knocking her down to the 
floor. 

Jackie's head was reeling. She touched her chin with two fingers, blinked 
her eyes and looked up at her husband. There was no fear in her gaze, only 
an inquisitiveness. A smile appeared briefly on her lips. 

"A little young, aren't they?" she said. "Little league, let's see you have 
to be all of thirteen to play." 

Gordon raised his hand back again, but Doris didn't move, he dropped his 
hand. Suddenly, the weight of the world descended upon his shoulders. His 
head was dizzy and he slumped against the door frame, his head bowed down at 
his wife. 

Several seconds passed before he spoke. 

"You knew from the start," he said. 

She nodded. Jackie suppressed a smile, a gesture that would have given away 
her deep satisfaction at once again establishing contact with her husband. 

"I suspected from the beginning," she said. "When we stopped fucking. I knew 
there was somebody else." 

Damn, what a fool I've been, Gordon thought. He looked at his wife who 
fingered her bare tittie, milking out the nipple, and his pecker got hard as 
a steel rod. 

He wanted his wife badly. All changed! His wife looked now as she had the 
first day of their marriage. His mind wallowed in passion, the thought of 
driving his cock deep into her pussy, feeling her hips buckle as she went 
screaming into an orgasm. 

He tugged at his pants, freeing his cock. His breath labored, his hands 
trembled as he peeled off his trousers and underwear. 

"Bend over," he grunted. 

Doris was almost as surprised as her husband. Months had gone by without any 
lovemaking. Now this, right here in the bathroom. She was more than willing 
to please her husband anything he wanted. Her asshole was just as soft and 
seductive as her mouth and cunt. They were passion wells ready to be dipped 
into. But doubt lingered; why did he want her now. 

She had to find out. 

'Turn over," he croaked again. 

But she did not. She purred like a cat and looked up with great liquidy, 
bedroom eyes. But she did not move. 

"Tell me one good reason," she said. 

A hand reached under her thigh and flipped her over as casually as a cat 
might lash out at a fly. 

"Because I told you to!" he exclaimed. 

She felt his hands caressing her sloping buttocks, moving between her 
quivering thighs, kneading her pussy, now squeaky clean from douching. She 
gasped out loud. His hand found her snatch, a finger penetrated and she 
groaned, her slit filled with pleasing, tantalizing warmth. 

"Ooooohhh!" she grasped. He quickly moved up her torso. Hands and knees 
holding his weight, he mounded her cunt from the rear. His curved fuck 
stick, red as a beet slipped through the velvet halls of her thighs and 
found the slit of puckered cunt flesh. Laughing, for he always laughed when 
he burrowed into her womb, Gordon slipped down, his hands grasping her 
pendant breasts. Now he was in the saddle, hunching and rocking, his dick 
stuck in like a knife into butter. 

"Good isn't it," he said. Even in the bathroom, she was good. His mind was 
washed clean of the filthy, kinky business that he had indulged himself in. 
Riding her cunt was therapy; he didn't need Sherry or Margaret now. Later, 
perhaps at some other time. But not right now. 

Jackie wiggled her hips, holding herself up as long as possible. The dick 
rammed so nicely in her slot, seemed to grow. It had been so long that the 
experience of fucking her husband was brand new. Suddenly, her belly 
spasmed, the muscles fighting the hard, thick invader. She moved, found the 
bestial cock still growing, and started to fuck. 

Fuck hard. Very hard. 

Back and forth they rocked. Two love birds joined at the crotch, Gordon was 
slipping in and out, the clean flesh of her freshly douched pussy squeaking 
as juice flooded down from her womb. Back and forth, nice and easy, as if 
they had all day. 

But Doris didn't have all day. The position was difficult, but she was 
getting used to the straining of her back muscles. It felt joyous. Just so 
he kept driving his cock into her socket. Driving, and humping, his pecker 
rutting a trail through her womanhood. 

"Ready!" he gasped. His tight lipped smile hardened into a grimace. Sperm 
churned white hot in his crotch. 

