Teacher's Bonus
by Carl Stevens 


FOREWORD 

When a teacher oversteps her bounds by becoming a sexual mentor as well as 
an intellectual one, is she to be chastened? 

Today, now, society practically screams that such is the case. The idea of 
an adult, much less a teacher, being physically intimate with a child is 
socially unspeakable. It is ingrained in the moral prudishness of our 
forbearers and intellectually justified by our desire to protect our 
children. 

Today, however, the restraints of our ancestors as regards moral codes is 
slipping away. The once permeating idea that all sex is sinful is rapidly 
falling by the wayside. 

There can be no question that in this novel Mala is not the sexually stable 
average person in society. It might even be hinted from the descriptive 
passages about her sex drives, that her sexual activity borders on 
nymphomania. 

The fact that she is attracted to youngsters, literally children, to satisfy 
her inordinate sexual cravings adds even more flavor of perversion to her 
activities. Yet, is it right to condemn her life style simple because her 
behavior is socially deviant. 

As Mala is drawn into the maelstrom of life in middle America her sexual 
proclivities are widely accepted-as in truth her behavior would be accepted 
in real life. Art reflects life, and while the nuances in this book are 
sharper, more direct than is normal in everyday living, the image of truth 
is plainly visible. 

Mala is accepted because each person she encounters is enriched by that 
encounter. When people gain by their experiences, when they realize 
satisfaction, they are positive toward the person who makes life more 
pleasant. Usually the negative reflections come from people who are 
frustrated in their own aspirations or behavior. Such people harbor 
jealousies and hatreds planted in their own minds by their own particular 
mental and emotional quirks-their own, you might say, perversions. 

The point of this book might be best stated by simply saying, what is wrong 
with a teacher who teaches sex joyfully to her students? Who makes the 
students understand that there is joy in sex for anyone who wants to find 
it. 

Surely the condensed scene of a typical middle American lover's lane is 
enough to dispel the myth of sexual innocence that surrounds the average 
teenage child. And, if we look into the brief incident that takes place 
there in Mala's story, we are reminded that the evil in sex is a product of 
a jaundiced society, not that of a sexually liberated individual. 

It is too much to say that the behavior of individuals like Carl Chessman 
who died in California because of a lover's lane kidnapping-rape charge 
would be totally altered by total sexual freedom, but few psychologists 
think that total sexual freedom would make the picture worse. 

The layman is often confused by the different stances taken by the experts, 
but one truth above all others in psychiatric medicine today is that the 
largest group of patients being treated for anti-social behavior are usually 
suffering from sexual misinformation and hang-ups that directly lead to 
their own frustration and subsequent anti-social behavior. 

What may be needed are more teachers who love their students, not fewer. 

-THE PUBLISHER 


CHAPTER ONE 

Naked, relaxed, and happy, Mala Peters leaned back on her elbows on her king 
size bed and looked with loving eyes at her cunt, reflected in the tall 
mirror a few feet away. Of all her possessions, she loved this taffy-haired, 
wet-lipped pussy the most, for there was nothing she owned or ever expected 
to own which had given her so much pleasure. 

Her strong, gracefully rounded thighs were opened wide so that she could see 
and admire every warm, juicily shining detail. Its rich, strong perfume 
swirled up to her nostrils, for it was already quite warm in the sunny, 
high-ceilinged bedroom. With a smile and a wink at her reflection, shivering 
in anticipation, she gently rubbed two fingers in the slick rosette of inner 
labia, picking up some of the clear juice they were distilling, and tasted 
it with gourmet delight. 

She had long ago admitted, this rejecting every restrictive tenet of her 
family's austere life, that cunt was the most beautiful word she knew, that 
cunts were lovely and precious. She had no illusions she could very easily 
have become a Lesbian. Except for one delectable item. 

Men's cocks. 

For the present, Mala had to live without that delightful commodity. In her 
first few days at Oakdale High School, she had seen a score of attractive 
men who, she knew with unfailing instinct, would have liked nothing better 
than to shove their hard, bold, utterly lovely pricks into the softly 
sucking darkness of her cunt. And Mala, too, would have liked nothing 
better. 

But female teachers who are blessed with opulent beauty like Mala's must not 
take chances. Oh, they are human, which meant that they fuck and love it, 
but they must be careful. Even with the assurances that Mala had from her 
contract, even with the benign power of Lew Jonas behind her, she was not 
about to press her luck, which had been wonderful so far. 

She got up and went toward the impossibly luxurious bathroom with its sunken 
marble tub and enormous shower. It was big enough for half a dozen people. 
This house was also a part of her luck. 

There were mirrors everywhere, it seemed. Her big, firm breasts, her soft, 
muscular belly, the sweet, strong curves of her thighs, even the darkly 
inviting crevice between her rounded ass-cheeks, all greeted her from the 
mirrors. Her body was beautiful. A gymnast's body. As a matter-of-fact, a 
world class gymnast's body. She had missed the Nineteen-Sixty Olympics team 
only because she had grimaced in pain as she did a walkover-split on the 
balance beam. A jealous older woman judge, left off the team for the first 
time in twelve years, had ignored form and skill and downgraded for 
"personality." 

Well, that was a long time ago, when Mala had been sixteen. And it had been 
the third day of her period. "My fault," she had told herself wryly. She 
refused to blame her flaming little cunt. 

That tall, strong, male track jock in the training village, whatever his 
name was, had found her at dusk the night before in the dark tunnel of the 
stadium. Her breasts were, even then, straining at the front of her training 
leotard; his big cock had been a marvelous sight to her youthful eyes. 
Considering that it was the second day of her period, she should have sucked 
him off, but he would have none of that, and fucked her with such force in 
the gathering dark of the tunnel that she felt twice as large in the throat 
of her cunt for the next twenty-four hours. 

He had taken her condition lightly. "You're so cute, chickie; who gives a 
fuck that you're a wee bit bloody." he had quipped. Maybe the fact that he 
was from Kenya had given him a less esthetic approach to sex. Maybe it had 
given him that enormous cock, too. 

In any case, in the midst of that walkover, with her legs opened the same as 
in a split, she had felt that her pussy was gaping open, that no tampon in 
the world could hold back the gush of dark blood and debris from her 
juvenile womb. And, when she descended, making the split so perfect that her 
soft young pussy actually seemed to mash flat against the beam, she had made 
the shamed face in expectation of the disgraceful blood that, she felt, 
would stain her practice tights. 

A long time ago. What the hell. She was still world class, and a lot of 
people knew about the bitch who had kept "Little Mala" off the team. She had 
been one of the best in America, and everyone knew it in spite of that 
horrid decision. It wasn't why she had slacked off in her fiercely 
competitive drive for world fame. In that year, realizing how hot and loving 
she was, she could no longer face the nunlike devotion, the mule-like 
drudgery. Oh, she still competed for a while, still fought it out with the 
best. But no longer trying for the absolute top. 

But people who knew gymnastics still knew Mala Peters. So that was part of 
her luck, too. That, and the sudden flare-up of championship-hot nuts that 
had struck the Oakdale High School Board after their boys and girls made it 
to the CIF finals. 

Mala smiled at the warm glow between her cunt lips. So, okay, she'd be a 
virgin for a while. Until what she wanted so hotly fell in her lap. But she 
wouldn't be a repressed virgin. This gorgeous shower, with all those shower 
heads each separately adjustable from a mist-fine spray to a thin, caressing 
stream, would give any hot girl a world of hot ideas. 

The thought made her clitoris throb. Her vagina, its lips unstuck by Mala's 
short walk from the bedroom, issued a warm, teasing little trickle of hot 
cunt nectar that oozed its way ticklishly down the inside of her thigh. 

She looked over her array of creams and lotions, all of them from the Mardon 
line. Those devils! Mala grinned. No wonder their cosmetics had gripped 
women's imagination. Sure, many of the jars and bottles were of standard 
design, but these were special, shaped and stoppered to resemble what else, 
to interest a woman like Mala?-men's cocks. Rounded, soft plastic bottles, 
with caps sculpted like every cockhead that ever throbbed out sperm in hot, 
milky ropes. 

Mala took the C-Creme. It wasn't the largest bottle. Who needs something big 
when one's lovely, loving pussy is so tight? 

She turned on first one shower head, then another. Three solid walls on the 
big shower, one huge glass door. Three rows of those marvelous, 
must-be-costly, adjustable fountains. 

Middle row adjusted to a cone of spray, warm but not hot, just right for the 
suddenly enlarged, aching nipples of her hard titties. Ooooh! Ooooh God! 
What a feeling! 

She squeezed the C-Creme bottle, holding it upside down. There was a hole in 
the soft, round cap; a drop of thick goo came out, then another, and Mala 
tasted it. Those Mardon people were simply crazy, that had to be it; sex 
crazy, cunt crazy, cock crazy. The stuff tasted like cum-juice, smelt like 
the rankly beautiful humidity under a man's foreskin. 

Her breasts were almost alive under the hard, sweet caress of those spray 
nozzles. Her mouth was suddenly flooded with saliva at the synthetic cock 
flavor of the lotion. 

For just a split second, she hated herself for masturbating, but that was 
horseshit, a hangover from the harsh puritanism of her childhood. God gave 
me this cunt to use, to enjoy, in any way that I can, she thought. 

She spread her gorgeous legs wide apart, then bent her knees, so that the 
hairy pads which primly closed her from the air and dust-but not from 
fingers, tongues, or cocks-came open. She felt the warm trickle from the 
shower aimed at her titties. It was coming down from the back as well as 
from the soft overhang of her breasts, such a neat, friendly dab of 
sensation around her ass-hole. If she had time, she would fill that 
responsive, clutching orifice with the small bottle with the soft mushroom 
head, the one with the long, flexible plastic neck and the bulbous shape 
that allowed her to shove it deep into her bowels without any fear of losing 
it. 

She groaned as she inserted the cock-shaped head just inside the quivering 
rim of muscle at the glowing entrance to her cunt. It seemed too large, and 
she knew that her period was going to be a few days early. When she was 
irregular on the early side, the inner lining of her vagina, the heart of 
her cunt, the "kissing muscles" at the entry, all swelled up and became 
vastly more sensitive. 

She was getting too confused by all this bullshit with the nozzles and 
sprays, with all this false-cock business with the creme bottles, there was 
a pounding in her heart, in her abdomen, a writhing in her guts, a sense of 
herself eating herself in the softly slipping muscles inside her cunt. 

Her vision blurred with sudden need, and she dropped the bottle on the wet 
floor, made a cone of three fingers, and jammed it skillfully, accurately, 
tenderly into her most vital area, into her itching, shrieking, sucking 
pussy, her wet thumb cleverly turned so that its soft cushion of meat just 
touched her bursting clitoris. 

It was a therapy, that and nothing more. But it was so badly needed, that 
Mala loved herself for the act, for the very lack of finesse that came from 
hunger. All right, she promised herself. We needed that. But we wont be 
having to whack ourselves off much longer. 

"This God damned shower's enough to undermine any gal's morals," she said 
aloud, hugging her soap-slippery body, now that the highly necessary sex 
explosion had rumbled and roared through her body, laughing in her sense of 
release. 

Back in the bedroom, she looked at her clock and whistled. Almost nine, but 
no problem. The neat little TR-3 in the drive was part of the marvelous new 
job, just like this incredible guest house on the Jonas estate. Breakfast 
would be waiting in the big house, almost a twisting, tree lined block away, 
and the sporty little two-seater would whisk her there, and then on to 
school, in a few minutes. 

Running a comb through her short, sleek cap of golden hair that gave her the 
appearance of a Fifteenth Century page boy in a burnished helmet she peeled 
back her sensuous, naturally red lips to inspect her perfect teeth, gave her 
unconfined breasts a pat where they stretched her white blouse in a straight 
line from nipple to nipple, and straightened her fitted mini-skirt. "They'd 
better not put me in the front row at that faculty meeting," she muttered 
with a grin, "or Max Virden will cream his shorts!" 

Remembering how the quiet, strongly built principal had flushed when they 
had shaken hands some months ago when she had visited the school district at 
Lew Jonas's personal invitation, Mala had grounds for her wicked little 
flight of imagination. 

Of course, being recommended by Lew Jonas meant a lot. He was president of 
the school board, and rich! That kind of money means power. And Lew Jonas 
knew how to use it, how to be fair and considerate, too, but still powerful. 

"We really want you down in Oakdale, Miss Peters, and what we offer will 
prove it," he had said in his best chairman-of-the-board voice, and then, 
seeing the flicker of amusement in her eyes, and remembering that, no matter 
how big he might be in his world of finance, she had been and still was just 
as big in her own world, he had begun to laugh. 

"I'm going to call you Mala," he had said. "And you call me Lew. I honestly 
think we may be associated for a long time, and I'm not a miss and mister 
kind of guy." 

Later, after he had detailed his presentation, she had to admit that he had 
covered everything of importance. Almost. 

"You've got tenure here in the L.A. school system," he had ticked off. "So, 
all right, we give you a five-year contract. Non-cancelable. Really 
non-cancelable. You could, pardon the expression, screw the principal on the 
fifty-yard line between halves at our Homecoming game and not be fired. 
That's tenure, right? And the Teachers Union, they transfer seniority, 
pension rights, everything. You lose none of that. 

"Now, the money. As a C-Eleven, or the L.A. equivalent, you draw fourteen 
thousand plus a few odd dollars. With us, to start, it's twelve-five. But 
I've fixed that. You not only head up the Phys Ed department, you're going 
to coach. That's an extra five thou, plus a lot of fringe benefits, plus a 
fat expense account. As a famous amateur, I'm sure you know how to get the 
most from an expense account." 

But with all of it, even his promise of free rent in his guest house "it's 
big and old and comfortable and all yours for as long as you like," he had 
said-and a new Triumph as a bonus, she hadn't been able to make up her mind. 

"At least come down and visit," he had said, calm as you please, no high 
pressure. And she had gone with him right then and there, having nothing 
else to do at the time. And she very much wanted to be with him, alone in 
the bedroomy privacy of his big Continental, to see whether or not he meant 
to tie her warm body into the invisible fine print between the lines of that 
unbelievable contract. Because that was one thing she wouldn't do with her 
pussy. 

"I expect to give away a million dollars worth of fucking before I hang it 
up," she had once said to a mixed group at a feel-good party, with two guys 
feeling her up at the same time in the dark room, and one of them trying to 
get his cock under her arm, against her breast at the same time. "But I 
wouldn't sell a smell of it for a million dollars!" And she hadn't been 
kidding. 

She had said the same thing time and time again. Being an amateur and a 
friend of the mighty, she had been given many valuable gifts. A lot in 
Westwood, in 1959, when she had won the gold at the Nationals. It was worth 
a lot of money. And she hadn't even let the guy so much as touch her ass, 
although later, because he had been so sweet, she had given him a blow job 
that had made him her friend and financial adviser for life. And other 
things, too, nice things. And no fucking for them, not ever. 

And Lew, on that first visit to look Oakdale over, had been a pleasant 
little surprise. 

She had not worn any panties, and the blower from his car's ventilating 
system had really gotten between her legs, its circulating air swirling her 
thick, gorgeously raunchy cunt-perfume throughout the car. It was even 
faintly embarrassing to her, it was so thick. like I hadn't washed Little 
Juicy all day, she thought. 

And Lew had chatted easily, looking at her without self-consciousness, 
telling her about himself, and his work, and his hobbies, one of which was 
being involved with education. "If I ever stopped to figure my time on an 
average amount earned per year," he had said with a smile, "I couldn't 
afford it, but maybe the contribution I make is worth it. If I sign you, it 
will be. We really have the kids to win a championship. I wouldn't lie to 
you." 

And then, a few miles before they came to the Oakdale-Athena off ramp, he 
had looked squarely at her for a second and said: "I'm no eunuch, and I'm 
not keeping my dirty mind anesthetized to throw you off guard, Mala. You're 
a lovely piece of goods, my dear, and I'm as much a man as you ever met. But 
I've got a wife I value above my fun, and if things go right, you're going 
to be a part of my family." 

Nothing tense, nothing harried, just plain, easy talk, and her respect for 
him filled her mind. 

She saw the guest house. It was fantastic. She had known some very 
substantial people throughout the world. So she knew something about luxury, 
real luxury, not tin-plate bullshit. And this was very, very nice, by any 
standards. 

Not a big house. One huge bedroom, a comfortable sitting room, a kitchen. 
"You'll eat with us, of course," Lew had said. "But a kitchen's nice for 
snacks or drinks." 

Of course it was furnished with antiques. Mala was impressed. Must be twenty 
thousand invested here, she thought. Not that such things would make up her 
mind for her, but it helped. And that bathroom! Unbelievable! That pink 
marble, the imported labor, the ornate fixtures, the complex plumbing, 
probably added up to more than she made in a year. A lovely bonus. 

Martha Jonas was sweet, too. Mala couldn't really see her as a sexpot, no 
matter what Lew had said. She seemed too quiet to be full of sex-fire, but 
she was quality all the way. 

But none of it, nor all of it, was really enough to sway her completely. 
After all, her pals were in Los Angeles. And it was an exciting place to 
live, that huge, threatening, dirty metropolis that seemed to swell and 
heave with a toxic life of its own, like the undulations of a brooding manta 
ray. 

No, not the money, not the contract, not the darling guest house nor the 
shining little TR-3. "It's like a jeweled watch," Lew had said. "Almost old 
enough to be a classic, and I spent more having it restored than a new one 
costs today!" It was all lovely, but it wasn't enough. 

She was almost ready to leave. "Take the Triumph," Lew had said. "Next time 
I drive up to L.A., I'll bring my son Jerry along and he can drive it back 
here." And that was when Jerry Jonas came into the room, and that was when 
Mala Peters made up her mind. 

He was absolutely beautiful. Almost six feet of him, at fifteen. Not gawky, 
like so many tall adolescents, but as graceful as a panther. Tanned skin, 
dark brown eyes, brown curly hair, shining white teeth. And a smile for 
Mala. 

"I sure hope Dad's persuaded you to come down here, Miss Peters," he had 
said. "I'm on the gym team, and we've got a lot of talent, at least I think 
so. But we just don't seem to have the motivation. And you could sure 
motivate me!" 

He had blushed a deep red, and Mala, too smart to let the boy's statement 
seem to be the deciding factor, nevertheless made up her mind at that 
moment. And all the way home, in the little sports car which Lew had 
insisted she take, she had been licking her lips, swallowing spit, clearing 
her throat, and fighting a hotly consuming desire which burned in her cunt. 

Now she was in Oakdale, the five-year contract signed, most of her 
possessions in the guest house, and next Monday was the first day of school. 
Today and tomorrow would be orientation for teachers and students, 
assignment of classes and individual scheduling, and then-the week end! 

"Yes, the weekend. That was a real milestone for Mala. 