Jackie wiggled her ass-cheeks, feeling the hot warmth of his crotch against 
her buns. He was so big and strong. She felt helpless. Her muscles were all 
sweaty and weak. Only an inner determination kept her going. 

It seemed like hours had passed. She was too weak to cry out, too exhausted 
to tell her husband that, no, she was ready, that coming was out of the 
question. 

And then just as he surged forward, her body seemed to light up. Groaning, 
she collapsed under his pulsating cock. He continued to hunch away going 
deeper and deeper as he finally could hold back no longer. 

"AAAAIIIIEEE!! ! " he gasped. Warm, thick sperm shot out the end of his cock 
into her cauldron-like pussy. It filled her pocket size cunt and dribbled 
out with each dick jerk onto her thighs. 

Suddenly, his wailing voice was joined by his wife's. 

"Oh! Ohh! Ohhh!! ! " she gasped. His phallus was moving in tiny jerks. 
Cuntal lips seemed to reach out for it. The instrument tilted, quivered, 
advanced as though pushing into a second cunt. 

She was sucking it in! And loving it. Loving all of it. 

"AAAAIIIIEEEE!! ! ! " she gasped. "OHHHHH DARLINGGG!! ! " 

 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

The woodpecker was twittering outside the window and a wealth of new blooms 
had colored the flower garden. Margaret closed the back door and returned to 
the living room. 

Where was Gordon? she thought. 

Sherry was slunk down into the couch, a hand to her twat. It was still 
showing the after effects of their savage lovemaking. Margaret came over and 
sat down next to the girl, legs spread. Her hair-fringed split glistened 
with vaginal dew, and the mouth had opened exposing pink flesh beneath. 

Sherry leaned across Margaret and kissed an exposed nipple. Margaret sighed, 
patting the girl on the head. She thought, Margaret there you sit with your 
legs spread, this young thing kissing you and you feel no shame. Why don't 
you feel guilty. 

She turned and tried to see Sherry as Gordon might. She examined the girl's 
naked pubes, small but smartly curved rump and her flat chest. Once she had 
looked this way, but no man had ever touched her, much less fucked her cunt! 

Goodness, did I miss out! 

Sherry rolled her legs and stared at Margaret's hairy crotch. She felt a 
spasm in her rear end. Margaret's twat looked juicy. It was slightly 
puckered from penetration and staring wide-eyed at it, she decided to 
experiment. 

She crawled down into Margaret's lap and searched for the swelled clitoris 
with her tongue. For some minutes she searched and then, her tongue came in 
contact with a salty tasting noodle of skin about half an inch long and she 
knew that was it. 

Margaret was panting. On fire. The girl's tongue began its insane, unheard 
licking and sucking and she had to groan. Ribbons of fire grew out of her 
belly, running up to her breasts where her nipples swelled up. 

OHHHHHHHHH!! ! ! ! 

Sherry heard the cry and ignored it. The way Margaret was squirming about on 
the sofa made pussy eating all that much more enjoyable. Suddenly, 
Margaret's hips rose up, taking Sherry's licking mouth with it. Up and up 
the two went until Margaret, her back, bent like a bow, began driving her 
cunt against Sherry's licking tongue. 

The cum broke with a burst like a wave crashing on a beach, and Margaret's 
moans of pleasure silenced the grandfather's clock bonging the hour in the 
next room. 

It was pure bliss. Sherry was nearly exhausted when she finally lifted her 
face. Margaret smiled, shaped a kiss for Sherry while staring down at her 
small, nub-like nipples, watching her rubbing her twat. A small girl with a 
new toy. 

She had to do something for Sherry. She gazed smilingly at the girl, 
reaching for her heart shaped cunt, but said nothing. Margaret brought her 
face down to Sherry's and tongue-kissed her so deeply and excitingly that 
Sherry's hips cavorted on the sofa. It was only the beginning for these two. 

No words, just sucking Sherry's tongue while her finger warmed the girl's 
groove was enough communication. Sherry's nipples swelled up and Margaret 
was quick to caress the tiny red ends. 

Margaret felt no shame. Not with the dildo, not now as she stroked and 
fondled the girl. A girl old enough to be her own daughter. What impulse led 
her to such extremes remained a mystery. Sex seemed to be driving her to all 
sorts of extremes. 

As Margaret caressed she thought, "Well, kiddo, if you're a lesbian then you 
just are lesbian, drift with it, and goodness what big, plump lips Sherry 
has, how terribly exciting to squeeze and press and tug playfully at them! 

She felt Sherry wiggling around like an eel. The girl was turned on. 
Perhaps, it was time for the dildo again. That electric charge could satisfy 
a sexual appetite as nothing else could. 

"Raise a leg, darling wood nymph," Margaret heard herself saying. "I'm going 
to lap your pussy." 

Gape-mouthed with astonishment-Margaret was acting so nice!-Sherry obeyed. 
Her cunt was so hot, so fucking hot, that she could barely stand it. Then 
Margaret brought her lips down again on her tush and Sherry groaned, her 
mind reeling as if caught up in a dream. 

The wet suction, a hundred times more voluptuous than a fondling finger, 
bloated Sherry's tiny clitoris. It filled the older woman's mouth. 

Margaret groaned deep in her throat and eased her sweating, excited body up 
on Sherry's. Wiggling into position, she dropped her pubes down on Sherry's 
open, waiting mouth. The hot, wet tongue greeted her loins with a tasty 
lick. 

Now both women were in the sixty-nine position, rolling and licking and 
eating each other. Dyking it up, sharing and receiving sex, enjoying the 
goodness of womanhood. 

Ohhh! A cry from her parched throat, startled Margaret. Ohhh, she's trying 
to eat my entire vulva, hairy lips and all. 

Desperately she struggled for the plastic cock. She had left the damned 
thing on the coffee table. Her fingers reached out, and found the ridged 
plastic handle. She brought the tool back between Sherry's legs. Before 
Margaret's eyes loomed the great gleaming mound of Sherry's cunt. 

She watched, then brought her tongue down again on the hairless crease, the 
raspy surface moving back and forth against her groove. Sherry, convulsing 
with pleasure, drove her tongue as deep as it would go into Margaret's furry 
muff. 

Yaaaaaaaa!! 

A leg cocked up and she saw the mound, the target of her desires. She wanted 
to eat and lick and suck and never quit. Never! 

She clutched the dildo like a knife. The gleaming conical head pointed 
downward. Slowly Margaret brought the point down her breasts, across her 
fluttering stomach, down to the gleaming mound of womanhood. 

Carefully, she worked the tool in and out. The head went in easier, now that 
her vulva was stretched out. From eating and fucking. 

She palmed the satiny inner thigh with her free hand, brushed the hair out 
of her eyes. Sherry was driving into her hole. She buckled at the waist. 
Hurry! she told herself. She wiggled, feeling the orgasm building, and 
realized she had to work fast. The odor from Sherry's cunt made her quiver 
all over. She licked her lips and gazed at her wanton hole. 

Sherry's hole, a round wet red mouth, took in the dildo. 

Nearer, into the musky heat, she drove the cock. Sherry's whole body spasmed 
and down between her legs, the flesh quivered. The girl moaned, and the 
vibrations tingled Margaret's twat. 

Ooooooo! Do it! Do it now, thought Margaret. 

In went the dildo. The shaft sliced into Sherry's tiny pie, spreading the 
lips back, exposing raw, blood soaked meat. In and out went the cock, a 
gleaming white missile contrasting with puckered cunt flesh. Margaret was 
half out of her mind. Her pussy was overcast with a rosy hue now, and she 
knew a cum was right there, oh yes, exploding as she drove the dagger-dick 
in up to the hilt and turned on the juice. 

I am what I am, she thought as Sherry's mouth pulled from her cunt and 
issued a horrifying scream. I'm a cunt-lapping, child abusing lesbian with a 
cum shooting sparks and firing off roman candles, gushing juices. I love it! 
I'll never stop. 

Margaret was dead serious. 