Because, before this week end was over, she was going to fuck young Jerry 
Jonas. Fuck him and suck him and teach him to do the same for her. 

She shivered from a sharp bite of lust deep in side her flowing twat, and 
laughed at her schoolgirl reaction. "Take it easy," she admonished her 
mirrored image. "We've got lots of time." 

In a sudden wish to be part of the community to fit in with the faculty at 
Oakdale High, she drew on a pair of ultra sheer pantyhose. She hated all 
things restrictive. One of her pet detestations was clothing her legs and 
loins with this nylon fakery. She had almost considered asking Lew Jonas to 
include in her contract that she did not have to wear such damned 
nonsensical coverings of her most integral parts. "After all," she muttered, 
"I can't expect everyone to have the same feeling for my ass as I have." 

The thought tickled her, and she was still giggling when she parked the 
Triumph and went in to breakfast. She felt great. In fact, it was hard to 
believe that things could be any better. 

But she had another pleasant surprise. 

"We've got to impose on you, Mala," Lew said. "Martha's dad has an operation 
coming up. It's elective surgery, but he wants to have it a week from today. 
So we thought we'd drive back; it's a pretty time of the year, once you get 
past the desert." 

She kept her face impassive, but her heart was racing. 

"What do you want from me?" she asked with a smile. "Well, we can't take 
Jerry out of school. There's Mrs. Charles to look after the house, and 
Mister Charles has to stay on to look after the grounds. And Esperanza to 
help Mrs. Charles. But we want someone closer to him in age and, uh, 
inclinations to more or less take charge of our boy." 

He had draped an arm over Jerry's shoulders, and the boy was eyeing Mala 
eagerly. 

Mala managed to smile, managed to use her voice, although her tongue felt as 
thick and hard as if she were in the very last throes of a monumental 
orgasm. 

"Of course," she said. "You mustn't even think of it as an imposition. Jerry 
and I'll find a lot of things to do, right, Jerry?" 

 CHAPTER TWO 

That was a long, long day for Mala. For several months, ever since she had 
agreed to come to Oakdale, she had thought about young Jerry Jonas, his 
beautiful young body, his cock, which must be of equal beauty. But it was 
sort of day dream. 

Even after she had arrived and settled into the small house which would be 
her home "for as long as she wanted it," Lew had repeated, she had not 
thought in exact, concrete terms of how she would make the boy her own. On 
the weekend, yes, she hoped she could make it. Hoped. It would depend on a 
number of things. 

like how much supervision Lew and Martha exercised over Jerry. And whether 
he could be away from home for a few hours at a time without exciting 
curiosity or drawing questions. It would take nerve and determination. As 
she thought about it now, even during the continuous monotony of orientation 
talks and walks, Mala would feel quick, sharp quirks of itching lust in that 
darkly drooling crevice where she hoped to charm the fifteen-year-old boy 
into committing his strong, youthful cock. 

"Oooooohh!" she moaned in a whisper as she touched her open pussy lightly 
with toilet paper in the restroom. What a day to have this 
don't-touch-me-or-I'll-cum feeling, she thought. 

But she had it. Just thinking about the afternoon. 

For all her imagination, in fact, for all her experience in similar 
situations, she felt the least trace of panic. A thirty-year-old woman 
seducing a boy half her age demands only a few ingredients. Time and 
privacy, and those she had. But there was another, The right frame of mind 
in the boy. A desire to fuck, her mind said. Curiosity about a woman, her 
cunt, her breasts, her pubic hair, her nipples, the way her thighs join her 
body, what presses the trigger that makes her cum where are her points of 
deepest sensation, sensuality, lust. 

If Jerry were an ordinary kid of fifteen. If only she did not live, so to 
speak, under the same roof If only she did not already, love and respect his 
parents. 

She shrugged irritably. He was only a kid, and at an age where he needed to 
learn about cunt, about sex, about women. No, not about women. About a 
woman, a particular woman. 

She was on her way to the library in the Liberal Arts building when she 
thought of a way to begin, and she had to stop and lean against the wall, so 
intense, so urgent was her feeling of sexual heat. 

The kids got their schedules finished early and went home. Most of them. But 
not Jerry. He had left his car at home to ride to school with Mala, already 
a sort of object for hero worship to him. So he stayed until she could 
leave. 

It was a warm day. September, even October, are far more like summer months 
in Southern California than are June and July. So, when they turned off of 
Santa Fe drive to head for home, Mala stopped the little car, said: "Man, 
it's pretty hot!" and, lifting her beautiful ass, simply reached under and 
back and shucked off those wretched panty hose. To accomplish this, she had 
to raise first one foot and then the other. There was no doubt that, if 
Jerry chose to look, he could not help seeing that curly-haired, fat-lipped 
little pussy which Mala so much loved. In fact, he would have to go to some 
lengths to miss it. 

It gave the woman a deep thrill to realize that he had not missed it, that 
he was obviously not affronted or shocked, and his bright gaze was filled 
with interest when she turned to look at him. 

"Golly, Jer," she said, "I must have been burning up to forget that I had a 
man with me." She laughed and thought: If I were only two per cent cornier, 
I'd give him a wink and an elbow in the ribs. And if I were two per cent 
hotter, I'd have his cock out and in my mouth in five seconds! 

When they got to the Jonas place, Mala stopped at her own little house but 
left the car's motor running. "I can drive you home," she said, "but if you 
need to use the bathroom, you can come in and use mine." She regarded his 
face, a struggle between embarrassment and his desire to be adult. As an 
exercise in tact as well as straight action, she turned the ignition key and 
got out, leaving it up to Jerry. And he got out, too, looking very pleased 
with himself. "Guess I'll use your, uh, place," he said as deeply as his 
changing voice would allow. 

She allowed him the complete privacy she felt he needed. If things worked 
out as she believed sneaking a peek at the young boy holding his cock, 
taking a piss, would be nothing by comparison. 

When he came out of the bathroom, she was reclining on her bed, leaning back 
on her elbows one knee pulled up. She was so hot that the warm air of the 
room touching her opened twat felt like an arctic breeze. She was so hot 
that she did not care for subtlety. She was so hot that she let one knee 
fall to the bed, and she felt her pussy pop open, the fat lips breaking the 
seal of her dried cum-juice with a barely audible noise, more felt than 
heard. 

But she did remember one thing of importance. This was for all his adult 
size and beauty, Jerry was only a kid. And kids need a bridge from where 
they are to where the action is. 

She patted the bed beside her. "Sit down, Jer," she said in as casual a 
voice as her growing heat permitted. "Feel better now, don't you? You should 
have taken a little pee for yourself before we left school. I know I did, or 
I'd have been right in there with you, letting you piss in the sink while I 
used the toilet." 

The kid flushed, opened his mouth, and apparently forgot what he was going 
to say. I'm coming on too strong, Mala thought. 

"Listen, Jer," she said, "don't mind me. Remember, I'm grown up, and you're 
so, well, so big and poised for your age that I've been thinking of you as 
grown up, too. If my plain speaking embarrasses you, I'm sorry." 

To her great pleasure, he laughed, tentatively at first, then with more 
gusto. "Geez, Miss, uh, hey, what shall I call you? like at school, I guess 
it'll have to be Miss Peters. But here, well, it doesn't sound right. What 
do you think?" 

She held out her arms to him, the tall, quiet, sweet young kid who had twice 
looked directly at her pussy without flinching, and he smiled and came down 
to her, not kissing her, not yet, but lying on her enough so that her left 
breast was gorgeously crushed against her ribs, and his beardless cheek came 
against hers. 

She laughed, deep in her throat, and said: "You're all I had hoped, Jerry. 
Much of a man inside that boyish front. We can be sure-enough friends, can't 
we?" 

He breathed evenly against her neck, the sensation giving her the subtlest 
of movements and responses in the dark slickness of her vagina, and at last 
he whispered: "I'm glad you think so. Say can I sit up for a sec? I'm, uh, 
sort of twisted." 

She held him briefly, laughing. When he sat up he looked uncomfortable, and 
Mala said: "Listen I know this may seem too sudden for you, but I've known, 
ever since last Spring, when I first me you, that we could be friends. And 
I'm not kid ding. You know that. Right?" 

"Yeah," the kid said. "But I'm sort of, you know, not sure how to talk to a, 
well, a grownup And a lady, besides." 

"Listen to me, Jerry. I'm going to say a few words. Are you ready? Are you 
listening? Cunt, cock, fuck, pussy, shit, piss, screw, ass-hole, you can 
fuck, I can fuck, she can fuck, he can fuck, they can fuck. You've got a 
cock, I've got a cunt, boys jerk off, girls finger-fuck themselves." She 
blew out a breath as though relieved. 

"You see what I'm getting at, Jerry? I'm telling you that you can talk to me 
any way you please. You don't have to hunt for the right words. Now, let me 
guess what you wanted to say. You're uncomfortable, that's why you had to 
sit up. And it's because you've got a hard-on, isn't it?" 

The tall boy began to laugh. "I'll never knew anyone like you, Mala. You 
didn't answer me about what to call you, but if you're going to be so real 
with me, I couldn't call you Miss Peters." 

"Ms Peters, at school. At least for awhile. Spelled M-S. You know, the 
Ladies Lib thing? Pronounced Miz, the same as most people pronounce that 
other title, M-R-S. That's right, Jerry. You call me Mala. Why not? But you 
didn't answer me." 

Jerry looked away, reddened again, and turned back defiantly. "Yeah, sure. A 
hard-on. Want to see it?" 

He looked so doubtful, so vulnerable, that Mala sat up, moved over to the 
edge of the bed where he was standing, and put her arm around his hips. 
"This is sort of a rough time, in a way, Jerry," she whispered. "We're 
getting acquainted, really acquainted, sort of fast. But don't be afraid of 
me." 

She began to unbuckle his belt, and, since her cheek was against the 
hardness of his young cock, she felt it jump in anticipation. She unfastened 
the hook, ran the zipper down, groped in his shorts. 

"My God," she said in an awed voice, "you sure have a nice cock, Jerry! Nice 
and big, nice and hard!" Her voice shook. 

"Thank you, Miss, uh, I mean, Mala," he said formally, and once more his 
young laugh rang out. "Oh, Jesus, Mala, be careful! Ohhh! I'm about to 
well-take it easy!" 

She let him go quickly, looking up at his intent face. 

"Okay, Jerry," she said huskily. "You're about to cum. Hang in there, baby. 
I want you to cum but I want to help. Watch! This is for you!" She pulled 
the blouse over her head, letting her breasts, firm as any schoolgirl's, bob 
out of their confinement. "These are for you," she said, almost shyly. "I 
mean that! And-this is for you, too!" 

She thumbed the mini-skirt off, and, for just a moment, felt as she had at 
twelve, when a boy with a hard-on first stood and stared, open-mouthed, at 
that childish cunt. 

"Oh, my God!" the boy gasped. "Oh, beautiful Oh, Mala, it's beautiful!" 

She had expected shock, silence, confusion, but she had made a good guess. 
There was a good deal of man in this boy. 

Quickly, feeling his eyes eating her breasts, her belly, the hair on her 
pussy, she undressed him and lay back. "Are you all right now, Jerry?" she 
whispered. "Are you still about to cum? Do you want to shoot it all over me? 
On my belly, on my cunt, on my tits? In my mouth?" 

She reached out and took his stiff young prick in her hand, very carefully, 
moving her warm fingers gently, pulling the full, velvet-soft foreskin back 
to expose the shining red head, a drop of clear fluid leaking out of its 
little slit. 

"I-I'm okay, I think! Oooohh, Mala, that feels good! I don't want to cum too 
quick! Can I, you know, look at your pussy? Really look at it? I've never 
seen one, not close up. And not one with, uh, well, not a grown-up one!" His 
voice was low, his hands trembled. She quietly took his hand. 

"Lie down here," she said. "Beside me. Do anything you want to. Turn me 
over, pull my legs apart, kiss my breasts, stick your fingers up me. Oh, 
Jerry!" she almost shrieked. "I'm sooooo HOT! Oh, Jesus, let me hang on to 
you!" 

She gripped him around his head, pumping her ass up and down as a short 
cum-blast shook her loins, feeling the heat and slickness of cunt-nectar 
flow out of her, down into the crack of her ass. "See what you do to me!" 
she asked, very low, laughing shakily. "Talk about being ready to cum!" 

"Golly," he said wonderingly. "Can you do that again? How long do you have 
to wait?" 

He was standing on his knees, his nodding cock just above her mouth, and she 
said thickly: "Get your knees on each side of my body. There, that's right. 
Are you still about to cum? Lean down on your elbows. Put your hands around 
my hips. 

Around my ass. Ohhhh! Don't touch my cunt! No yet! Can you see it?" 

"Well, yes. It's sort of open and red. Real pink Man, is it ever wet! And it 
smells wonderful! Hey! What are you doing? Wow! You better look out, Mala, 
or you're going to get a big load of cum in your mouth!" 

He laughed, but it was a very shaky laugh, and his body trembled as she 
sucked hard on his hard young cock. 

She had had to raise her head off the bed, and now she lay back again, 
holding the stiff, unyielding organ at its base, savoring the marvelous, 
acrid male tastes that she had worked out from under his humid foreskin. She 
was still within a hair of cumming, but, now that so much ground had been 
gained so quickly, she wanted only to assure pleasure for young Jerry. His 
kind of pleasure, any way he wanted. 

Quietly, using her free hand to reach up and stroke his naked back, she 
asked: "What do you want to do, Jerry? I want to make you shoot this 
wonderful big load of jism. I'd love to suck you off to swallow it, to eat 
your cum. Or we can squeeze you off between my tits. Or you can ram it into 
me, into my cunt, and fuck me until I scream! Damn!" she swore. "I'm almost 
screaming now! What do you want?" 

His voice was eager, but tinged with doubt. "I wish, uh, if it's all 
right-if you think it's all right, I mean, Mala, well, can a fellow, you 
know, suck a girl off?" She felt a warmth all through him and, looking up at 
the crack of his ass, so smooth and touchingly hairless, realized that he 
was blushing all over. 

She used both arms to hug him around his rump, letting the hard cock jerk 
free, and said in a ragged whisper: "Oh, yes, Jerry, my darling! Ohh, 
yessss! Suck me, kiss me, lick me! Ohhh, baby! Give me your cock! OHHHH! OH 
GOD!" 

The wild flame of orgasm, which had flickered in her cunt all day, ever 
since that relieving spasm in the shower this morning, burst deep in her 
belly, in her womb, flaring out around the gently kissing mouth as the 
inexperienced boy, driven only by instinct, smeared his happily seeking face 
into her opened pussy, his nose snorting its own heat into the sensitive 
anus. 

She was sucking violently, in a crazy beat of lust, going up on him, until 
at last, as she felt his cock, so marvelously big and mature for a boy, get 
harder, swell until it nearly choked her, and begin to shoot its jets of 
sperm, hot and rich and slick, tasting like what it was, like the stuff that 
creates life, like love, like FUCKING! And her screaming voice, choked in 
her throat by the plunging dick, became only a vibration that shook in her 
guts, that gave the spurting cock an electric sense of wild feeling, wilder 
and richer and longer-lasting than even Jerry's most expert and imaginative 
masturbation. 

And then, slowly, with a languid collapse that was like the slow-motion of 
television action, they were on the bed, fallen, gasping, crying, laughing, 
cum-smeared, ready to look at each other with new eyes, to see each other 
with new, bold, happy understanding. 

For just a second or two, Mala felt a deep fear. Just a kid, Jerry was. 
Maybe this was his first sex experience-with a live partner, at least. How 
would he react? With disgust, scorn, guilt? 

And then, miracle of manhood! He was turned about, his wet, still fat cock 
between her smooth thighs, his muscled chest mashing her boobs absolutely, 
gloriously flat so that she could see one long, hard nipple stick out like a 
finger before he rolled it out of sight. And he was kissing her kissing her, 
kissing her, moving his face about so that she could kiss off and lick in 
the sweet and gamy cunt juice that was all over his beautiful, slick-shiny 
face. 

He slowed down his wild smooching at last, and she thought she could feel, 
against her pussy, still smashingly tender after that cum which she had 
needed so deeply, a faint but very real movement in his cock. A stir of 
life, a promise of health and lust and stretching pleasure. 

He let his head go down beside her, his cheek on her cheek, but all at once 
he raised his head and looked boldly into her eyes. "Show me how to kiss," 
he ordered, and laughed. "Show me how people kiss when they want to fuck." 

He put his mouth on hers, his teeth only slightly parted, but when she moved 
the tip of her tongue against them, he opened his sweet mouth wide, and 
eagerly sucked her tongue in, hard, all the way, and she shivered at the 
inner delight of letting his saliva run into her mouth, against her teeth 
and gums, across her tongue. It was not as rich and stirring as his blasts 
of sperm had been, but his breath was like a baby's, and she responded with 
an involuntary shudder of muscles in her belly, a cum-preliminary. 

He raised his head. "What was that?" he asked. "You were shaking, sort of. 
Did I hurt you?" 

She laughed in a deep, slow push of warmth and delight, and urged his body 
further on to her, holding him tightly. 

"Every woman should be so lucky, to be hurt like that," she joked. He 
slipped, his belly moving against hers, and she said: "we're soaked with 
sweat! What a simply wonderful feel! Ooooh! Move your chest back and forth. 
Ooooh, you're making my boobs feel so great! Rub again! Oh, Jerry, you're 
sweet!" 

She rolled him off of her, onto his back, and he felt so good, so right, 
that he let her; let his cock lie there in fat display, her spit and some of 
his jism drying on it. 

She was on her knees, her pussy hidden between her legs, and she could 
imagine how it puffed out, down between her heels, its lips so thick and fat 
from her beautiful, complete, gut-swirling cum. On an impulse, knowing that 
this boy had a lot to learn, including exactly how a "Grown up lady's" cunt 
looked at various angles, she got on her hands and knees and moved as though 
to kiss his reviving prick, reveling in the rich aromas of a male crotch 
sweated by sex. Her opulently structured ass was right there where he could 
see it, touch it if he wished, and she knew that her pouting cunt was still 
open for she felt the cooling kiss of room temperature on her exposed inner 
labia. 

"Hey, you're pretty drippy," the boy said, and giggled. "I read where girls 
don't cum the same way men do. Or boys," he added defensively. 

She lifted his cock in her hand, put it in her mouth and sucked it gently, 
running her tongue around the head, pushing the tip of it between head and 
foreskin, and releasing it to smile down at him. "If you're talking about 
yourself, you have my permission to call yourself a man," she said. "Honest! 
I meant it when I said you were wonderful!" 

She stood still for his probing fingers, although he was into her most 
sensitive areas, left almost raw with desire by that magnificent burst of 
mouth-sucked orgasm. 

"Do you like the way that feels, Jerry?" she asked, and it took 
concentration to hold her voice at a normal level. "Did you ever feel a 
girl's cunt before?" 

He continued to play, running his finger around the slickness inside her, 
stroking the lump of grainy glandular tissue just inside the upper area of 
her vagina, prodding in to give her cervix, the hard mouth of her womb, a 
sickeningly sweet jar. 

"Never did," he choked. "Once, at a party over in Rancho Rico, one of the 
girls claimed she could fuck every boy there, but I was tenth in line, and 
Roy Brady, who was eighth, got off her and said he couldn't cum, she was so 
sloppy, and it turned me off. I jerked off when I got home, though," he 
said, and laughed. "I guess that's real kid stuff, isn't it?" 

His fingers felt perfectly marvelous, but it was an unsatisfactory action, 
due to his innocence. Just as he hit a spot of erotic intensity, just as she 
hung poised on the edge of another sweet orgasm, his uninstructed fingers 
would stray away, poking into areas that felt pretty good, but that lacked 
the harshly intense nerve-hunger that would throw her on him while her cunt 
flared with that tearing burst of cumming. 

With an effort, she kept her mind on what he was saying. What he had just 
said. But her body was on fire. "Not kid stuff at all, Jerry," she 
whimpered, almost in a groan. "Jerking off is better than aching for a fuck. 
You're jerking me off right now. And before we're through, during the months 
and days and weeks and years, I'll find ways to-Oooooohhh! Ooooohhhh! Hold 
me, baby! I'm ccuummmmiinnngggg!" 

Her humping body had worked its way off the boy but his fingers were still 
hooked inside her giving her a hard, sweet pressure, and his young mouth was 
opened in disbelief when her eyes cleared and she could see him plainly. 

"Wow! I guess I see why girls don't cum like men," he said. "If you shot a 
big load every time you popped your nuts, and had one big cum after another, 
you'd die!" 

She laughed tenderly, pulling away from him, watching him sniff and lick at 
his reeking fingers, dripping with the slick, warm juice from her cunt. 

"For a boy who never felt a girl's cunt, you're showing a lot of ambition to 
learn," she teased him, and then, as he looked abashed, she drew his face to 
her aching breasts, feeling a deep and lovely warmth as he sucked at one 
nipple. "You're a real marvel, Jerry," she whispered above his dark, curly 
head. "You know more about pleasing a woman right now than a lot of men with 
a hundred times more experience!" 

"Look what you've done for me," he said to her, pulling away and turning 
toward her. "I never got a second hard-on so quick. But I never had so much 
reason." He looked just a little flushed, not sure of what he should say or 
do, and Mala's maternal heart swelled with affection. 

She pushed him back to a reclining position, taking the soft head of his big 
prick in her mouth, turning her eyes to him, trying to smile with that big 
thing forming her mouth into a stretched "O", trying to tell him with her 
expression just how great he was, just how sweet and unbelievable and 
masculine his penis looked and felt and tasted. It was a marvelous moment 
for her, and for him as well. His mind still held the brilliantly colored 
picture of her puffed out cunt, its slick, drippy, convoluted inner lips so 
filled with hot blood that they pushed out between the-haired flaps of soft, 
spongy tissue. And his fingers still tingled from the magic of her cunt, the 
firm, juicy entry, the incredibly soft, smooth inner walls with their 
viscous coating, the constant suck and grip of her muscles. And then, after 
he had withdrawn his hand, the raunchy beauty of that cunt perfume, the 
gaggingly rich flavor of the slick ooze as he licked his fingers! 

For just a moment, looking at the boyishness in his face, seeing the child 
while, at the same second, she was eating a man's prick, gave Mala a strange 
and yearning ache in her heart, a desire to hold the boy, to comfort him. 
And right with that traitor thought, that recycled nonsense of a Sunday 
School background, she thought: What greater comfort can a woman give a man 
than to drain his balls? 

Her mouth still held lingering echoes of his powerful jets of sperm, the 
thud of his cock against the back wall of her throat, the raw richness of 
taste that still anointed her taste buds. She was thinking of that, but 
thinking even more strongly of maneuvering that big, hard cock into her when 
the phone rang. 

Her reflexes were so perfectly under control that she did not stir, but 
Jerry raised up quickly, his face concerned, and she grinned at him, wiping 
her lips. "I'll get it," she said. 

There was a three-trunk flip-over relay between the house and guest house, 
and a blinker-buzzer signal system when there was a guest house call. Mala 
pushed the switch where the light was blinking, answered, said: "Oh, yes, 
Mrs. Charles. He's right here. Surely. Line two? Fine " Jerry was standing 
by her and she handed him the phone. 

"It's your dad," she said. "On line two." 

"Hi, dad! How are you? How's mom? How far did you get?" 

The boy chatted on, and Mala, with a wry grin, watched his hard-on droop, 
grow noticeably smaller, then sink into softness, still a good mouthful, but 
not a cock in her meaning of the word. 

"I'm at the guest house, with Miz Peters," Jerry was saying. "She gave me a 
ride to school, and now I'm trying to help her with some chores." He 
listened for a minute or two. "Yes, sir," he said "I know where they are. 
I'll mail them right away. 

Holiday Inn, in Denver. You bet. Sure thing, dad. I'll tell her." 

He hung up, looking pleased but sheepish. "I know that was a lie, Mala, that 
I was doing some chores for you, but I had to tell him something. I have to 
mail him some papers. Air Mail, right away." 

He looked at his wilted cock, picked it up in his hand, turned a woebegone 
face toward Mala. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and handed him his clothes, leaning forward 
just "once to peel the foreskin back with thumb and forefinger, taking the 
soft, shrunken head into her lips, touching it lightly with her tongue. 

"Don't you worry, Jerry," she grinned at him. "I know it's all still in 
there, the hard-on, the jism that made it happen. We'll get it up and out. 
Get the cock up, get the cum-juice out. See here?" 

She rolled backward on the bed, her knees back almost on her shoulders, 
spread wide, the huge tendons standing out on the inside of her thighs. Her 
pussy, wetly drooling so that a clear trickle of her cunt nectar had spread 
down the crack of her ass, where her pinkly puckered anus nestled in a ring 
of dark blonde hair, was so open that it seemed to yawn. It was like a 
toothless mouth, except that the exposed membrane was softer than anyone's 
gums could ever be. 

The boy, staring, faintly smiling, said: "Yeah, Mala, I see. What 're you 
telling me? That it'll be ready when I get back?" 

With her fantastic muscle control, she worked her vaginal sphincter's 
muscles so that the gap closed, came open, closed again, as if it were 
chewing. 

"It'll be ready for you any time, baby," she said softly. "Any time. And 
don't you forget it!" 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Knowing the cock-raising power of the female aroma, Mala disdained a shower, 
slipping into a pair of white shorts which fit her beautiful thighs like 
another skin, and a loose knit shirt with a fanciful design all around the 
upper half. A pair of kidskin slippers she had gotten in Spain, and a tall 
leather cap given her by a Russian athlete years ago completed her costume. 

She felt marvelous, her belly still warm from the cannonading of lust as 
young Jerry had sucked her so deftly, so she left the little sports car by 
her bungalow and took off across the springy lawn. In her glow of well 
being, she ran off a dozen cartwheels, finishing with a couple of forward 
flips, and went back, laughing, to pick up the peaked cap where she had lost 
it during the first few cartwheels. 

When she got to the long, shaded portico of the main house. She was greeted 
by Mrs. Charles a woman apparently in her early forties or late thirties, a 
smallish, cuddly female who seemed pigeon-breasted because of the fullness 
of her breasts, and the rather tight, decidedly conservative type dresses 
she habitually wore. 

There had been no more than an introduction and a handshake between them, 
but now the housekeeper walked to meet Mala, smiling, and put her arm around 
the younger woman. It was such a welcome gesture of friendship that Mala, 
touched, put her arm around Mrs. Charles and somehow, she wasn't quite sure 
how, found her hand squeezing a large, softly full tit, un-brassiered, and 
confined only by the women's dress. 

Since she certainly hadn't intended it, she had to conclude either that Mrs. 
Charles had slipped and fallen against her, or that she had deliberately 
moved or turned so that the breast had been engineered into Mala's hand. 

To test the other woman, she gave the warm. soft handful of tit a hearty, 
overt squeeze, pinching the nipple which was so obviously alert and hard, 
and said in an exaggeration of modesty and manners: "Oh, just look at old 
clumsy me, grabbing your boob like we were sorority sisters! Next thing you 
know, I'm liable to be trying to steal a kiss!" 

She removed her hand from the welcoming breast and placed it on the shorter 
woman's shoulder, looking down at the pretty little face, now screwed into a 
scowl. 

"Okay, okay, if you're all that straight," Mrs. Charles said. "I don't care 
what you think; I'm not a butch, not even a Lesbian, not on any scale I know 
of. It's just that all I ever see is Charles; I never get away by myself, 
and he's a dear man, but he isn't everything in the world. And," she said, 
giving Mala a searching look, "I know damn well you know exactly what I 
mean!" She flushed and looked away, but Mala squeezed the well-stacked 
little woman's shoulder and turned her so that they were facing, then bent 
and kissed her. 

There was a very sharp feeling of tension between them, a sort of electric 
current that lifted Mala into another dimension, and then Mrs. Charles had 
her mouth wide open, letting Mala's tongue come in and touch hers, and the 
younger woman, responding to this, kept her lips widely parted. It had 
always seemed to Mala to be a very hot way to kiss; just the idea of open 
mouths seemed to suggest an open cunt, and the tongues, hard and seeking, 
going in and out without being wrapped around each other, were more like 
hard pricks than ever. 

A girl athlete, especially one as sexily beautiful as Mala, always draws a 
good deal of courting by those female jocks who make up a goodly percentage 
of women's track and field teams. And, because she was hot, and because 
there was, on many venues away from home, a shortage of men, she knew what 
it was to have the hot, snaky, expert tongue of another woman sucking out 
her agonies of ecstatic orgasm. 

Now, with a deep feeling of sisterhood and sympathy for Mrs. Charles, a 
genuine sexual empathy for anyone disadvantaged in the cock-and-cunt 
department of life, she suddenly held he smaller woman tightly against her, 
closing her lips down on the darting tongue, sucking the sweetness of the 
other woman's questing mouth, feeling the thrust of the compact body. 

After a moment, because a kiss of passion can quickly become ridiculous 
unless it leads to a higher plane of sex, and quickly, they drew apart, and 
Mala looked kindly at the flushed, determined face she held at arm's length. 

"My dear," she whispered. "Please, I don't even know your given name. Or 
Charles's. Is he Mister Something Charles, or Mister Charles Something? 
Look," The taller girl said, giving the little woman a kiss: "You mustn't 
feel badly about this. You know it's all right. I'm just not, well, ready 
for any girl-on-girl stuff right now. Okay?" 

Tears rolled down the smooth little cheeks again, and Mrs. Charles suddenly 
put her head against Mala's breasts, hugging her very hard. 

"My name's Mae," she said. "Mae Charles. My husband is John." She sniffed. 
"Anyhow, you're sweet. I'm sorry I was so, well, aggressive, but you looked 
so beautiful and free and strong, turning over and over across the lawn. I 
could see your-oh, dear! I'm terrible, aren't I? When your legs were spread 
so wide, I could see your, what do I say, Mala?" 

"My cunt?" Mala asked. "That's a lovely fabric in my shorts, so soft and 
clingy. And no fly up the front, no zipper; they just pull on. They feel 
almost like being naked." 

The well-built little woman laughed tremulously. "God, I'd love to see you 
doing that, flying across the lawn, I mean, with your ass bare! It makes my 
tongue hard, just thinking about it." She turned away, then came back to 
look at Mala with a tender smile. 

"You'll have to get it from someone," she said. "It's not the boss; I know 
him too well. And you've got too much smarts in your head to fuck around at 
school. And it can't be Jerry. What am I saying-it can't be Jerry? A big kid 
like that? Oh, my God! How wonderful! How wonderful for him! Oh, Mala! God 
bless you!" 

Struck dumb by the precision, the positive feeling of Mae Charles's words, 
Mala could only stand still, one hand outstretched as if in some mute plea. 
Her heart ached. She felt suddenly deprived; to have another person learn so 
quickly of her liaison with Jerry was too much. 

But she had underestimated the character of the lovely little person who 
looked at her with such compassion and understanding. Once again, she found 
herself in close embrace with the housekeeper, but now it was Mae who 
furnished support. 

"You're such a darling," the little woman whispered. "Did you think I'd ever 
spoil that for you? Or for Jerry? Never! Oh, that sweet kid! Would you 
believe? I've seen his cock. It's fantastic, isn't it?" 

She hugged Mala again, and her eyes were warm and soft. "He was jerking off. 
In the gymnasium. If it hadn't been for startling him to death, I'd have 
come down on him so heavy! Ohhh! I'd have sucked his balls right up through 
his tubes!" 

She laughed, a shaky, tender little laugh, know you'll be good to him, my 
dear," the little woman said. "And good for him, too! And if I can 
help-well, just ask, hear?" 

This time she turned and marched resolutely into the big house, and Mala, 
her face kind and tender, watched her go, the perfectly sculpture little 
ass, so explicitly feminine in its rounded, divided beauty. She thought of 
the fat, warm, slick little pussy hiding between those firm thighs, and was 
warmed by a flush of heat that swept over her. "Another couple of meetings 
like this, Mala baby," she said to herself in a whisper, "and you'll be 
swinging both ways!" 

She saw from the driveway that Jerry's car, an old but finely tuned 
Cadillac, was not in the garage yard, and she strolled slowly back to the 
cottage. She felt as ebullient as ever, but the strange encounter with 
little Mae Charles had set up a soft glow of inner heat in her cunt, and she 
wanted to let it cool down. It was still early, at least two or three hours 
before dinner, and she ached to see the tall boy, to do what she had 
promised. 

She rounded a very large planting of native shrubbery and desert plants and 
stopped, inclined to laugh, but strangely touched. 

The old Caddy was parked next to her little Triumph, and Jerry, now in a 
pair of surfer trunks, was washing her car. 

He looked up, smiling like an angel as he saw Mala, and she immediately 
walked over and pressed herself against him, her right arm around his broad 
young shoulders, her left hand going down to his crotch, feeling for his 
cock. His mind had apparently been on her as well as on her car, for it was 
almost hard, run out nearly to its full length, and he moved against her 
tight grip as if he were fucking into her hand. 

She pulled back to look at him, her eyes like stars, her breath catching. 
"You're so beautiful, Jerry," she whispered. "Let's get that load out of 
you!" 

"I can't believe this is really me, Mala," the kid said soberly as he 
followed her into the guest house. "Never had a girl, except to take some 
dummy to kid parties, never had a piece of, uh, pussy." He colored and 
dropped his eyes, and Mala, who had quickly pulled the shirt over her head, 
took his face between her hands and kissed him gently, running the tip of 
her tongue between her lips. 

"Look at these," she said huskily, pushing her breasts up into tighter 
cones, with their brown areolas and hard nipples begging for a kiss. "I said 
they were for you, remember? You've got to believe me. Listen, Jerry, I'm 
not just using you because I'm real hot and haven't got a man." She had an 
idea, and reached out again to rub at his concealed tool, finding it a bit 
harder. 

"Why didn't you stick your fingers up into me when we walked in?" she asked 
softly. "These shorts aren't armor, you know." She giggled. "Any 
enterprising fellow could hook a finger under the strap and at least get a 
little smell of cunt on him." 

He answered with an inarticulate cry that was like a sob, and leaned against 
her blindly, putting his big boy's hands under her butt, pressing the cheeks 
so hard that they inevitably pressed on the outer cushions of her pussy, 
giving her a warm, crowded feeling. 

"I know what your trouble is, darling," Mala whispered. "You weren't sure of 
me, were you? like you said, you didn't think it could be happening to you. 
Well, it's happened. And if you want to know, I'm the lucky one! I mean it. 
So quit wasting time, because I want to show you that fucking can be many 
things, and all of them wonderful!" 

She placed his hands on her waistband. "Pull 'em off, baby," she choked. 
"What's under them is yours; go find it!" 

He seemed to realize that this was no dream, but absolutely real, and he 
dropped to his knees, dragging the shorts down to his feet, and held them 
while she stepped out. His face was pressed against her nest of blonde cunt 
hair, and he rooted with his nose in the upper part of her slit, his breath 
tickling her in that most tender crevice. 

He looked up at her with a shining face. "Baby," he cried, "Let's get it 
on!" 

He had an incredible native knowledge, Mala thought as he placed her on the 
big bed and pulled her legs gently apart, getting her knees up so that her 
thighs would sag open, leaving her cunt such an easily reached target. 

"It's beautiful," he breathed, bending to kiss it, getting cunt juice 
slicked onto his lips and chin, licking it in and going down for another, 
stronger, longer kiss, a real suck, actually, that made her bump her ass up 
and down as she clenched her hands in ecstasy. 

"Let me have your cock," she whispered. "Jerry, my dear, is it really true 
that you've never done any of this? Never fucked, never been sucked, never 
saw a live woman naked?" 

He rested partly between her strong thighs, one hand on each of her knees, 
grinning down at he across her rounded belly, across the smooth valley 
between her tits. "Unless you count that girl at the party," he said. "I was 
just one guy away from her when I decided not to try it. I almost had my 
nose in her ass. I saw her, all right." 

He was having a marvelous time, Mala thought. Being a man of the world. How 
marvelous that he could so quickly adapt to a level of sex that should have 
been, in fact, some years ahead of him! She saw his red-tipped cock, a hard 
bar of meat, nodding in rhythm to his heartbeats just a few inches from her 
rump. 

"Do you want me to suck it a little before we put it in?" she asked softly. 
"Do you think, you may be too hot?" 

She held out a hand to him as though asking support as well as giving it, 
and he kissed her palm. "I don't want to cum too fast," he said. "That's no 
good for either of us, is it?" His brown eyes were tender, concerned. 
Beautiful! 

"Put your finger in me," she breathed. "I want to show you something." 

She let it go all the way in, a tantalizing deliciously cum-itchy feeling. I 
could cum as soon as that cock touches me, she acknowledged in her mind. But 
I want him to be pleased, to be happy with himself. 

Now, very carefully, she worked some of these muscles which had been 
developing ever since she took her first exercises on a tumbling mat. It 
gave her a deep, gut-felt joy, using those sensitive cords of soft sexual 
tissue to grasp and writhe around his knuckles. "How does that feel, baby?" 
she asked. "How would that make your lovely cock feel?" 

The boy's face was strained with the effort of riot giving in to a desire. 
"I'd pop my nuts in two seconds," he said desperately. "I couldn't stand 
it!" 

Mala's body was gently heaving, not entirely a matter of her choice. It was 
almost too much for her, too. She felt the slow trickle of her cunt's inner 
flow leaking out, down into the extremely sensitive area between vaginal 
orifice and anus, an itching so painfully pleasurable that she had to tense 
her entire body to defend against the craving to drive her fingers into that 
palpitating crack. And then, out of the storm of her sensuality there came a 
trace of humor. 