 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

Neither girl heard Gordon and his wife entering the house. They were too 
busy with each other. Then the door slammed shut and Margaret turned around 
to watch Gordon enter the living room. 

"Holy cow!" he gasped. 

The dildo was going up and down like an oil pumper. Sherry was screwed up 
tight on the couch, her eyes shut, low moaning sounds emanating from her 
mouth. 

The dildo looked enormous. It rose like a stake from her crotch. 

Gordon's wife, Jackie followed her husband into the living room. At first, 
she couldn't believe the raw, sex going on the sofa. It seemed like a dream. 

But it was no dream. She gazed at the cylinder of flesh protruding from 
Sherry's cunt, at the huge swollen twat puckered around it and turned her 
head, astonished. 

"I'm going to be sick," she bleated. 

She drove her head into Gordon's chest. Calm down, she told herself. Nothing 
can stop it. But why has Gordon brought me here? 

She felt sick at the pit of her stomach, the same way she felt that day 
Gordon had forced her to suck him. 

He had held her against the wall, her body brutally striped, and his cock 
coming towards her mouth. She had fought, turning away but nothing stopped 
his cock. He rubbed his member around her face, across her lips before 
starting to undulate. Finally, he forced himself into her mouth. 

It's done, she said to herself. You have a mouthful of cock. Suck it gently. 
Oh, it isn't so bad. The texture is rubbery, strange tasting. It feels 
almost good slipping in and out. 

She ended up enjoying it. Even the climax, when slippery juice squirted down 
her throat, Jackie found pleasing. Now she found herself hiding her face. 
Because two women, coupled together in a loving embrace was more than she 
could stomach. 

"So this is what you wanted me to see," she cried. 

Well, not exactly. 

But Gordon couldn't stop what he had put into motion. The dildo churning in 
Sherry's cunt was a surprise. His intentions were much more innocent; he 
wanted to have his wife, Sherry and Margaret all together, naked as jay 
birds, sucking and eating and fucking him. 

But he hadn't counted on Margaret and Sherry forming their own love nest. 

Gordon thought for a minute. Something had to be done quickly if he were to 
salvage the day. Moving towards Sherry, he slapped Margaret across the face. 
His hand found the plunging dildo and pulled it from Sherry's snatch. 

"Ohhhhhh noooo!" Sherry gasped. 

"Sit up," commanded Gordon. 

Sherry sat up, a hurt, hungry expression smeared across her dripping lips. 
Her cheeks, flushed with excitement, told all. 

She did not question Gordon. She only wanted to return to cunt lapping 
Margaret. She wondered if she could peel back those pussy lips and drill 
home her tongue. 

Suddenly, Gordon was slipping from his cloths. His enormous cock stood 
straight out holding the girls attention. He turned to his wife, now staring 
at her husband, and said, "Join me, Jackie. Join me this once and I'll do 
anything you ask of me." 

Jackie thought her husband was crazy. If she ran away, she would still have 
to deal with him. And if she joined, then goodness, anything could happen. 

Caught in this interesting quandary, Jackie suddenly was forced into action. 
Forced that is because Margaret was moving the dildo towards her husband. 
And the teenager was moving towards his cock. 

"Don't you dare!" she shouted. 

Sherry was eager to get back to work. She wanted a man's cock right then. 
She wanted to hear the popping sound as the prick head cleared her lips. She 
wanted the taste of hard meat, the taste of bare pecker slippery and hot and 
huge. 

She cried out with delight. "The four of us!" she gasped. "The four of us 
all together!" 

Quickly Jackie joined in. She crouched down on the sofa, and left Sherry's 
tiny hand rest on her furry pelt. It felt odd having another woman touch 
her. Odd and yet very good too. Tears suffused her eyes, but turning back 
was out of the question. She wanted her husband, she wanted sex and joy and 
happiness. And her pussy was terribly hot. Choking back the tears, she 
wiggled down to her husband's crotch and found his pecker, hard and 
flickering. She touched him with two fingers, guided the enormous head to 
her lips. Gently she took him inside. 