She sat up so quickly that she almost knocked Jerry over, and hugged him 
without caring whether or not she rubbed against his straining cock, just 
hugging him and laughing. 

"Look," she said to his puzzled but happy face, "we're acting like a couple 
of damned misers, as though we never would have another chance to enjoy that 
wonderful feel of getting our rocks off, right? Listen, my wonderful little 
friend, how many times can you shoot that big, hot fun-gun?" She gave his 
cock a little shake, and he no longer felt that he was on the ragged edge of 
cumming. 

He grinned. "I know what you mean, Mala," he said. "Even if I shot off 
before I got it in you, we could still have fun, we could work around and I 
could get it hard again, and then we wouldn't be in such a hurry. And I 
could still make you cum by sticking my fingers in you, or sucking you out 
or, oh, lots of things." 

He was so delighted, so carried away with his ideas, that Mala took his cock 
in her hand, bent quickly down, and gave it a hard, tongue washing, loving 
suck, pulling her mouth off it to look at him triumphantly. "There you go!" 
she said. "Not a throb out of it, and I gave you a real suck!" She rolled on 
to her back again, knees up. thighs apart. 

"Now," she said, "I'll finish showing you what I started out to show you. 
Remember how I was cracking your knuckles with my cunt? Now, put your finger 
in." With precise skill, handling each muscle around her cuntal door 
separately, she made herself go completely slack. Even the itching fire of a 
near-cum subsided in the face of this imperative quieting down; she had room 
for all his fingers. 

Looking faintly curious, Jerry pushed and pulled, his finger making a 
sloshy, sloppy noise. "All the grab is gone," he said. "You're not pinching 
my finger." 

"Put in two fingers," Mala said. "No, get all four of your fingers together, 
and go in slow I want to show you what practice can do to a girl's twat." 

Incredulously, he watched his combined four fingers, backed by his thumb 
tucked in between, go clear to his palm before it felt opposition. "Geez!" 
he whispered. "Could I get my whole hand in you? It feels like it! 

"Push hard," Mala gasped. She was getting hot again, but didn't care. This 
was training, this was to show the boy something few women could do, that 
few men had ever seen. Freakish though it was, it would do him good to 
believe the unbelievable. "Push! Now pull out, just a little! Now, push 
again!" 

She had learned the secret of this complete muscle control from the two 
coaches of a team from India, the girls' coach and the men's team leader. It 
had started as a bit of fun, and then the two semi-mystics from the 
sex-oriented Far East had come to love and respect this blonde American kid. 
But she had not gone so far as this in a long time. His hand was now almost 
in, his fingers jarring her cervix. 

She felt that her body might turn to flame at any moment. It was not like a 
fast, hard, pent-up cum, when tongues of fire seem to shoot out from her 
swollen, happy clit, but a straining heat in her breasts, in her throat, 
under her arms, down her flanks, into the crack of her ass, all up her 
petaled sex channel where the red labia seemed hugely swollen, ready to 
burst with blood and frantic ecstasy. 

If I cum now, I'll break his hand, she warned herself, and the 
responsibility calmed her. 

"Work your fingers up and down," she whispered, smiling at him weakly. "What 
do you feel?" 

"Something round and hard and slick," he said. "It's got a tiny hole in it. 
No, not a hole, it's like a slit. like in the head of my cock," he said 
excitedly. 

He was closing his fingers around it, caressing it with brutal thoroughness, 
as she would squeeze a girl's titty, and the sensation was devastating Mala 
could only lie with her eyes shut, her mouth opening and closing, and feel a 
tide of electric heat run through her body, seeming to open her like some 
huge, devouring cunt. 

"Pull your hand out, baby. Real slow. Real easy. Ohhhh! Oh, my God! Hold me 
down! Hold me down! Let me cummmm!" 

The big boy had built a sensitivity to her needs that made him react simply, 
quickly. Without thinking, he plunged his mouth to her cunt, spread wide 
open by the withdrawal of his hand, and kept it there while her body 
thrashed and her throat seemed to split with her cries of anguished 
pleasure. 

The girl-juice, thick, sweet, slippery, seemed to pour from her dark-red 
cunt in a gush, and te swallowed steadily not wanting to let one precious 
drop escape. 

"She's cumming! he said to himself as he sucked, and knew such a deep 
satisfaction in making her body, her mind, her soul go through these deep 
spasms that he said it aloud, against the muffling swellings of engorged 
membrane: "She's cumming! She's cumming!" 

He was so proud of making her cum that he was very tender with her. He lay 
by her, holding her body, which still trembled uncontrollably, while she hid 
her face on his chest and sobbed, trying to get oxygen into her starved 
lungs. 

At last, when she had control of herself again, she looked up at him, almost 
as if he were the teacher, and she the pupil. "That was pretty wild, wasn't 
it?" she asked. Her voice was still uncertain. "Oooohh!" her body jerked 
briefly. "That was another one. I seemed to cum for a half-hour!" She kissed 
him. "Baby, you sure got a mouthful of female cum!" 

"I got a bellyful," he said happily. "Wow! That was so great, Mala! I had my 
whole hand up you! Clear out of sight inside your belly! Your cunt!" His 
tone was worshipful. 

"Don't ever tell anybody," she said, smiling. "They won't believe you. God, 
I'd forgotten that feeling!" She shuddered and clutched his arm with both 
hands. "I just seem to keep on cumming. Your hand on my womb! God!" 

He was excited. "That was your womb?" he wanted to know. "That hard, slick 
little thing? Golly, Mala, that's where babies grow?" he was so interested 
that she wondered if his hard-on had disappeared, but, when she fumbled for 
it, it was still like a flexible core of hard rubber, sheathed in 
super-soft, thick skin. 

She frigged him gently, smiling, thinking her own deep, warm, happy 
thoughts. "You came out of one just like that, Jerry," she assured him. "You 
dad planted a seed in your mom." 

He began to laugh. "Cut it out, Mala," he said. "We're not in some dumb sex 
education class Wow! My Old Man fucked my Old Lady! Whee! That must have 
been good! He shot his jism into her, it went into her womb, and out I 
came!" 

Mala looked at him with deep affection. "Most boys don't take it that 
easily," she said. "They don't want to think that their wonderful mother 
does that dirty stuff. That fucking." 

"Hah!" he said. "You ought to see my mom naked! She's got a body as good as 
yours. Man! Her tits are just great!" He fell silent. "Maybe I'm getting 
carried away," he said sheepishly. 

Mala shook his cock. "Look how you've held on to that load," she said 
admiringly. "You know what I was trying to show you a while ago?" 

"No. It was great, but I don't know why you did it." 

"Remember how we were? Both of us, about to cum too quick? And I squeezed 
your fingers with my Little Juicy?" 

He patted the wet, open cunt. "Yeah. And then you opened it up-whoa! Could 
you make it big like that so it didn't jerk and squeeze my prick?" 

"Yes!" she said. "Yes! You could put it in, I could lie still, we could just 
let your wonderful cock soak; soak until it got used to the feel, used to 
the heat. And then-oh, baby! Then we could fuck and fuck and fuck!" She was 
bumping up at him again, and stopped, laughing. "There I go," she said. 
"Hey, you never told me how many times you could cum." 

"I know," he said. He looked thoughtful, sitting between her opened thighs, 
rubbing his smooth body warmly against her. "Sometimes, when I seem to be 
full of it, I've jerked off as much as, well, maybe four times in a day. 
Jerking off was all I could do," he explained. 

She held him by squeezing her knees together. "You'll never have to jerk off 
again, not for the next five years," she promised him. "And by that time, 
you'll have girls jumping out from under your bed, out of your clothes 
closet!" 

He laughed. "None of 'em will ever be as good as you," he said. "Hey, let's 
put it in, want to?" 

He had gained confidence, and now he got on his knees, aiming his big cock 
with one hand, using the other to hold open the thick, hairy lips, which had 
begun to close again. 

"Put it in easy," Mala said thickly. "Oh, God, how I want it! I hope you've 
got it under control. I feel like I might bounce your ass against the 
ceiling!" Her body quivered. 

"Oh, man, this is great," he said. His cock was going into her; he was 
watching the thick, pink labia go into the cunt, dragged by the friction of 
his big cock. It was marvelous. "It feels-it feels-oh, Jesus, Mala, don't 
pinch it!" 

"I'm trying!" she gasped. "Hang loose! Don't shove so hard. Hold it in 
there, easy!" 

In spite of her efforts at control, it was very hard not to let her ravening 
cunt go berserk. Her nerve-ends, rasped to a point of super-joy by that 
massive insertion of his hand, cried out against being held apart by her 
willpower. 

Suddenly, so easily that she giggled, control came back. 

"Whoo-ee!" gasped the boy. "That's more like it. It feels as big as a 
bucket. But good and hot an slick. And kind of throbbing, too. How do you do 
that, Mala?" 

"I don't," she whispered. "God does, or whoever made us like we are. That's 
just an automatic response. I can walk around with a ballpoint pen in my 
snatch, and never drop it. And if I were in practice, you could get your 
whole fist up me. But even then, it'd throb. Say, Jerry, you feel good in 
there! You've got a real man's cock! Are you all right?" 

He moved his powerful young loins, the rub of his cock inside her sheath 
giving her a flush of warm delight. "I'm okay. I felt like cumming a minute 
ago, but this soaking in that sweet little hole, it's kind of saved me. Wow, 
is this ever good!" He pumped slowly, raising his strong young buttocks 
until the head of his cock was just at her vaginal rim, and pushed in, all 
the way. "I'm bumping against your womb," he said proudly. "Can you feel 
it?" He hammered in again. 

Her body, pushing up her warm belly, trembling against his, her bush of damp 
pubic hair, mingling with his, gave him her answer. His loins could feel 
where her strong thighs joined her perfect torso. He rubbed against it, 
seeing their joining in his mind-the cunt, hot and sweated and raw with heat 
and nerve-stretch, its thick red lips pulling out as he pulled out, its 
clear juice following, wetting his balls; the column of his cock going in 
dark with his raised blood heat, coming out slick and shining with the juice 
from inside her cunt, deep in there where the womb lay hidden, where his 
fingers had pinched and pushed at its hard slickness. 

"It's tightening up again," he whispered nervously. "My cock's beginning to 
swell up and itch. I know how it feels when I'm about to shoot it." 

"What do you care?" she asked fiercely. "You've made me cum a couple of 
times since you've had it in; do you know that? You're banging my womb, 
stretching the end of my vagina!" 

The kid began to laugh. 

"What's so funny?" Mala asked. 

"I never heard you call it a vagina before," he said. "What happened to your 
cunt?" 

He banged into her very solidly, very purposefully, and kept it up, rising 
high so that the top of his cock dragged at her clitoris, building a burst 
that would shake her apart, as she well knew. 

She had her legs around his, now, holding him tight, so that his motions 
were restricted, but his mound ground on hers. 

He was rotating his hips, his hard cock stirring in her, around and around, 
hitting all her walls rubbing and jabbing at her cervix, and her voice was 
rising along with her heat. 

She felt a huge wave of cum heat flash through her, and opened her mouth to 
scream, but hi young mouth came down on hers, covering it, so she screamed 
into him, blowing up her feeling of being filled and made happy by the 
build-up of cunt-power, of the crazy need to cum. Her ass was tight with her 
exertions, the clench of her buttocks was in the same delightful rhythm with 
the pulsing of her cunt. Once again, as when his finger was inside of her, 
those muscles of love were on their own, driven by the fierce pangs of 
pleasure that made the rub of his cock so incredibly wonderful. 

There was a steady, palpitating roll of cunt around the boy's cock, and he 
had long since given up any effort to hold back. Seconds seemed like hours 
as the fire of orgasm ran its fiery trace from his balls to the tight, 
blood-filled head of his organ; the sucking and grinding of her vagina gave 
every crying nerve in his glans a powerful urge to flow, to shoot, to pour 
his seed into this female receptacle, so that he too was groaning as his 
lust flowered and burst. 

Her legs were losing their grip as cunt-heat and cum-juice flowed out of 
her, as her belly shook and trembled, and her taut muscles, tightening and 
relaxing, tightening and relaxing, continued to give his prick its 
constantly sucking, pulsing, pulling caresses, milking him, milking his 
pounding cock as the long, fierce jets of sperm poured out of him and into 
her, draining him of semen and feeling and energy. 

He lay with his full weight on her body, and her breasts, vastly swollen by 
her heat and her tremendous orgasm, sensitive with the same sort of sex-glow 
that warmed her relaxing, free flowing pussy, knew the gut-stirring joy of 
deep sex pain, a run of heat from their trembling weight, their silken 
smoothness, all the way across her belly and down to her crotch, where weak 
and dying rumbles of lust still echoed in the slick, gooey sleeve which 
still embraced the boy's dick, now slowly, reluctantly diminishing. 

They had stopped kissing, just as they had stopped screaming, because there 
was nothing more to say, not after that massive burst of cum-power, but both 
were conscious, in their half-dazed state of voluptuous pleasure, that the 
final vestiges of her tightness were gradually squeezing the last remains of 
his hard-on out of her. It slipped a little and then stopped, and both were 
happily aware of the feel of hot flesh on hot flesh, of tired but happy 
nerves on each other. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

He had completely lost all self-consciousness, Mala noted with deep pride. 
Pride for him, pride for herself. It couldn't be easy for a young, sensitive 
boy to convert so quickly to the earthy interchange of male and female. Some 
men, as she knew, never made it. But Jerry Jonas did. 

"I've got to piss," he said, sitting up, giving her an affectionate spank on 
the smoothness of her rump as she lay on her side. 

"Let me kiss him, first," Mala said, caressing his prick. She was joyful to 
be asking, and, by asking, to further solidify the foundation of adulthood 
and equality she was trying to build for them both. 

She looked up at him as she sucked him, noting the film of clean sweat all 
over him, enjoying the sharp smell of lust that hung between them. Her own 
cunt flavors were rubbed into his dark pubic hair, slathered on this large, 
soft cock she was sucking so gently, so firmly, and it thrilled her, as it 
always had. To be a woman, to have a mature cunt, to generate the richness 
of taste and aroma that sex and sex organs gave, that was a contemplation 
which made her grateful in every fiber. 

His testicles, quite large for a boy of fifteen which had been drawn so 
tightly against his pole as the storm of cumming grew in them, now hung low 
in their relaxed sac, and she took them softly into her hand, holding their 
weight, loving their for what they were, the atomic energy which made this 
boy a natural adept at the slogging, lusty joy of fucking. 

"It tastes so good," she sighed, taking the limp but still fat organ from 
her lips. "Some of me on it, and some of you. I love the taste of your cum." 

He stood above her, happy, feeling like a real man for the first time in his 
life. "If you lie on your back," he said, "I can suck up a lot of it for you 
right out of your pussy." He laughed. "It ought to be nice and warm. Would 
you like that?" 

Since it was exactly what she had been hoping, the idea struck through her 
with a little flash of cunt pleasure, and she hugged him hard around his 
naked hips, pressing her face into the soft and aromatic bush of hair. 

With an athlete's ease and precision, she rolled back, holding her cunt lips 
open, willfully dramatizing the raw glory of her genitals. There was a hard 
glare of late afternoon sun coming into the room; she knew that her vaginal 
orifice, gaping open after her breathtaking orgasm, would throw back a live 
glow like red neon. And that lumps of drying semen would lie like little 
gifts of taste and savor in the troughs of her inner lips, now returning to 
normal size and appearance. 

The boy lowered his shining face between the raised thighs, glanced up just 
once to smile into her delighted eyes, and softly placed his lips around the 
open hole, usually so primly closed by the little pink bubbles of slick 
membrane. 

He made his first suck hard and long lasting, as she had hoped he would, and 
it gave her a brief burst of orgasmic joy. 

He knee-walked up to her face and leaned above her, smiling, holding his 
mouth tightly shut. 

With a little moan of joy, she reached up and took his head in her arms, 
pulling him down, getting her mouth on his, going in between his lips with 
her tongue, opening a tiny sluice for the jism to leak into her mouth, over 
her taste buds, getting that first slickness, that richness of flavor, his 
and hers. 

Simply because it seemed so right, she felt for his cock and found it, 
holding it gently, squeezing as she sipped their combined cum-flow. It was a 
soft, warm handful, and she milked at it with tenderness and feeling, going 
clear up to his belly with each stroke, her thumb and first finger meshing 
in the wetness of the hair at the base of his cock. All of it was hers to 
have and love, the closeness of this warm, smooth skinned boy, the fertile 
rankness of the smells from his secret places and from hers, the glories of 
the flesh, even to the hair under his arms and under hers. 

There was the steamy acridity of sweat, sharp as wild onions, and the faint 
nitric aroma of urine. Some day, she thought, I'll lie in the tub and have 
this big boy stand over ME AND PISS IN MY FACE. 

It was such a heady thought that she gulped and sucked in the last few drops 
of the mixture of semen and girl-flow, and almost cried out in exasperation. 
But it had a compensation. 

As she frequently did when she was excited and loose with the forces of 
lust, her bladder had leaked a dozen or more golden drops of her urine into 
the lips of her twat. 

She kissed the boy and whispered: "One more suck, my darling; there's some 
more cum still up me!" and shivered with expectant lechery as the compliant 
lad moved around to where she held her legs back her cunt apart. It was 
chicken shit, in a mild way, since he was too drunk on sex to care and too 
innocent to know. A little of my piss can't hurt him she told herself 
determinedly. 

Sooner or later, he'll have to drink a quart of it! And anyhow, I want a 
taste! 

To her deep joy, he made a very visible jerk, or leap, as he sucked in 
something new, but immediately plowed his face into her streaming slit with 
more vigor, and his tongue's play proved that he was showing appreciation 
for something, even if he didn't know what it was. 

This time, when he came back with his pursed lips in a smile of fervid 
beauty, and put his mouth to hers, she tasted the harshly aphrodisiac bite 
of her very own piss, mixed with the tapioca slickness of the buds of 
semi-solid cum that he had dredged out of her with his tongue. 

Without asking, she walked into the bathroom with him and stood by him, her 
hip touching his buttocks, holding and aiming his cock as it swelled and 
throbbed to eject the golden stream from his bladder. He laughed happily as 
she squeezed it, turning his head and leaning down to kiss her. He was 
saying "thanks," she knew, for his raunchy, complete introduction to sex, 
and she caught her trembling lower lip between her teeth as she thought of 
the days to come, when she would draw him deeper and deeper into a more 
kinky type of sex. He was so wonderful now that she could not be sure she 
wanted him to change; she had known of men who, once they had gone over the 
line of normality, either could not or would not call a halt. 