"That's a baby!" Gordon gasped. 

He reached down, his fingers searching for a woman's genitals, and found 
what he wanted. The furry warm pelt surrounding Margaret's pussy. Gently, he 
fingered her cunt. 

Sherry came from behind and tried guiding the plastic cock up Gordon's 
asshole, but he pushed her away. Sherry, however, was not going to be 
stopped. 

She watched Gordon's wife frantically sucking cock, and decided her asshole 
would be as good as Gordon's. Perhaps, more so. Sherry wiggled into 
position, found Jackie's hunches pumping furiously and with a movement 
inched the cock up her hole. 

"Get out of there!" Jackie shouted. 

Her cry was met by a twinge of panic. It roared through her butt, ached 
quickly, then gave way as her asshole pushed out to accommodate the plastic 
dick. 

"I'm doing this for my husband," she groaned out loud. "Only for him." 

Margaret didn't give two fucks what this intruder was doing. She didn't 
care. Her skin was bathed in sweat and her body hungered for sex. The sex, 
soft and luscious that only a woman's tender mouth was capable of producing. 

Jackie's head bobbed into view and that was all Margaret needed. She reached 
out for Jackie's free hand, found it forced it to her humping back. 

"Up there," Margaret ordered. "Put it up there." 

She angled her split rump toward the free hand. Jackie got the message. Her 
mouth, filled with stiff cock, her asshole now filled with dildo had a 
tantalizing effect. 

She felt herself giving in, Jackie did. She was trembling all over. With a 
groan she gave in, let her hands go out and reach for Margaret's pubes. She 
ventured out from the safety of her own body going to Margaret, reaching, 
hoping and, yes, lusting to touch another woman. Even as her own slot was 
being stuffed with sex, even as her sphincter was being spread apart by a 
monstrous cock, even then, she reached for more. 

It was just like a woman to want more than she could handle. 

As her cunt spasmed, and her asshole tugged on the rod, Jackie made contact. 
In went her fingers. She grasped hold of Margaret and finger-fucked her 
slot. So they were finally all joined together like one, big happy family. 

Fingers and cocks and dildoes and lips, attached to cunts and asshole-all 
together, one big happy family. 

They rocked and fondled, drinking and smelling each other's juices for 
orgasm after orgasm. And when they were finished, the world seemed 
different. At least the outside did. 

They had been fucking for almost six straight hours. And all were on the 
very brink of exhaustion. 

 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

At a few minutes past midnight, Sherry staggered up from the couch. God, she 
was tired. Her body never hurt so much in her whole life. All thirteen years 
of it. 

She slid off the couch, and on her knees she gazed into the spread of 
Jackie's legs at her hair-edged red slit. Sherry was becoming very familiar 
with a woman's private parts. But still she could not resist. 

Winding her arms around the sleek firmness of the girl's thighs, she 
approached slowly, breathing deeply of the hot juices, licking the hairless, 
satiny thigh flesh to each side, aiming at Jackie's bulging red clit. 

Behind her, the TV set still made incoherent noises. For some strange 
reason, Gordon had wanted to watch the baseball game and despite objections 
from everyone else, had turned on the tube. He was fast asleep, but the TV 
still blared. 

To her left was the stairway up from the first floor. She ignored it, 
however, for Sherry was not ready for bed. 

She instead dove into Jackie's crotch, her tongue flicking. She found the 
tiny morsel of erectile flesh and latched on. 

It swelled under the tongue lash, and Jackie cried out. Swabbing it slowly, 
bending it, pushing, Sherry made sure the woman would have no second 
thoughts. She pressed puckered lips to the nub, softly sucked it in, and 
when she had it, pulled from side to side. 

"Wow!" Jackie gasped. "I'll cum. You'll make me cum, Sherry!" 

Sure of herself now, Sherry smiled and licked it as she said, "Then, you'll 
want to turn about, Jackie. You want to suck my big clit, won't you, 
darling?" 

"No-o!" Jackie cried. It was a selfish motive, but Jackie didn't want to 
move. She wanted to lay back and let this little urchin with the tantalizing 
mouth to suck on her clitoris forever. But nothing was ever that simple. 

Sherry smiled, sent her tongue slithering down the groove between the 
jellied inner labia, licked the rim of Jackie's vagina, and then for her own 
pleasure slid her tongue up it and sucked, sucked, drawing even the outer 
lips into her mouth. Jackie went wild. 

She was thrashing about, her hips jerking. Glancing up, Sherry saw her grab 
her own titties and pull, wrench them rough the nipples. 

You hot cunt! 

Jackie was ecstatic. And so was Sherry. In five minutes you'll be sucking my 
clit, darling, oh yes you will! 

"My cum, oh I'm cumming, Sherry, lap me, suck my cunt, please lap and suck 
my cunt!" 

Sherry almost strangled on the juices spilling down her throat. But she got 
all the juice down and did as Jackie said to. 

At last, she stopped sucking, swallowed, rose to the fiercely swollen clit, 
licked and lipped it as the girl writhed and shrieked through the orgasm. 

But there were other things going around her. 

She heard voices. That of Gordon and Margaret. 

Sherry looked on the left over the supine, body of Jackie and saw Gordon, 
his enormous cock stuck down Margaret's throat. His eyes were bulging at the 
spectacle; he was getting off on it. 

My ass is in a sling, she thought. Because he sees me lapping his old lady's 
cunt. But why not. She's just laying there, just sprawled on the couch 
letting me eat her. 

Gordon, sorry, but I couldn't resist. It tastes delicious. You should never 
have turned me on to sex. This is all your fault. I want your cock. I'll 
always want your cock. But I can get along nicely without a man. I have 
found a woman's body as pleasurable as any man's. 

Jackie finally slumped down, her voice now only a raspy whisper, a shadow of 
its former self. "This," she moaned, "is the happiest day of my life." 

 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

She had heard that roar before, that wounded bull, that bear charging out of 
his cave. 

Gordon appeared to leap from her. One of his big, hairy hands swept past her 
face and grabbed hold of Jackie. Suddenly, he was groping her, hands gliding 
and moving into everywhere. 

From everywhere people came flying toward the pair of naked bodies, women 
with tits leaping, a dozen hands thrusting into the tangle, hands clawing 
and clutching. It was an orgy, a spontaneous happening with sex being the 
catalyst. 

Sherry jerked upright, knowing she must help but with no idea what was going 
on, except that inside her cunt pulsing gushes continued. 

Maybe I should have left Jackie alone, she thought. 

This has to be a dream Sherry thought. It must be. I'm dreaming. 

But this was no dream. This was war. 

A sex war. A fucking nightmare war. 

Sherry jumped into the middle of things. The sex urge grabbed her strongly 
and took hold of her senses like a wave takes command of a rudderless ship. 

Sherry ran after Gordon. She wanted to stop him. She wanted to pull Jackie 
away and suck on his cock. 

She pulled on his shoulder. Gordon was holding his wife by the cooze, 
staring her straight in the eye. He said, "I'm not letting go, baby. Feel my 
finger. It must be a foot up your cunt. I ain't stopping until I feel you 
cum against my finger. 

With that he jammed his hand up her crotch, and Jackie screamed. 

Sherry, feeling it was all or nothing, attacked. She dug her fingers into 
Gordon's back and raked the muscles. Long, bloody streaks followed. 

Suddenly, Gordon spun around and with his free hand grabbed Sherry. 

His face looked chalky in the light, like he was going to be sick to his 
stomach. 

Sherry said, "Gordon, I want you. I want your cock right this instant. I 
can't wait. I want you. I need you." 

He was staring bug-eyed at the little nympho. His mouth worked. No words 
came out. 

"Say something!" Sherry shouted. 

At last he rose shakily to his feet and went, legs wobbling, out of the 
living room. Sherry watched as did Jackie, both women were astonished by 
Gordon's erratic behavior. Astonished beyond words. 

Gordon returned and said, "I went to piss. My balls were aching like a 
son-of-a-bitch. So I pissed all my troubles away." 