She looked at Jerry with a mother's smile, and asked softly: "Do boys wipe 
with toilet paper? and felt not at all guilty as she feigned innocence. 
knowing that the boy needed to be in a position of leading, or thinking he 
was leading. 

He held her soft, warm hand on his dick and flipped it, showing what boys 
did. "Oh, you shake it!" she cried. "You shake off that last drop! Oh, it's 
so pretty!" 

Her guts ached with the pleasant aftermath of this intense fuck, so much 
better than she ever dared expect from a boy. There was still a motion of 
sucking deep inside her; it was the time she loved, when a truly resounding 
orgasm had cleared her, at least temporarily, of the demands of lust. 

She went to the bed and lay against a couple of enormous pillows, and 
watched him with deep pleasure and satisfaction as he leaned, unconcerned, 
to look at his face in the mirror of the tall antique dresser. "I feel so 
good," she said in a low, quiet voice. "So very, very good, my dear! Do you 
know it's almost time for dinner?" 

He threw himself down beside her. "I'll have a hell of an appetite tonight," 
he said. "I hope you haven't spoiled your appetite, swallowing that jism. 
It's pretty rich stuff, isn't it?" 

She patted his prick, now boyishly soft again, soft and sweet. 

"I've been swallowing it ever since I was ten years old," she said boldly, 
determining to solidify the basis of reality on which their friendship 
rested. "It never spoiled my appetite yet!" She watched his face as he took 
in the fact that she had belonged, in sex, to many others, and rejoiced when 
his reaction was a quick smile. 

"I guess girls have it better than boys," he said. "All they have to do is 
lie down and pull their panties off, and there'll always be some guy to take 
care of them. Boys have to suck around, and buy 'em stuff, and take 'em to 
dances. And then, nine times out of ten, they laugh at you when you try to 
take hold of them. Get your finger in their cunts, I mean." 

Mala pulled him down to her and kissed him. "Aren't you even going to ask 
who introduced me to sucking and fucking?" she asked. "Put your hand over my 
pussy," she requested. "Not hard; you don't have to stick a finger into it; 
just give it a little tender loving pressure." 

He laughed delightedly. "All right, you don't want to talk about girls 
having it easier than boys. Getting it easier than boys, I should say." He 
laughed at his little joke. "So tell me, who got you started?" 

"I did," Mala answered promptly. "And you and every other boy who lets a 
girl's 'no' put him down is out of his gourd. I don't believe there's a girl 
alive who, somehow, somewhere in her, doesn't want to get fucked. Or rather, 
I expect they want to fuck someone, to give of themselves. I'll bet there 
are a few guys in your school, even in your group, who instinctively know 
this, am I right? 

They're the guys who get all the fucking they need, and more." 

"Y-e-e-s," Jerry said slowly. He was unconsciously working a finger into the 
sweetly hum i cleft just where it began, in the thick mound of soft tissue 
that held the thickest part of Males blonde cunt hair. "I know a couple. 
They don't talk about it much. They never say they've fucked some girl. But 
other guys, fellows who go down to Garth's farm when there's a gang-fuck 
going, or a group-grope, or just a plain old get-together, see these guys 
with their chicks. That's one way you know they've screwed so-and-so. But 
there's another way." 

He laughed, and his voice was thick with interest, so Mala didn't prod him. 

"You know what it is? The girls tip it off! I never thought of it until now, 
right this minute! Wow!" 

He snuggled down alongside the woman's breast, hefting the weight of the one 
nearest him, his breath coming quicker, and took a long, sweet, kissing suck 
at the nipple, shrunken in size from what the fuck had left it, and turned 
his face to kiss into the-haired sweetness of her armpit. "It's like a 
cunt," he whispered. "Isn't it? That's why girls let hair grow under their 
arms. What do you think?" 

"Maybe," Mala answered, playing with his brown curls, damp with his sweat. 
"Maybe it's just that they like to be natural. Tell me how the girls tip it 
off." 

"Why, hell!" the boy cried. "I'm so fucking dumb. I bet I can tell you 
almost every girl who's been fucked in our school. And what guy fucked her. 
Yes, sir, it's a cinch!" 

He looked away, collecting his thoughts, then turned back. "Take a guy, 
let's call him Timmy Schultz. Girls like him, and he-likes them, but he 
doesn't go steady. All of a sudden, some little chickie, say her name's 
Lennia Bruce, starts to come up to Timmy every chance she gets, walking down 
the hall, coming out of a class, on the campus, by the buses, and she just 
stands by him and looks at him like she could eat him up. Not jealous-or 
what's the word?" 

"Possessive," Mala supplied. 

"Yeah! Possessive! Not possessive, I mean. Just sweet, like she loved him. 
Putting her arm around him, looking up at him like he was the only guy in 
the world. Yes, and bringing him a Coke in the cafeteria or at a ball game. 
Then, a week or two later, without any breakup at all, there's a new girl 
following old Timmy around, hugging him, patting him, bringing him stuff! 
And the first girl doesn't seem to mind. That's funny!" 

In his excitement at the discovery, Jerry had sat up, but Mala pulled him 
down again, his body smooth and warm against hers, their sweat now drying, 
leaving their closely contacted skins with a dry, warm humanity of feeling 
that made Mala shiver. 

"Not so funny," she said with a smile. "The girl wanted it. Which is like I 
said. They liked Timmy but what they wanted was to become women, to feel 
that marvelous sense of being attached to a man-a boy-by one of these 
wonderful gadgets She stroked his prick, holding it up, letting it drop in 
its warm, fat limpness. "And Timmy knew this. He didn't take advantage of 
the girl, or of her nature. He simply saw that something very lovely and 
loving was ripe and ready to be plucked." 

"Whew!" Jerry blew his breath out noisily. "I'd like to pluck a few of them, 
myself! There's some real choice chicks in Oakdale. Hey, you aren't getting 
the idea that these guys are cherry pickers, are you?" he asked. "Most of 
these girls are around thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Don't you suppose 
they've been fucked before?" 

"Maybe so, maybe not. What difference does it make? Do you think it's wrong 
for a guy to get a maidenhead? Or a girl to give one up? Hoto! They're an 
embarrassing nuisance. Most girls break them with their fingers, or a 
hairbrush handle, or a douche nozzle, just to get rid of them." 

Jerry looked slightly dazed, but his young cock had grown slightly, just in 
the last few minutes. "What a waste," he muttered. "It would be so great to 
break one!" 

He turned to Mala, gripping her fiercely, kissing her hard, running his 
tongue deep into her surprised mouth. His left hand automatically went down 
between her thighs, so warm and gently sweated where they pressed together, 
and his hand, rough and demanding, spread her cunt so suddenly that she 
jerked and heaved, trying to escape. His long right arm was clear around 
her, under her shoulders, and he forced it further so that his hand could 
grab her breast in a painful, happy grip. 

Glad of what was happening, once she realized its portent, Mala pressed 
herself closer to his smooth, heated body, opening her thighs and humping 
her bottom to make the slippery grip of her cunt available to the boy's 
fingers. 

He held her for long, long seconds, furiously tonguing her, fucking his 
ringers in and out of her suddenly fired-up pussy, in a paroxysm of youthful 
lust. 

He let her go and sat up, grinning, wiping her spit and his from his lips, 
making a big show of sniffing at his dripping fingers, then of licking off 
the cooling glaze of cunt-oil from his fingers. 

"You tried to get your whole hand in, didn't you, Jer?" Mala said. "You 
know, I'm not loose unless I forced myself to relax and open up." 

Immediately, his boyish face fell. "Golly, I'm sorry, Mala," he said 
earnestly. "I didn't mean to hurt you!" 

She patted his prick, now much fatter, and smiled. "Don't worry, baby," she 
said. "Outside of some murderous guy really trying to ruin a girl, it's hard 
to damage one of these." She patted her pussy. "And hurting a little bit, I 
mean for a guy to get hot and rough and just a little over-eager, is some of 
the best fun there is. I know a couple of things that, well, things we can 
do later. Hey, look at the time! We have to go to dinner!" 

They walked hand in hand to the big house, Mala in a thin summer dress that 
gave tier breasts full play to swing and jounce and jiggle, and their hard 
rub against the fabric made her nipples pop out. 

Jerry had suggested it might be better if he left first and went in through 
the kitchen. "Old Miz Charles might start wondering about us," he said, so 
like a small boy that Mala hugged him and kissed his cheek. 

"What would you think if I told you that you could fuck 'Old Miz Charles' as 
you call her and that it'd be wonderful?" she asked him. 

He stopped short and looked at her as if she were crazy. 

"You've got to be kidding!" he exploded. laughing. "Why, she's older than my 
mom! A woman that old!" and then he blushed. 

"You've thought about it, haven't you?" Mala guessed shrewdly. "What did you 
do see her naked, too?" 

Jerry began to laugh and cupped his hand under the firm cheek of her ass, 
wiggling his fingers in between, into the softness between her legs, feeling 
warm, slick moisture strike through the light fabric. "Man, you know it!" he 
gasped. "And you're right, too; I did think about it. You know 
something-she's not bad." 

He stood still in thought for a moment, then said: "Hey, Mala, what're you 
trying to do, get rid of me? Listen, just because I said I'd like to stick 
it into some of those little chickies at school hey, that was just talk. 
None of them's half as good as you. I'll bet on that!" 

She took his arm affectionately. "Jerry, I promise you, if I could help you 
get one of those kids, I'd do it in a minute. And maybe I can. Girls talk to 
me; they'd better. If I'm going to coach any gymnast, they have to talk to 
me." 

They are in a large, bright room which was actually a bay on the big formal 
dining room, with a view out across the lawns to the surrounding ring of 
ancient oaks and Monterrey pines. Mrs. 

Charles served them, as well as Mr. Charles, and then sat down with them 
without self-consciousness. Mala was interested to see that the cuddly 
little woman had changed into a less severe dress, a blue cotton with a deep 
scoop neck, and with more room for her big, soft breasts to show themselves. 
They had no sag, and Mala was impressed. 

When the meal was over, and it was getting dark, Mala said good night, 
smiling impartially around the table, and went out into the fragrant 
evening, listening to the whir of random insect the rustle of some small 
animal in the dead leaves in a thicket, deeply enjoying the scents and 
sounds and quiet of the soft darkness. 

She felt warm and content, in the way that only a full-blooded woman can 
know after a long and happy use of her body. 

"A lot to be said for fucking in the afternoon," she murmured to herself, 
half aloud. "Gives you a chance to think about it, feel it again, enjoy it 
all over for the second time." 

She suddenly was swept by a desire for sleep. It had been, after all, a long 
day, a hard day, a day of surprises. And of the deepest sort of 
satisfactions. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

What awakened Mala, she was never exactly sure. She liked to sleep in a very 
short shortie nightgown, so full that it seemed naturally to climb up around 
her neck, above her boobs as she slept, so that she was essentially naked. 
The big bed was comfortable, exactly the degree of firmness she liked, the 
big pillows were perfect, the lightweight blanket and the smooth percale 
sheets lending their touch to luxury and sensuality. 

"A bed like this almost seems to suck a girl right into sleep," she 
whispered to herself, just before she closed her eyes. 

It must have been quite late, well after midnight, when she sat bolt upright 
in bed. She was not afraid; her entire approach to the world was one of 
inviting curiosity, and she generally returned to consciousness as though 
she were keeping an appointment for something pleasant and exciting. 

Whatever remnants there remained of Jerry'? semen, along with her own 
regular flow of girl juice, had coagulated to form a light seal from he 
vaginal portal to the very top of her warm slit But in sitting up, the 
softly muscled cheeks of he lovely ass had spread, and this fragrantly glue 
protection had given up, sending a shiver of pleasure through her sleepy but 
sexually alert body. 

She lay quietly, thinking that no one could get into her snug little domain, 
but then began to worry about whether she had checked the three doors, the 
main entry on the north, toward the big house; her service door at the back, 
on the east side; and the big sliding glass door of her bedroom, which 
opened on a small formal garden. 

No matter how sexually experienced a woman may be, there is something 
degrading about the thought of rape by an unknown person and, while Mala 
Peters was a long way from a virginity, see was more free from the imagined 
despair and helplessness of a rape victim than she would have been at 
fifteen. 

She was about to reach for her telephone and make a call to the local 
sheriffs office when there was a scratching noise at her bedroom's wide 
screen and she heard a whisper: "Mala! Mala, are you awake?" 

She recognized the tall shadow against the moonlighted sward and unlatched 
the screen to welcome the big boy in, somewhat inclined to smile at his 
temerity. She had gone to sleep within an hour of dinner being over; it was 
her guess that Jerry, unable to get the scenes and smells and tastes and 
feels of the afternoon out of his boyish mind, had lain awake with an 
incipient hard-on which had finally sent him prowling in the night, a thirst 
for pussy. 

She opened her arms as he came in, and felt the warmth of his body through 
his clothes. She was right; he did have a most authoritative hard-on, and 
she kissed him with one hand on it, then disengaged her mouth to say: "What 
took you so long? I thought you'd never get here!" 

He giggled at the irony and sat on her bed beside her, putting his hand down 
between her thighs, into that warmest of places outside the body. 

"You said you didn't want me ever to jerk off again," he said, "and from 
what I know of you, you wouldn't say a thing like that if you didn't mean 
it." 

She pulled the drapes over the expanse of plate glass and once more latched 
the screen. She switched on a bedside lamp with a pink silk shade, the soft 
light giving a warm glow to her perfect skin. She stood between Jerry's 
thighs, put her arms around his neck, and whispered: "Feel me, baby. See if 
I'm ready enough for you!" 

He groaned in startled ecstasy as his fingers went into the warm, slick flow 
from her cunt. And a few days from now, buster, you might get a bloody 
shock, she thought wickedly, wondering just how maturely this smooth-cheeked 
lad would react to such a fact of life as a female's menses. Probably 
wouldn't do too badly; he's taken everything in stride so far." 

He was fumbling with his zipper with his other hand, keeping the first one 
busy in the softness, the lushly lubricated open part of her twat, and she 
whispered, "Let me!" and knelt before him, opening his fly, letting his big 
cock rear up. 

She could not hold back a small cry of triumphant lust as the red head 
popped up on its hard supporting column, and she went down on it, 
open-mouthed, so hard that it shocked her with the jar against the back of 
her throat. 

"Peel off, darling," she smiled, getting up. "Do you like my nightie? Or 
would you rather see me in the raw?" 

He placed his big, boyish hands on her hips pressed them against her, then 
ran them up along the curve of her waist, his thumbs going into the 
softness, the rich firmness of the lower part of her remarkable breasts, a 
look of dazed happiness on his face. "I still can't believe it," he said in 
hoarse whisper. "I still can't believe I can have all this, all this 
wonderful stuff, whenever I want it. 

Leave the gown on," he said. "It makes you look sexier. At least I think so. 
Listen, can I look at it real close? And then suck it?" 

She helped him with his clothes, and they lay down together, laughing, 
moving into different positions just for the love of hugging and kissing and 
touching; touching with hands, legs, arms, eyes, lips, even complete bodies. 

"This marvelous, unbelievable thing!" Mala crooned, holding the boy's cock 
to her breast, pressing its soft red head deep into the hot and sensitive 
flesh, pulling it away and up to kiss away the leaking drop of clear fluid 
in its little "eye." 

"I thought you were kidding about getting it up four or five times in a day. 
Not many grown men can do that. Damn few!" 

She pushed him over, laughing, and lifted one thigh quickly across his face, 
holding her pinkly dripping cunt open with thumbs and forefingers just at 
his mouth. 

"Oh, wait!" she cried, and leaped off the bed to switch on a brighter light. 
"Oh, I can see this in the mirror!" 

She opened herself over his eager mouth again, and by now she was so hot 
that a couple of drops of her cunt-ooze actually dripped from her 
spread-open lips. He strained his head up from the bed, getting a big 
mouthful of soft, slickly leaking cunt-flaps, and she felt the beat and wipe 
of his tongue in that super-sensitive area. 

"Oooohh, baby, suck me good," she whispered, watching the action of his 
cheeks and throat muscles in the mirror, at last closing her eyes in deep 
ecstasy. "Suck hard," she murmured. "And then you can stick that great big 
beautiful hard cock in me, and fuck me, and fuck me, and fuck me! OHHHHHHH! 
OH MY GOD! OHHHHHHHH! I'M CUUMMIIINNNGG!" 

He had wrapped his strong young arms around her thighs, holding her off his 
face, holding her in spite of the wild leaping and jerking of her body as 
the powerful thrust of orgasm whipped her body from head to foot. 

The cunt at his mouth, writhing so fiercely that her muscles seemed to be 
trying to swallow his tongue, was a sweet mine of taste and texture and 
savory, fuck-flavored aromas; the huge tendons in her strong thighs stood 
out where they joined the generously-haired cunt lips and belly. He knew 
just from his brief experience, that this wild storm would pass, and, when 
it did, he laid her softly on her face, then got up to turn off the overhead 
light. 

There was enough illumination for him to see and engrave on his memory the 
perfect beauty of her trained athlete's body; the straight back, so subtly 
muscled that it would have been a sculptor's dream; the soft, warm curves of 
her buttock as they rose gently from her hips; the almost invisible fuzz of 
blonde hair at the top of the deep cleft of her ass. There was the headiest 
miasma in the world rising from between those perfect globes. Ripening 
fuck-perfume from this afternoon, the subtle girl-scent of good soap and 
fresh sweat, the earthiness that hangs around the daintiest ass-hole, the 
throat-clogging scent of a freshly heated cunt, turned out wide open by 
nothing in the world but the body heat that spreads the come-find-me, 
come-fuck-me odors that arouse every warm-blooded mammal. 

The shaping of those gorgeous buttocks made a double curve just like the 
underside of her tits, the boy thought. They were bigger and firmer and had 
no nipples, but they surely were like tits. He wanted to say so, but he felt 
that this love of his was asleep, or resting after her powerful orgasm, so 
instead, he kissed, deep and hard, exactly where that compound curve 
intersected the sweet, straight line from the base of her spine down to her 
knees. 

In that soft and scented cavern, his lips pressed against the open fullness, 
the wet hairs, of her cunt lips, and he sat up and grinned, baring his white 
teeth as he licked the lightly flavored cunt smear from his lips. 

Carefully, he straddled her body just at its widest part, and fumbled his 
hard cock down into the dark intersection where he had thrust his mouth into 
the juiciness of Mala's pussy. 

I never knew a woman was built this way, he thought. Cunt at the back as 
well as at the front. 

He remembered some of the books and magazines he and his peers passed around 
from time to time. Shit, everyone knew about fucking dog fashion. How stupid 
can you get? This was just the same, only with the lady lying flat. 

Not because he needed to help his cock into that wet slot, but simply 
because he loved the warm feel of that ultra slick juice, those tender folds 
of membranous tissue so sloppy with the fresh dew of love, he fumbled with 
his fingers as he eased into her. 

He was amazed that his cock entered so well and so deeply, almost as much as 
if he were fucking her from the front, with her thighs raised. She was 
awake, too, and aware of what was happening, for her body began to heave and 
move, and he felt the powerful, sucking grip of those fantastic muscles 
inside her, and heard a throaty giggle of pleasure. 

Exalted, he lay on her back, getting the most from this complete contact of 
warm skin on warm skin, supporting much of his weight on his elbows while 
his hands pushed under her, under her softly mashed down breasts, edging 
under their softness, finding the expanded nipples, pinching their hardness 
in a wild gust of heat that made his cock swell with cum-promise, made his 
balls suddenly seem tight and overly full. 

"You doll," Mala whispered, and he could see the smile on her face, pressed 
against the sheet. "You're in me so deep! Can you feel that?" 

She heaved up and rotated her ass in a way that brought a cry of joy from 
the pleased youth "I hit your womb," he panted. "Oh, golly, Mala, I feel 
like I'm clear at the end of your cunt!" 

She worked her body gently, fucking up and down, her inner muscles laving 
and licking and drawing at his cock. "Let go of my boobs," she said 
hoarsely. "When I raise my butt, slide your fingers under my pussy, try to 
find my clit! Ooooh, baby! That's it! Now, just work your body around and 
around-against my butt, so that you aren't pulling in and out. That's it, 
honey, that's just wonderful!" 

She rotated her ass slowly, in counter-movement to his. 

"Jerry, darling?" she whispered. "Do you know what you're doing? Do you 
realize that you're fucking me soooo gooood! And holding back? Ooooooh, 
Jerry, that's wonderful!" 

He laughed confidently. "The other two times, I was just too hot," he said. 
"But listen, Mala, I'm getting pretty hot right now." 

"Which is best?" she asked, arching her back so that his cock slipped part 
way out, and dropping beck to the bed, so that he slid in again, jamming her 
cervix. "Fucking or cumming?" 

He had begun to groan. "I don't know," he said harshly. "I wish I could fuck 
all night. But I want to cum, so bad that I can taste it!" 

She was able to laugh, and her laughter eased him. 

"Let me cum," she whispered. "I'll try to control it. Then, if you haven't 
cum yet, I'll have a surprise for you. Ohhhh! Don't SHOVE, baby! You don't 
HAVE TO! Hang on!" 

There was no question that she was coming; Jerry could feel the long, 
swirling grip of cunt muscle, but somehow, it left him free, riding along, 
pressed hard against her ass, his cock enjoying the soft, wet, slippery 
turbulence of heat and sucking deep up her wildly shuddering cunt. And he 
was in control. 

She was groaning, her eyes tight shut, her face pouring sweat, and his 
hands, under her soft sweating belly, buried in her moist hot slit, could 
actually feel her clitoris jerking out its heavy rhythm of orgasm, until at 
last it slowed and turned limp, disappearing under his probing fingers, 
until she cried out: "Stop! It's killing me! 

He ceased all movement, troubled, but his cock near to bursting, continued 
to throb and tremble hotly inside her slack vagina, moving a little with 
every hard heartbeat. Her lips moved and he heard her whisper softly: "Get 
up, darling, and let me turn over! Don't go away, just take that marvelous 
cock out for a second or two. I want to see you, to kiss you! Please!" 

He braced his body on his hands and arms as if he were doing a pushup, 
looking down along his sweated chest to look at his cock, now a deep red 
from his exertions. It was wet and slick and, as he looked, it gave a big 
throb. 

His beautiful friend was turning over, her sweet body facing him, and she 
was smiling up so tenderly that he could have cried. 

"Sink it into me, Jerry; just let it go in. Let me guide it. Oh, how 
perfectly marvelous it feels! There, baby. Kiss me!" 

Her mouth was soft and sweet and girlish, her tongue soft, slippery, wet 
with her delightful saliva. He knew what she wanted; just to be in contact, 
and he sucked gently on her tongue and lips, moving his tongue lightly 
around in her cheeks, probing up along her gums, sucking, sucking, loving. 

"Put one leg between mine, dear," she whispered, one soft hand on his 
forehead. "Now, the other. I want to lie wide open for a minute or two and 
let you fuck into me. Feel how slack I am? Feel all that juice pumping out?" 
She kissed him with the same gentleness, rubbing her mouth from side to 
side, giving him her tongue to nibble on. 

"It's wonderful," the boy said simply. "A minute ago, I thought I couldn't 
hold it. But you helped me, didn't you?" 

He arched his back so that he could kiss along her shoulder and upper arm, 
the wild acridity of sweat in her-haired armpit a shivery little treat, and 
he licked into the puff of blonde hair, his hair rising at the delicacy of 
sweat-salt. It made his strong young prick swell in an unexpected throb, and 
he made his body lie still against her belly, trying not to move enough to 
pull his cum-trigger. 

She sucked on his ear and ran her two hands up along his smooth body, then 
down his back, fingering the crack of his ass, delicately probing in and 
down to his anus, then further on, touching the area where the hidden base 
of that long cock went up for its rendezvous with the prostate gland which 
shoots the jism. "Hold it, Mala," he pleaded huskily. "It feels so 
wonderful, so slick and hot, and my prick feels so great, don't make me cum! 
Not for a couple of minutes." 

"Fuck in and out real easy, darling," she whispered. "Letting it lie in 
there and doing anything, you'll think yourself into it. There Ohhh! See 
what I meant by a treat?" 

He laughed. "It's all a treat," he said. "Golly Up until today, all I ever 
did was think about it and jerk off and look at a few dumb pictures of 
cunts, of people fucking. Now, look at me! All of the real thing I ever 
imagined and never dreamed I'd get! Oh, Mala!" He kissed her with warmth and 
love, his young tongue going in around her, his cock quivering deep, deep up 
her cunt, its head nestling hard against her womb. 

When he released her mouth, she held his head tenderly. 

"Right after I cum," she said, "my pussy is soooo relaxed so slick, so full 
of juice that it's just like you were sticking it into a bowl of warm 
custard. It's good for you to be able to fuck and feel good, to enjoy being 
in me without getting the hard squeeze that makes you cum quick. But you can 
still feel it's me, feel my heart beat. And I can feel you, so big and 
manly, so hard and long and grown up, really giving me a fuck as good as the 
best I ever had." 

"Oh, baby!" he crooned softly, "even your talk is making me feel like 
cumming! Let me pull out a little. Whew! That's so sloppy-hot, so good. And 
when I cum, what'll you do? Will you get off, too? I sort of feel selfish, 
cumming without you!" She bumped up at him playfully. "One of the nicest 
things a girl can ever know is just to lie quietly and let her lover pour 
his jism into her, especially when her cunt's all slack because he's nicked 
her so perfectly," she said. "I'll feel it all through my body. Up in my 
rectum, in my breasts, between my legs-down my thighs, I mean 'way up in my 
guts. Even in my mouth. I just wish you had two pricks, so I could have one 
in my mouth, one in my pussy, when you cum!" 

"Do you want me to fuck real hard into you?" he asked. "I'm sorry to be such 
a dummy, but I don't even know how to get the most out of what you're giving 
me. Oh, Mala, you're so good!" 

"Give me your mouth, my darling baby," she whispered. "Mala's baby, and 
Mala's big, big man! Big pricked fucking man! Oooohhh! Maybe I'll lie still 
and cum, too!" She kissed him slowly and softly, both of their tongues 
wallowing together in a soft embrace of love, and she thought: This boy 
knows more right now than most of the men I know! 

She opened her mouth and let his tongue go, whispering into his mouth: "When 
you start to shoot that lovely load into me, just lie still and let it go, 
let it fill me up, let it run over just because you're so wonderful and 
grown up and strong!" 

She was so hot that she could have turned or all her cuntal pressures and 
milked him dry of his semen, but she wanted him to have the ineffable 
experience of a quiet roll-out of his powerful copious young load. "Just 
think fuck, darling," she whispered. "Just think of how it looks up in me, 
right now, so pink, the walls of my cunt so loose and leaky, all that juice 
in me. And your juice, squirting 'way up inside me, flowing against my womb. 
Feel my titties with your chest; feel 'em with your hands! Ohhh, marvelous! 
Squeeze hard, hard! Oh, doll, that's it; there it comes!" 

She felt his ass cheeks tense, felt his cock swell until it seemed twice as 
big, knew that this swelling preceded his first hot shot of his slick, rich 
semen, and then his entire body went rigid with the sharp, desperately 
pleasurable feeling of his seed bursting through the sensitive tube that 
pressed the lovely cum-nerves in his cock. 

She could feel his hot outpouring of his spurting cock, even in her loose, 
slippery, deeply relaxed cunt; it was a sort of added heat where all her 
heat was concentrated, a burst of goodness and sweetness and deep gratitude 
that she was a woman and had this gift to give, and this gift to receive. 

She allowed him to cum and cum and cum and cum, holding back her own 
sluicing, gathering, compelling fire, forcing her vagina to be quiet, while 
she kissed him, or rather, let him kiss her while he, glad to follow her 
instructions, felt all the sweeping, melting delight of an easy, complete, 
super orgasm. 

When he had finished and lay on her with almost all his weight, his drained 
cock still large enough, still hard enough, she very gently began rubbing 
her mound against his, getting the rub of his weight, right through the 
cloak of her cunt lips, onto her ready clitoris. Also, very gently so as not 
to exert painful pressure on the tingling, sensitive nerves of his cockhead, 
she began to work those muscles around the aperture of her vagina, which got 
their joy from the resisting solidity of a hard tool. 

She had only been a gasp away from a fulfilling orgasm for some time, and 
now, with her mind aflame, with her cunt almost turning inside out from the 
stretching, swelling throbs that had only stopped a moment or two before, 
she felt the power grow inside her, felt the burn and itch and tautness 
swell her clit, and it took only a very slight movement of her body, up and 
down, side to side to get the final, soft friction rub she needed to explode 
in a long-lasting, deep-swelling fire of cumming. 

Their mouths were again joined, their kissing muscles tired and relaxed, but 
with all the erotic pleasure in lips and cheeks and tongues adding to Mala's 
long, slow, bursting heave of joy. 

While she lay on her back, eyes half closed smiling in a warm haze of 
contentment, the strong young boy rolled off. "I don't want to mash you," he 
whispered tenderly, and she held him for a moment by his softening, slippery 
cock. He gathered that she still had one mild desire, and rolled so that his 
loins were at her shoulder so that she only had to make a slight movement to 
get his prick into her open mouth. 

She sucked gently, moving her tongue all around the head, once more moving 
the foreskin back expertly, dabbling her way under and around the cord, 
licking up all the remaining taste. He took her legs and rolled her back, 
thighs high, and mashed his face into the well-used cunt, spread open by her 
position. But he was too tired and sated to do much more than root his mouth 
into the vein-streaked, passion-swollen labia, inhaling the rankly healthy 
odors of sperm and girl-juice and rubbed, sweated flesh. 

After he was asleep, Mala moved him to the center of the big bed and covered 
him. She left the bedside lamp on so that she could look at his sweet, 
manly, beautiful young face, and trace the outlines of his body under the 
light covers. 

She did not get up to drain his load and hers out of her well filled cunt, 
loving the wet feel of it, knowing her body would absorb most of it. 

If he wakes up later and wants some, it'll be nice and sweet and juicy for 
him she thought. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

When Mala finally awoke, it was the telephone that did it. The lamp was 
turned off, Jerry was gone, and she had been covered against the early 
morning chill of the southern California night. 

It was Mae Charles, her voice soft and loving, who said: "Any time you're 
ready, your breakfast is, my dear. Charles has eaten, but Jerry and I are 
waiting for you." 

It was a marvelous meal, with tender pork cutlets browned in their coating 
of flour and egg, and eggs scrambled in cream, with tender mushrooms and 
fresh tomatoes laced through hem, and a warm platter of fresh, hot rolls. 

As on the day before, they went to school together in the blue sports car, 
but now there was no necessity for play-acting so that the suggestible youth 
could see her softly divided, hairy lipped little treasure. Instead, as soon 
as Mala backed her lovely rump into the seat, Jerry had his searching hand 
ready, and he groaned in love and lust as his fingers sank into the wealth 
of slickness and heat. 

She turned and kissed him, their tongues rolling against each other, and she 
drew away smiling. "Part of that goop is right out of your big balls, 
honey!" she whispered to him. "Don't get me too hot; I might stop and spread 
my pussy open for you right on the way to school." 

He took her hand and put it on his cock, lying, hard and thick against his 
thigh in his neat gray flannel slacks. "I'll be ready any time you are," he 
grinned at her. "You know something, Mala? Sex is good for a person! I don't 
feel sleepy, not one bit!" 

She kissed him again, tenderly this time, and looked deep into his eyes. 
"You'd better believe it always, Jerry," she answered him solemnly. "It's 
the best tonic in the world for anything that's wrong with you." 

At school that day, as he sat at her desk getting final fill-ins on his 
daily room-and-teacher schedule, he leaned down to whisper: "Look at the 
girl three people behind me. The little one in the red shirt. And the guy 
behind her. Tell you about them later." 

On the way home, after it was all over for the week, and she would begin, on 
Monday, to teach physical education and coach the two gym teams, she waited 
for him to do his talking. But it was only after he had followed her into 
her luxurious little home that he opened up, sitting on her bed, watching 
her strip down, opening his fly to let his cock stand up in the warm air. 

"That kid, you know, the one I pointed out? Who's she remind you of? The way 
she's built, I mean." 

Mala was honestly puzzled for a moment and then his meaning struck her. The 
girl, not more than fourteen, had tits like Mae Charles, had a small, 
gorgeously stacked body like Mae's, with a wide and inviting lushness of hip 
and a womanly generosity of thigh, very much like the housekeeper. 

"By God!" Mala swore. "She looks like Mae Charles. That's what you meant, 
isn't it?" 

He fell on her with glee, feeling her nude body, kissing at her nipples, 
fingering the soaked farrow of her twat. 

"I meant to tell you last night," he said. "I went to bed right after you 
left, but I couldn't get to sleep. I got up and wandered around, and heard 
some noises in the gym, so I peeked in. Golly! You shouldn't believe what I 
saw!" He stroked his cock, which was growing larger. I'll believe it," Mala 
laughed. "You saw Mae Charles doing exercises, and she was naked. Right?" 

"God damn right," he said earnestly. "Wow! You know, last night I said she 
was too old, and then I admitted I'd peeped on her, and that she gave me a 
hard-on." 

"I know," Mala said. "I remember. I thought it was sweet that you felt that 
way. That she turns you on like that." 

"Turns me on!" he hooted. "I'll bet I've jerked off a million times, 
thinking of her. Seeing her in my mind!" His voice was tight, tense, urgent. 
"Didn't you hint that I might, well, no, that's nutty. I must have heard you 
wrong. Me, a dumb kid thinking about fucking a grown up lady, older than my 
mom? But I think you said I could. Didn't you?" 

"So, all right," Mala laughed. "Remember what I told you-that every girl, no 
matter what she says or does, really hopes the boy with her will try to get 
it into her pussy? Well, a lot of ladies think such things, too." 

"You said I could fuck her," Jerry said, very low. "I think you're kidding." 

"Maybe I'll prove it to you," Mala smiled. "But what's that got to do with 
the girl, except she looks like Miz Charles?" 

The big kid had finished undressing. He was poised, confident, as though he 
had peeled his clothes off in a woman's bedroom a thousand times. "I want to 
fuck her, too," he said. "Remember what you promised? That you'd help me get 
any girl I wanted? Well, I want her! Her name's Sue Carter; her dad's the 
big insurance man in town. I want to spread her out and open up her little 
pussy and suck her out and fuck her!" 

His voice had raised almost to a shout, and Mala was tickled at his guts, 
his heat, his determination. 

"My goodness," she said, turning her eyes up to Heaven in an ironic display 
of piety. "How you talk! Do you think she's going to roll right over for 
you?" 

He looked fifteen years old again, dismayed, apologetic. 

"That guy behind her. He's the one I told you about." 

"The one you said 'we'll call him Timmy Schultz'? " Mala asked. "The one who 
knows when the chicks are ripe and ready?" 

Yeah," Jerry acknowledged. "His name really is Timmy Schultz. And he's got 
his big eyes on Sue. 

Mala sat for a few seconds, then opened her thighs and pulled the standing 
boy between them, touching his hard cock to each of her nipples. 

"I can get you Miz Charles right now," she said slowly. "But do you remember 
what you told me about Timmy Schultz and the other guys who really-or at 
least in your belief-get a lot? That they never tell anyone? You've got to 
be the same. I mean it. You not only ruin things for yourself by talking; 
you could cause an awful lot of bigger trouble for someone else." 

After Jerry's assurances, it didn't take long for Mala to set things up. It 
was daring; it meant she had to trust the older woman, had to believe she 
meant what she said about how hot she was, how much she craved cock, how 
directly she desired the stud services of young Jerry Jonas. 

And Mala was just a little tricky. 

"I've decided to give you something nice, something lovely," she told the 
small, big-titted woman on the phone. "Something you've been wanting." She 
made her voice low, gave it a throb, created a kissing, sucking noise, and 
Mae squealed with delight. 

"I'll be there before you can count ten!" she cried, and Mala, laughing, 
pushed Jerry into her luxurious bathroom. 

"Come out as soon as you want to," she told him. "You won't need a cue. Let 
your cock be your guide." 

She held the front door open and met the charge of the affectionate, 
impulsive little housekeeper head on, holding the small, well stacked body 
against hers while the two of them kissed, a long tonguing, sucking kiss, 
which left them both breathless. 

Very practically, with a bold look that seemed touching to Mala, Mae Charles 
crossed her hands to her hips as soon as they broke their embrace, and 
lifted her light summer dress up and off, confirming what the contact had 
told Mala-underneath the dress, there was only the bare, smooth, warm body 
of the tiny brunette. 

Mala gasped, The little woman had looked very good, even in the conservative 
dresses she usually affected. But big breasts can be saggy, out of shape, 
unattractive. Not Mae Charles's! 

In spite of their billowy size, they were as firm as Mala's, with very wide 
circles of moon-landscape, nubby flesh in their aureoles surrounding the 
pink nipples. And her body was simply a picture of sexual delight, with its 
satiny skin, smoothly rounded little belly, flaring hips, and sweetly 
rounded thighs. 

She stood for a moment, her face aflame with a blush that extended down to 
her toes, but with merry, loving eyes, and threw herself at the younger 
woman. 

They rolled on the bed, kissing, fingering each other, and, to Jerry's 
surprise as he stood peeking through a crack in the bathroom door, Mala 
seemed as eager to explore the housekeeper's cunt as the little woman was 
for Mala's. He shook his head, grinning, needing no stroking hand to keep 
his cock up. 