Sherry inspected his cock. 

It wagged like a dogs tail, the circumcised head dripping like a small 
faucet. 

Tears blinded Sherry as she went to his side. Why was he acting so 
indifferent. Take a pee. Christ, he had his wife, his thirteen year-old girl 
friend and his wife, all naked, all yearning for his sex and he said fuck it 
and took a piss. 

Men! They are so impossible. 

Sherry heard the other murmuring. She turned and stared straight at Jackie. 
Sherry sensed the older women's jealousy. She could feel Jackie's eyes 
gazing, burning like coals. 

Sherry turned her head. Her cunt was hot for action. Yet Gordon was not 
turned on. She could tell. Suddenly the girl took a deep breath and decided 
to try the dildo. Perhaps, he would come back around later. 

She went to the bathroom and found the dildo where it had been left. Then 
she came back to the living room and sat against the chair. For some reason, 
it was important to have an orgasm in front of the group. She held the cock 
in front of her and stared down at her cunt. She could see the livid line of 
her split, the slight ovaling of her vaginal mouth. Only a few minutes ago 
she had been having the time of her life. Now this, this infernal machine. 

Maybe Gordon would take the cock away from her and use his. It was a 
thought, but she doubted that would happen. 

He must be feeling terribly turned on, she thought, working the dildo tip 
into her slit. She jacked her legs up, and wiggled her rump. She paused, the 
gadget in her hand, gazing at herself. In a few months, round tits would be 
hanging from her flat chest, and curly pubic hair would cover her snatch. 
Her glistening coral slit looked so wide, from the flared notch where her 
clit, limp now, dangled, down the crinkled inner labia to her hole. 

Jesus, I must be dreaming again, she gasped. Her eyes snapped open. 

Her cunt was beat up. It was firm and tight and wonderful. It sucked the 
dildo, squeezing on the plastic surface, coming down like a vice. 

The cock hurt going up inside her channel. It hurt like hell, but Sherry 
continued working the tool deep into her pussy just the same. 

How big will I get, she thought. Will I have a snatch like Margaret. All 
soft and hairy with a crimson, bleeding line for a slit. Will that be me? 

Up, deeper into her slit went the dildo. It moved quickly up her hole, 
disappearing into her slit. 

She began to wiggle, feeling that big fuck stick starting to click inside 
her crotch. She dropped her legs. Now she closed them hugging the gizmo 
within. Of her pussy she now saw only her plump mound and the dimple where 
her thighs meet it. She thought, really, it looks much prettier tucked 
inside me. My skin is beautiful, so clear and smooth. It's much better than 
hair. 

Still she wanted a pelt, a furry rug covering her twat. 

The cock was rocking wildly now as she squatted down, and, oh, a flush 
colored her cheek, spread down over her swollen breasts. like a cum 
beginning! 

Then she heard a voice from the darkness. A voice that said, "Look at what 
Sherry is doing!" 

Her heart leaped. Dearest Gordon! "Oh, darling." 

Her eyes snapped opened and she was staring at Gordon. He was smiling, 
wearing her pink panties on his head and smirking like a grade schooler. 

"I think she's flipped out," he said. "Look at her. Look at her using that 
cock!" 

She reached out with her free hand, but he backed away. Suddenly, the 
panties disappeared, as he reached out for Sherry's breasts. 

His hand found the breast, small and tight and his thumb fondled the round 
nub at the end. "Sherry, are you all right," he said. "You look crazy as 
hell." 

Was she all right? She was fucking fantastic. Gordon was caressing her 
nipples again while the enormous dick throbbing in her belly. She felt hot 
and good all over, especially her throbbing clit being dinged by the dildo. 
Suddenly, Gordon's tongue was parting her lips slipping into her mouth, like 
a limber cock, darting here and there! 

She slipped a hand down his chest, found his flat belly and the tuft of 
curly pubic hair. For a moment her entire being existed in the hand weaving 
about the rigid column, which seemed a firebrand against her sweaty palm. 