"You're lovely, Mae," Mala gasped when the two pinwheeling figures seemed to 
flow together mouth to mouth, kissing, laughing, looking into each other's 
eyes. "These boobs, they're beautiful!" She took one of the big pillows of 
flesh in both hands, squeezing it until the blue-veined flesh squirted out 
between her fingers, making the little woman shut her eyes and squeal in 
joy. 

Mae had a finger in the blonde woman's cunt, the moving of her wrist and 
forearm showing that she was carefully, kindly finding the hot spots in and 
around its entry. 

"You're fantastic down here," the small woman whispered. "Oh, my dear, how I 
wish I had a cock!" She stuck out her little pink tongue and laughed 
ruefully. "Maybe I can make it up in skill and understanding for what I lack 
in size and length!" 

She tumbled Mala back and victoriously jammed her face into the girl's 
split. Her own smooth rump, looking ever so much wider due to her crouching 
over Mala's face, was turned toward the bathroom, as Mala had intended it to 
be for Jerry's sake, and the young boy, his breath held saw the big, wetly 
pink pussy protruding out open from its inner heat, glistening with the 
cunt-dew that was stirring in her from a twisting desire, a wrenching need 
for sex, for a cock, for a tongue, for anything what would release her from 
this swelling storm. 

Well he thought, Mala said I'd know when to get it on The fire that the 
wise, gently busy tongue of the hot little woman was stirring in Mala's cunt 
had glazed her eyes with lust, had closed her mind to any consideration 
except her own impending orgasm. Through her half-closed lashes, she could 
see the glories of the little woman's pussy, and her tongue was aching to 
lap some of that sweetly saline cum-juice that was curling down the wet cunt 
hairs in clear, slick little drops. It had happened more quickly than she 
had expected. And her response to the sensuality, the sweetness of this 
tenderly eager human, this member of her own sisterhood, this cunt-carrying 
woman, had been more powerful than she could have dreamed. 

Thus, when two strong thighs appeared at her cheeks, and a simply beautiful 
cock, its single eye dripping a clear fluid, appeared above her face, she 
was shocked simply because her response to Mae's love had shot her into 
another world. 

But she was delighted. She knew that Mae was too deeply buried in the open 
twat under her lips to notice anything less than a full-sized cock jammed 
into her. She would not see anything in a mirror, or in her peripheral 
vision, nor would she feel the weight of a new body on the bed. 

Mala, ready to cum, enjoying the creative cunt-sacking of another woman, 
knowing she was being tenderly carried to the crest of a sweetly fulfilling 
cum, let her feeling go, let her warmth and heat and slickness flow through 
her belly, let it twist in her happy cunt muscles, explode in her inflamed 
mind. And with it, she gently, expertly guided the tip of that hard young 
cock into the darkly dripping hole that was centered in the pink bubbles of 
juicy membrane just above her. 

And Jerry, as hot as he had ever been, let his preceptress, his procuress, 
hold his cock as it slowly entered the throbbing vagina. 

For a moment, Mae probably felt that Mala had entered her with a dildo of 
some kind, for she stiffened, then, with her face still plastered in the 
juicy folds of the younger girl's cunt, wagged her ass in delighted answer. 
And Mala, keeping up the deceit just for the humorously earthy hell of it, 
clamped her soft thighs on the curly head. She, too, was almost entirely 
without a view, but what she saw was as hot a sight as she would have asked. 

So close to Mala's face that she could inhale its aphrodisiac sweetness, the 
little woman's thick-lipped cunt was wide open, even to the top, now the 
bottom because of the housekeeper's reversed position, so that the fiercely 
straining clitoris, a very large one, was in plain sight, and Mala's gaze 
was fixed on it. 

And also on Jerry's cock, looking enormous because she saw all of it far 
past his big young balls, seeming to extend clear back to his un-haired 
anus. She could, she believed, get all the sweetness of both her friends if 
she could only reach a bit higher. 

In perfect condition, able almost to lick her own pussy if she had tried 
very hard, Mala easily go up to where she could take young Jerry's balls in 
her mouth. 

They were rank and beautifully gamy from his day of exertion in the powerful 
September heat, and they were held tightly against his stiff cock by 
excitement, but she gargled first one and then the other, and was rewarded 
by his sudden lurch as he slammed even deeper into the flowing depths of the 
housekeeper's cunt. 

A softly spreading quake of cum-heat was gushing through every nerve in 
Mala's eager body, and she raised it to fever pitch by moving her face, just 
able to get to the cum-drenched cunt of the little brunette. There had been 
a gathering flow of pussy-juice in it since Mae had first rushed in, and it 
had been growing as she nursed so hotly on Mala's sweetly throbbing pussy. 

Now, a big mouthful had grown in the folds of flesh which protected the big 
clitoris, and this reward of taste and slickness and love-promise hired the 
powerful sucking tongue of the girl on the bottom. She took in-haired flesh, 
jumping clit, soft lining and all, swallowing the rich cunt flow gratefully, 
sucking hard on the bursting little sex bud, and all hell broke loose. 

As a tidal wave of orgasm, breaking inside her cunt like a time bomb whose 
hour has come, shook the little housekeeper, she closed her arms, grip on 
Mala's thighs, thrust her tongue deeper into the blonde girl's clasping 
hole, and pushed her ass high into the air, feeling heat rush out of her 
like a storm of cumming, and then, feeling that hard thing, whatever it was, 
slam into he again, she knew it for what it was. 

A cock! A strange, lovely, pulsing cock! 

And with that knowledge, in her gratitude toward her young friend, she sank 
down, let the cock penetrate her to her very limits, sucking harder on Mala, 
mashing her big, tender tits into the girl's belly and pelvic cradle. 

She felt her cunt throbbing, trying to suck up and grasp its way around the 
cock and still include the marvelously strong lips which were nibbling at 
her clitoris, and just then, like a healing magic, she felt the powerful, 
hot flow of male semen pour around her vagina, over the mouth of her womb, 
and felt it ease its trickly-hot way down between the lips of her cunt, now 
so sensitive that the least touch increased the orgasmic beauty that was 
racking her belly. 

Since her final, half-fainting instinct was to save her lovely woman friend 
from being crushed Mae did not fall forward, but to one side, and Jerry, 
honestly feeling somewhat alarmed at his temerity in spite of Mala's 
assurances, in spite of the hot scene he had witnessed, fell with her, 
holding on to her flanks, keeping his cock wedged inside her, and she could 
have blessed him for it. 

Mala, happy and perhaps the least affected of them all, in spite of her 
long, slow-drooling orgasm, lay face up, a satisfied smile on her flushed 
face. 

Then, since the other two seemed locked and glued together with love, and 
there was a flood of Jerry's milky white sperm on the inside of Mae's 
thighs, Mala made a half roll, lifted the little woman's leg, and eased her 
face into where she could lap up the rich, slick seed. Mae began to laugh. 
"You said you'd give me something nice, Mala, and you certainly did! Jerry, 
my darling boy, I've been like a mother to you, but I never felt really 
motherly." She turned and pulled herself off his cock with an involuntary 
groan of loss, and kissed him, holding his face away from hers to look at 
him at close range. "Unless I'm a very incestuous mother, and that's not 
impossible!" 

The big boy grinned in an abashed way and muttered: "Mala said you'd go for 
it, but I didn't believe her. Hey!" as Mae took his cock into her mouth, 
"Mala! Is this all right, too!" 

Mala laughed delightedly and Mae, unwilling to remove the warm mouthful of 
boyish peter from her lips, rolled her eyes. 

The two women wrestled the boy all over the bed, tickling him, alternating 
kisses on his cock and balls, leaping and screaming with laughter as he, in 
turn, grabbed at a tit, or goosed his dripping fingers into a gooshy cunt. 
He had gotten back some of his aplomb, and he kissed Mae gently and sweetly 
and told her: 'I've always wanted to get it into you, and it was Mala who 
gave me the guts!" 

"But you were the one who had the hard-on, don't forget that," laughed Mala. 
"Without the hard-on, there wouldn't have been anything much!" 

"Ho, ho, ho!" Mae said with a leer of exaggerated lechery. "Speak for 
yourself, baby! And be careful what you say. I had you shooting your lovely 
wad before this hunk of boy ever got that enormous thing into me. Let me see 
it again, Jerry," she demanded, pulling at his softening cock, pushing the 
foreskin back, kissing the head She turned again to Mala, but winked at 
Jerry to include him. "And it wasn't only this prick I fell in me and on 
me," she said. "No fuck from behind no matter how sweet, ever made me cum 
like that! I felt you, baby!" 

She let go of Jerry to hang on to Mala, kissing her over and over, happy 
tears running down her cheeks. "This is the sweetest thing that ever 
happened to me. But one boy, no matter how strong he is, can't take care of 
two women. And Mala saw you first!" She smiled tremulously. 

"Suppose I told you that this young turk has eyes for still another girl?" 
Mala asked with a wicked laugh. "What then, Mae? What would y say?" 

"That he's too damned ambitious," Mae laughed, but her face was concerned. 
"Jerry, you can't do it," she warned. "It's more than any man could do!" 

"Pooh!" Mala answered promptly, cradling Jerry's hand in her lap, letting 
his knuckles rub into the fat softness of her mound, with its curly blonde 
hair. "Men can fuck more than they think they can. And Mae, I expect you've 
been brainwashed with the same negative thinking. What's the old saying? Put 
a bean in a jar every time you screw during the first year of a marriage, 
and take one out for every time you fuck after that, and it'll take you five 
years to empty the jar?" Her laugh rang out, happy, scornful, inspiring. 
"That's bullshit, Mae! Bullshit, Jerry! Don't you believe it!" 

She pulled Jerry's head to her breasts, pushing a big, hard nipple into his 
mouth. "Suck me, baby!" she commanded, and loved the smile on his boyish 
face as he complied. "You've got his cock, Mae. He only emptied his balls 
ten minutes ago. What does his cock tell you?" 

"My God," the little woman said. "It's, uh, waking up!" 

Mala pushed the six-foot baby away from her breast, laughing at his 
protests. "Suck Mae," she ordered. "Go ahead, you suck one of those 
beautiful things and I'll suck the other!" 

She glanced up lovingly at the flushed, pretty face of the housekeeper. You 
don't look middle-aged, baby, Mala thought. You look about twenty. And this 
is good light She took one of Jerry's hands and put one of his fingers to 
her twat, moving involuntarily as his finger automatically inserted itself 
into her seething cunt lips. She put two of her own fingers down to Mae's 
dripping sluice, and got a surprise. 

It was not easy to get two of her fingers into that well lubricated hole; 
she had to push. "Hey," she said, "a good fuck tightens you up, doll! That's 
fantastic!" 

She thought again of how young the housekeeper looked in the midst of heat, 
and of how amazingly her cunt closed its lips and muscles. A bold idea began 
to form in her mind, and she gave Mae a quick, probing kiss. "We're all set 
for a long time," she announced. "Listen to me!" 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Mae wanted to get dressed, but young Jerry grabbed at her as she tried to 
get off the bed and got his hand between her fat thighs, high up to her 
crotch, picking up a smear of slick goo that was running out of her pussy. 
"You wait here, just like you are," he said. "Hear what Mala's idea is. 
Dinner can wait!" 

The woman giggled like a schoolgirl. "Dinner's all set right now," she said. 
"All I have to do is be there when the oven turns off. An hour from now. And 
Charles is over in Rancho Rico, waiting for a truck load of new seedlings 
and a ton of chicken manure." 

The giggle only added to Mala's belief in the power of her idea. "Jerry," 
she demanded, "what's the name of that farm where the kids all go to make 
it? Garth's? Okay. Suppose you call that little Carter chick and ask her to 
go to Garth's with you tonight!" 

The boy gulped. "Hey, that's pretty heavy," he said. "If a girl goes to 
Garth's with a guy, it's like saying she's ready to fuck him." 

"Maybe it's just like saying she's ready to fuck," Mala replied mildly. 
"Remember what you told me about Timmy Schultz? How's he's got eyes for the 
Carter kid?" 

Jerry's voice was thick. "Yeah, that's right. And I said he was one of the 
guys who seemed to know when a girl was ready! You mean that if she's ready, 
she could be ready for me just as easy as she could be ready for Tim?" 

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Mala replied. "I can't guarantee 
it, of course, not with any particular girl or particular guy. For all I 
know, the Carter chick may not like you, and she may be pissing in her pants 
for young Schultz. What do you think?" 

The boy got up off the bed purposefully. "I think she-likes me pretty good," 
he said stoutly. "That doesn't mean she doesn't like Timmy. But I can try." 

He didn't waste time looking up a number, just dialed four-one-one and asked 
for the Carter phone number. When he had dialed it, he waited, the perfect 
picture of confidence, until someone answered. 

"Hi, Susie," he said, "it's me, Jerry Jonas." 

The two women, leaning close to the phone, heard the girl squeal with 
pleasure. 

"Jerry! "Wonderful! A surprise! What's up? Something big, I hope!" They 
could hear her giggle. 

"Well, I'm not going to say how big it is, Susie, but it's up, and it's up 
for you!" He rolled his eyes at Mala and Mae, and Mala knew he could never 
have been so cool, so with it, if not for them as audience. 

"Hey," they heard the girl's voice. "I didn't mean it like that!" But then, 
apparently in spite of herself, she let out a smothered laugh. "What's 
happened to you, all at once?" 

As a look of sweetness and docility crossed the boy's face, Mae shook her 
finger under his nose and he looked at her and at Mala, who doubled a fist 
and aimed it in an imitation of a killer punch. "Go after her," she mouthed, 
and Jerry nodded. 

"What do you mean, all of a sudden?" he asked with great good humor. "I've 
been getting around. I just all of a sudden noticed how great you looked 
today. You've, uh, changed." 

The giggle was very happy. "Yeah," the girlish voice came over loud and 
clear. "I've changed, all right. Right out of every blouse and sweater and 
dress I own. Glad you noticed." 

"How could I help it," the boy asked earnestly. "You're like a grown-up 
woman." He laughed easily. "Hey, there ought to be a thing on at Garth's 
tonight. First Friday of the school year. How about going with me?" 

They heard the sharp hiss of an indrawn breath. "Golly, Jerry, I don't know. 
Garth's, hey? I guess so; the moon's almost full. When it's really full, 
most girls are, uh, ineligible." She laughed nervously. "You know what I 
mean, don't you?" 

"Think I'm a baby?" Jerry asked. "Of course I do! But it doesn't make my 
girl ineligible there's more than one way to skin a cat." He smiled as Mala 
patted him on the back. "A pussy, I mean," he added. 

There was a long silence from the girl, then she laughed. "You really are 
into it, aren't you, Jerry? Well, okay, you can take me. Timmy Schultz told 
me at school a while ago that he was going to call me. But he hasn't, not 
yet. And anyhow, Jerry, you know something? I, well, maybe I'm stupid to say 
this. But if it's to Garth's, I'd rather go with you!" 

He had a hard-on when he hung up, his eyes looking far ahead, and Mae had 
tears in her eyes. 

"Mala," she whispered, "you're the most beautiful, unselfish person I've 
ever known. To give this boy up, this great piece of meat!" And she stroked 
the boy's hard peter up and down, her throat clogging with desire. 

"Cut it out," Mala said, tickling her under on of her gorgeously full, 
unbelievably firm titties "You and I are going along-not with Jerry baby 
here, but cruising on our own. I have an idea there are always a few stags 
hanging around. Am I right, Jerry?" 

He looked at her blankly, and she repeated her question. 

"Oh, sure, Mala," he smiled. "Sure! Sometimes they're, well, sort of toughs 
from over in Sonar Beach. But they act all right, because there's just too 
many guys there with chicks. I've heard that the guys with dates don't let 
anybody butt in unless he wants to swap. Ohhhhh!" he pranced up and down, 
holding his head. "I'm going to fuck Sue Carter!" 

"Okay," Male said crisply. "Don't forget who set it up for you, and built 
you up to have the guts and the sense! And don't forget that Sue may be 
shopping around for more than one prick, too!" If she's anything like I was 
at her age, she said to herself, laughing inwardly. 

Jerry put his arm around her, his face entreating. "Oh, Jesus, Mala, don't 
go that way on me!" he begged. "I'm just excited at the whole idea! Not just 
putting my cock into that little chickie. But being one of the real guys. 
But without you, none of it would happen. And if you say so, I won't go!" 

Mala struck herself over the heart with her closed fist, thumb first. "God 
forgive me!" she cried. "I'm acting like a fucking wife! Listen, baby, 
you're as free as a bird. I mean it! Now come on, let's sort of play around 
and take it easy, hear? 

Mae, you and I won't be left out-you just wait and see!" 

It was the longest three hours that any of them had ever passed. Dinner 
seemed as if it would never end. Mister Charles said yes, sure, he'd love to 
see a movie if Mae would go, and Mae could have screamed, but Mala smiled 
and said: "I asked Mae to go with me to show me some shop in Santa Vaca; I'm 
a night bird, and we may be up late." 

Mister Charles laughed indulgently. "My little doll doesn't get out with the 
girls very often," he said. "Go, and bless you!" . 

Jerry left first, in his old Cadillac. "It's like bedroom in back," he 
joked. "That's what dad said when he gave it to me. Better than a sports car 
for what a boy needs a car for, that's what dad said Mom jumped him, but he 
just looked at her and smiled, and she shut up. She blushed, too." 

They stayed a block behind him when he went to pick up the charming little 
tenth-grader with the grown-up breasts. In the light from her home, they 
could see that she wore a loose, simple dress. 

"They tell me that everybody wears something easy to get into. For a guy to 
get into," Jerry quipped. "A girl with panties on, hell, the other girls 
hold her down and take 'em off her. So you know what I'm wearing?" he asked. 
"Pajama bottoms. No zipper, so it can all hang out." 

They were in Mae's car, a comfortable family sedan, but each had a sleeping 
bag. 

"If a girl's not getting enough action," Jerry advised them, "she just walks 
down the line of cars with a sleeping bag or a blanket. Down at the end is 
where they have the group stuff. Everybody fucks everybody, I hear. Or 
else!" 

"Or else what?" both the women wanted to know, their eyes warm with 
anticipation, and Jerry answered: "Same as with the panties. The girls hold 
them down while any boy with a hard-on fucks 'em! Seems wild, doesn't it?" 

"Yeah," Mala answered, her tongue thick with the ideas her mind fed down to 
her warming pussy. "Yeah. What do you think, Mae?" 

The little woman hung onto Mala, laughing. "Makes me want to turn somebody 
down," she twittered. "Hot damn, Mala! Let's go!" And they went, trailing 
Jerry and little Sue Carter, Mae in the top from Mala's winter pajamas, Mala 
in a tunic originally cut to wear with pants, and each of them sitting with 
their warm and naked bottoms on folded sleeping bags. 