Their mouths parted. Panting, Gordon said, "Man, hard again. Stick yourself 
with that plastic cock baby. I'm gonna fill your mouth. 

"Damn, the little tart," Margaret sneered. "Steal my man, right from under 
my nose. I should kill her. Right this instant." 

Jackie wasn't too happy either. "I have the same feeling." 

Sherry, meanwhile rammed the dildo home, as Gordon instructed, saw the 
glistening pool of pussy juice gathering at the apex of her crotch. She 
whispered, blushing as she spoke, "Ohhhh, I want to, I want to so bad." 

She jiggled the pecker in her slot just to be sure this was, indeed, 
everything she always wanted. 

Gordon said nothing. The girl had gone to the brink and then a step. She was 
crazy as a loon carrying on the way she did. 

It upset Gordon. His balls rumpled, his cock twitching to hug the lining of 
her mouth. Eagerly, he leaned against her, slowly moving his cock where his 
lips had been. 

Sherry felt his presence against her arm and turned her head, felt the tip 
of his cock brush her lower lip. With an upward movement, she drove the 
dildo into her cunt. Up to the hilt. 

It's in! It's all the way in! 

Sherry wanted him to spurt in her mouth. 

His juice, I need it, need it now. I want to lick and lip it, wow, he's so 
fucking big, his cock may drown me. 

"Take my pecker," he ordered. "Damn you, baby, take my cock!" 

His fingertip wriggled on her anal knot, sending electric thrills up her 
spine. She was hot everywhere, on fire and before she knew what was 
happening, her thumb flicked the dildo switch. 

YAAAAAAA!! ! ! 

Her belly tightened, then went straight as a board. Her rump fluttered 
briefly, followed by her lips which trembled when not dribbling spittle. 

Gordon, not wanting to miss his chance, swung his pecker towards those 
wetting lips, grabbing her jaw with his hands and jerking her face around. 

Her mouth faced him, the lips shaped into a giant O. It was a target, a 
huge, easy target and with a forward jolt of hips, his prick found the mark, 
penetrated inside. 

He plunged once, twice and again. Sweat poured from his skin as he rammed 
her mouth. 

"Ohhhh, this is it," he gasped. 

It came in a hot gush, a fountain of thick cream spitting into her throat. 
Her renewed cum was so body-quaking that she was not quite aware of the cock 
discharging in her mouth. 

Electric thrills rattled her crotch. Wild, wonderful thrills. 

She couldn't have enough. Not nearly enough. 

 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

She was in bed, a small bed in a small upstairs room which had only one 
light. She was smiling, half asleep, her every nerves melted to ooze. 

Gordon looked down, the girl's tiny body resting in a sea of sheets and 
fluffy mattress. 

A man wearing a white coat examined the girl's eyes. He shone a beam of 
light into the pupil, watching the iris contract several times before 
snapping the light beam off. He breathed heavily and reached for a 
cigarette. 

"Well, doctor," Gordon said. 

The doctor, a small turnip shaped man with thick glasses and a brush 
moustache sucked on the cigarette. He looked off in the distance, his mind 
drifting to other patients. 

"It will be hard to pinpoint," the doctor answered. "She may come out of it 
in one day. Perhaps more. Cases such as these are difficult." 

Gordon watched, then turning to the doctor, put a hand on his shoulder. 

"Doc, you don't know what happened," Gordon began. 

And the doctor, his head cocked back and his eyes bulging out from behind 
the glasses, waved Gordon silent. 

"I can tell you a girl can only take so much stimulation," he said. "And 
from examining this girl, she got just too damn much." 

On the way downstairs, Gordon explained as best he could the events of the 
past few days. The doctor listened impassively and, upon reaching the living 
room, he sat next to Margaret and puffed on his cigarette. 

"I don't blame you all one bit," he said slowly. "In my youth these things 
happened, but not as commonly as they happen today. It used to be very 
exclusive stuff. Now, well, everyone is having group sex." 

"It's the only way," said Margaret. 

"And how," said Jackie. 


THE END