They dimmed their lights just before they turned into the lane leading south 
from Rancho Rico Road, a mile in from the coast. There were a dozen cars 
already in place, and there was a good deal of young laughter floating in 
the fragrant dark, heavy with the scent of night blooming flowers, citrus 
blossoms, turned earth, and rankly growing grasses. 

"I think I smell something else," Mae whispered, leaning against the 
softness of Mala's breasts. "Some football jock must have skinned his prick. 
Wow!" aping the favorite juvenile ejaculation. "It smells marvelous!" 

Mala reached behind her in the car and brought out a wig, fashioned of long, 
straight hair. "I'm a teacher," she explained to Mae. "I've got to live with 
these horny kids five days a week. Jerry, well, Jerry's different." The 
older woman had squeezed her arm. 

"I hope this works for both of us," she said excitedly. "I did what you 
said, see? My hair in a pony tail with a red ribbon, same as Sue! But who 
could mistake me for a fourteen-year-old? Oh. baby! I hope it works!" 

They stopped for just a second by Jerry's shining old car as they walked 
along, and Mala hissed: "Hi, Jer!" 

He had to raise up from the seat in the back to say "Hi!" in a puzzled 
voice, and they heard a girl too: "What the hell? Who is that?" and Mala 
laughed softly, her arm around Mae, feeling on of her superbly youthful 
breasts. 

"Sue Carter," she murmured to her companion "Thought she was looking in a 
mirror! Walk looser, take longer steps!" 

They were coming closer to the end of the car, hearing talk and laughter, 
when a tall boy in nothing but a pair of white bib overalls, "farmer" 
overalls, came out of the gloom and said: "God damn it, Sue, how come you 
turned me down and showed up here, stag?" 

He grabbed Mae by the arm and held her while she struggled, opening the PJ 
top with his other hand, freeing the big tits. "Wow!" he breathed. "Just 
like I thought they'd be!" He pulled her back of a car, and Mae was laughing 
quietly. She was still laughing when he tried to suck one of those super 
tits down her throat, but it soared to a wail of pure joy as they rolled on 
the ground, and Mala, her eyes now used to the dark, saw the big boy sinking 
his cock right into the darker wedge where Mae's body was joined to her 
strong, lovely thighs. 

She watched for a moment in spite of the heat that was crowding in her, in 
spite of her hungry cunt, watching the hard expertise with which Timmy 
Schultz was plumbing Mae's pussy. In the dark, Mala heard him say: "Jesus, 
kid, you're tight! But not cherry! Good! I hate all that damned blood!" And 
with a triumphant feeling of having solved a problem, Mala went on down the 
line, listening to whistles and invitations. 

Her tunic was sleeveless, so, when a strong hand grasped her arm high up, it 
slid right into the warm, lightly sweated armpit which Jerry had said was 
"Like a little cunt." She turned and smiled into a dark, intense face, and 
realized that this was no high school boy. 

Without fear, she turned to raise her face, and the scowling young man drew 
her to him with a quick, hard movement, running his left hand between her 
thighs, plunging as many fingers as he could into her suddenly shocked cunt. 

His mouth was plastered on hers, his tongue, long and broad, was searching 
her mouth, and his big right hand was deep in the cleft of her ass, the 
fingers prodding at her ass-hole. It was hot, hot, and Mala, feeling able to 
handle herself in any situation, felt no fear whatever, rather a sort of 
expectancy. Her sleeping bag fell from her arm as she, with her natural urge 
to enjoy, cupped the stranger's big balls in one hand while she hugged him 
hard with the other, and they went to the ground in a tangled heap, both 
laughing. But there was an oddity about this encounter-the dark man had no 
hard-on. 

Big his cock certainly was, swollen enough to promise something marvelous 
when he did get it up. But it wasn't up. Not yet. 

She was leaning down to find it with her warn lips, having disengaged her 
mouth from the long kiss, when she felt a stunning blow on the side of her 
face, saw a blaze of light from the blow, and was twisted over by a hard 
hand while cruel fingers twisted in her twat, so painful that she felt 
something inside her might be torn. 

She was down for only a moment, hearing the snarling guy rapping out: 
"What's with you baby? Don't you dig the pain bit?" But eighteen years of 
gymnastics, heavy workouts every day, all planned for agility and balance as 
well as speed, plus, of course, a good looking girl's expectable experience 
in sexual wrestling matches made Mala a contact bomb in this sort of action. 

The man screamed as she struck him under the nose with the flat of her hand, 
one bent finger tearing at the cartilage of his nose, and she was up in a 
short fraction of a second. 

"You God damned slut!" the dark man shouted, leaping up to grab at her, 
reaching for the right wrist which she seemed awkwardly unable to keep from 
him. 

She let him grab at it, locked his arm with both hands and jerked it down 
and up his back, so that he was forced to bend at the waist or have his 
shoulder dislocated. She held him in this position for perhaps two seconds 
and then, seeing that his big balls hung conveniently down between his legs, 
she took them in one hand and gave them one sharp, hard twist. Not enough to 
injure him permanently, but plenty to cause him the most exquisite pain now, 
and to leave him with a reminding pain for a week. 

It had been a silent struggle, except for his first shriek and his shouted 
curse, but now he emitted a blood-curdling yell of masculine agony, all the 
more intense because Mala's grip on his twisted arm held him static. 

She looked around at the suddenly stilled action around her, the open 
mouths, some still wet from eager pussies, or dripping semen from a boyish 
ejaculation of sperm unswallowed. 

There was a clear path back to the dirt road, and on it there was a shiny, 
late model Chewy, broadside on. 

Exerting a little pressure, Mala got the bent-over man started toward it, 
hurried him with a harder twist, running beside him, aiming his head at the 
side of the car. They were going at a sharp trot when they reached it, and 
she banged his head into the car's side with a sound like striking a big 
gong. 

There were two sounds immediately after, a harsh gush of breath from the 
unconscious man's mouth, and the muffled thud of his big body falling into 
the dust. 

So that he would not strangle, Mala carefully arranged his head so that his 
cheek was lying on his forearm, and turned back, watching to see the crowd 
reaction. 

She remembered what Jerry had heard that a girl refusing to fuck was usually 
held down by other girls as an open prize for any boy with a hard-on, and 
was ready for it. But the only girl who approached her was a tall, slim 
brunette naked save for a very short wraparound skirt who held out a hand in 
welcome. 

"That was wonderful," the young girl said earnestly. "He's a bad one, always 
jumping new girls We'd all have helped you, but I guess we were all well," 
and she laughed nervously, "busy with our boys!" Her small, pointed tits 
quivered in the moonlight, and she kicked daintily at the unconscious 
victim's naked ass. 

"What made him scream like that?" she asked, looking at Mala with 
admiration. "Did you grab him by the balls? It was all over so quick! God 
damn!" she cried to all who lay or sat on the blankets, their fucking and 
sucking suspended for now, "This sister just knocked the shit out of George 
Leyes!" 

She hugged a surprised and grateful Mala to her and whispered: "I hope you 
get a nice boy!" and then turned and lay beside a powerful looking young 
kid. 

Mala, her heart pounding, adrenalin flowing through her tensed body, felt a 
pang of anger and sadness that this happy adventure had turned sour. 
Something about the night itself, perhaps the role she was playing, possibly 
the sharp ache in the tenderness of her bruised cunt, brought stinging tears 
to her eyes. 

She had picked up her sleeping bag and was leaving, head down, amidst a soft 
chorus of goodbyes, when she almost stumbled over a person seated in the 
darker shadows of an old car, on a small blanket, dejection showing in every 
line of his small body. 

There was something about finding someone in as bad a position as herself 
that lifted Mala out of herself, left her with an urge to laugh at her minor 
woes, and she sat down immediately, lowering herself to her knees, and 
putting one arm over the thin, naked shoulders. It was a boy, she had no 
trouble deducing that, for he had a hard-on, coming up in the dark between 
his thighs. 

"What's the matter?" Mala whispered, putting her soft lips against his 
strong young neck. 

The kid stirred, and Mala realized that, for all his small size, his upper 
arms and shoulders showed an unusual musculature, the long, corded muscles 
moving under his smooth skin like powerful cables. She put a hand under his 
chin, forcing his face up, a face streaked with shameful tears. So she 
kissed him, feeling unable not to do so, something telling her that perhaps 
her evening wasn't lost, after all. 

There was his hard-on, plain to see in spite of the shadow, and she put a 
soft, warm, knowing hand down to it, rolling the skin gently up over the 
head, then back, assessing its size and hardness, all the while maintaining 
her kiss. 

He was small, but she doubted that he was as young as he seemed, since he 
had quite a growth of hair on his belly, much more, for example, than 
fifteen-year-old Jerry. But something had interfered with his sexual 
development, or social experience, for he was only now letting her tongue 
into his young mouth, sucking back at it, sticking his own tongue into the 
dark, wet recesses of her kindly mouth. 

Suddenly, without warning, he put both arms up to Mala, like a little child, 
and she let go his cock to hold him against her breasts, falling gently on 
her side, losing his tongue because he was smaller that she, and his mouth 
went to one of her aching tits. 

"What's the matter, baby?" she whispered, petting him, again noting those 
amazing muscles, holding him close so that his rigid cock was pressed into 
her belly. The tunic had slid up as she had sat down, and something, perhaps 
her hands, perhaps his, had bunched it up above her breasts, and she 
impatiently eased it off over her head, leaving her naked. 

The entire aspect of the evening had changed for Mala. She was no longer 
tense, no longer angry. A prick, stiff with need, was against her naked 
flesh, her cunt, aching from brutality a moment before, now ached with 
instant lust. Best of all, from her standpoint, here was a new friend, a 
youngster obviously hungering for pussy, obviously left behind by the pack 
as they all reached out toward life and sex. 

"You sweet doll," she crooned, raising her leg to lay it across him, opening 
her twat in the process. "Give me your cock. Ah, ah, it's so sweet! Yes, 
baby! Let mama put it in for you!" 

She could feel the chill of cunt juice running out of her and onto her 
thigh, and she let go of his tool just long enough to pick some of this up 
and rub it slickly onto the head, under the foreskin, along the column. 
"What a lot of goo!" she whispered to him. "Do you like cunt squeezings? Do 
you like that sweet stuff that mama's dripping out of her pussy?" 

Against her breast she saw him nod eagerly, and she said in a soft voice: 
"Put your hand between my legs and pick some up. Oh, yes, honey, that's the 
way! Ooohh! That felt so nice! Oh! Easy, baby!" She held him close as he 
passed his wet hand up to his lips, and he sucked even harder at her breast, 
mumbling something. 

She leaned down; he was whispering: "My first time! I don't know " and then 
his sucking mouth was nuzzling at her sensitive nipple again, was pulling it 
into his mouth with a painfully marvelous suction, and she realized she was 
jerking his cock so hard that his loins were plunging at her as if he were 
ready to shoot his youthful load onto the sweating, smooth roundness of her 
belly, into the crisp bush of her cunt hair. 

"Unh-unh!" she said into his dusty smelling hair. "No way! Push a little, 
sweetie! Oooohh! That's the place! Yeah, yeah! Push a little harder!" 

The head of it was in her cunt. She had time to think, I don't even know if 
he's bigger than Jerry, and I don't care! And she had pushed, also, pushed 
her sweetly craving cunt onto it and down and around so that her wet, hairy 
mound was now against his, and he was deep in, up her cunt as far as he 
could go, moving something very tender and good-feeling inside her vagina, 
and she felt the fuck-muscles begin their slip and slide, grab and kiss, 
relax and clamp back again, on this wonderful, hot, rigid bar of young meat. 
i wish you weren't so short, baby, she said in her mind. I wish I had your 
tongue to suck on while you're fucking me! 

Somehow, the thought gave her eyes to see with, to see up inside in the 
complete dark of her flowing pussy, seeing the pink lining as it would look 
under a light, seeing the surface veins swollen and dark red, like the veins 
in her inner labia when she was hot enough to cum. I love this sideways 
fucking, she thought, giving her partner a powerful bump of her lower body, 
feeling the strong muscles of her buttocks contract over her anus, feeling a 
sweet, wild sharpness in her rectum as she clenched her ass to make her 
vaginal muscles cling tighter. 

The desire to be fucked in the ass swept over her like a hot wind off the 
desert, and she was conscious of all of her cuntal area, the hairy mound, 
the thick outer lips carrying the hair down into the cleft of her ass, 
scattering them out down her thighs, the bruised and happy labia, the softly 
muscled hole closed around the glistening stem of this boy's cock, the dark 
valley below her pussy, now filled with her cunt's goo as it pumped out 
under the hard drive of this youngster. There was her puckered ass-hole, 
wildly aroused. Had that dark man, in his quick attack, gotten a finger into 
her back there? 

The wave of cum-fire shook her entire body, but she held on to her cool, 
wanting to feel this strange kid shoot his load of living seed into her, 
wanting to feel the wet heat blast through her, to sense the hot spilling of 
his jism on her womb. 

To take her mind off her approaching orgasm she nuzzled at his head, and he 
blindly turned his face up, only his mouth open, and she fed him her tongue, 
rejoicing that he had so mutely begged for it. One of his hands went around 
her, his arm was powerful, fantastically strong, and his hand went straight 
into that slippery cleft between her ass cheeks. 

She almost stopped the movement of her body almost let the gentle clench and 
release of cunt muscle stop as she felt his cock swell and then shoot, swell 
and then shoot, each time giving her inner cunt walls a red hot wash of 
sperm. He seemed to cum and cum, long throbs and powerful gushes of semen, 
and her neck ached, her jaws were tired with the effort it cost to hold off 
her own blast of cum-fury. Until at last she could wait no longer, and the 
orgasm began far up inside her, pinching her vagina sharply and painfully, 
swelling up from her clitoris, which felt as if it would surely burst, and 
each throb of cumming seemed to swell in her belly, a hot need so great that 
her other parts, her clit, her cunt, simply carried out their function of 
easing the fuck-power out of her before she exploded. 

For that sliver of enchanted time on the crisp grass and the softly turned 
earth, she had winged away from the world, gone briefly into that heaven of 
sensuality which does not come often, and she realized that this had truly 
been a magic joining of male and female, herself a gourmet of cunt rapture, 
and an undersized unknown boy, fucking in a desperate desire to give and to 
receive. 

She cuddled him to her body, wanting all of his freshness and smoothness 
pressed into her, trying to hold his cock inside her slack and slippery 
pussy. His face was still turned up, his eyes still closed, and she had her 
left hand behind his head, cradling him like the baby she had never had and 
always wanted. His hand, which had pressed so marvelously against her 
sensitized ass-hole, lay soft and warm on her hip now. 

With a deep sense of loss, she felt the itching slip as her tightness 
expelled his limp prick, and she moved so that the small, sticky morsel of 
meat would be against her warm belly. She could not remember a time in her 
life when she had been any more grateful for being a woman, for having a 
cunt, for owning the gift of peace and manhood for the males who needed it. 

She was content. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

The years of being taught as well as the years of teaching had made Mala 
empathetic to younger people of both sexes; possibly it had strengthened her 
yearning to help anyone, regardless of age or sex. It was not in her to 
bestow a sex experience on someone like this young male and then get up and 
walk away; the giving experience and the leaching experience demanded more 
than that from her. 

She had put the short tunic on again and was on her naked ass, letting the 
jism and her cunt-juice ooze out on the boy's blanket, holding gently onto 
his shrunken prick, inclined to be amused at her interest in it while it was 
in this state. 

She felt that he was awake, and she whispered: "My name's-uh-Molly. That's 
short for Margaret. What's your name?" 

He moved his face against her bare thigh, and she felt him kissing her skin. 
"Roy," he said. "Roy Flack. I'm new here." 

With a start, she remembered him; the name was unusual; he had registered 
only today Thank God for the wig, she thought. She remembered that he had 
been timid and shy, but had certainly looked thoroughly at her tits. She was 
also glad that she had called herself Molly rather than Mala; that would 
have, indeed, been a slip of Olympic proportions. Her name, MALA PETERS, had 
been on a large recognition sign for all to see who registered and were 
assigned; the name Mala was uncommon, and, in spite of Lew Jonas's promises, 
she would not court disaster. 

"I'm from down the coast, myself," she said. "This is my first time here. I 
guess it is for you too, isn't it?" 

"Yeah," he said. "But we've got a place like it, up home. In Citrus City. I 
never had any luck up there, and if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have 
had any luck here, either." 

There was a movement just above them and looked up. It was Jerry, with the 
bright-eyed little Sue Carter hanging on to his arm. They'll know he fucked 
her, the smart ones at school, thought proudly. And I did it for him "Hi," 
she said to them. "Sit down. I'm Molly, this is Roy. He's new here. And I 
live down the coast." 

"Hey, something's familiar about you, I mean, like I maybe know you," Sue 
bubbled. She shook hands, and her soft little paw was sticky with Jerry's 
jism. He looked different, too, with some dark smears on his face, a few 
dark splatters on his shirt. 

"Hey, I know!" the girl said. "You were with another girl. She looked like 
me!" The child burst out laughing. "I saw her a few minutes ago with a 
friend of mine." 

"Guy named Timmy Schultz," Jerry said. "He like to shit when I walked past 
them with Sue, here. My name's Jerry," he said. "Forgot to introduce myself. 
Sorry. Anyhow, old Tim did a double take." He laughed reminiscently. "He 
wanted Sue tonight, but I got her! Didn't I, baby?" 

The young girl, sitting cross-legged on the blanket, hugged Jerry's arm 
rapturously. "You got me, all right, baby! You really got me!" She moved 
nervously. "Hey, I'm leaking on somebody's blanket. I hope it's all right!" 
Jerry leaned close to Mala. "Sue was cherry," said. "I got it, can you 
believe? This is blood on my face. I sucked her out, after we fucked. I got 
her blood all over my shirt, ain't that something?" was almost bursting with 
pride. "What do you think of that?" 

Roy, bless him, laughed. "It's wonderful," he said. "But I wouldn't trade if 
you threw in your car. This chick here, this Molly, she's wonderful!" He 
stopped quickly, and Mala realized that his voice had choked with emotion. 

Jerry and Sue got up and walked away. "See you," they all chorused. And Mala 
kissed Roy. 

"I meant to ask you awhile ago," she said, "where did you get those 
muscles?" She felt his upper arm; it was like a model in a book on anatomy, 
perfectly formed, perfectly balanced. 

His smile was happy. "Workouts," he said. "I'm not big enough for football, 
but I'm crazy about gym. I wonder if they'd let me be on their team, here. 
It's supposed to be pretty good." He touched her shyly, running his hand 
down the upper slope of her breast. "I hope I was all right," he said. "Did 
I tell you? I never did this before. Not with a nice girl." 

Mala kissed him, a long, sweetly tonguing kiss, and held on to his young 
cock, run out just a bit during the conversation with Jerry and Sue. 

"But you've done it before?" she asked, smiling. 

"Yeah," he said. "One of the guys up home brought a, uh, one of those 
ladies, well, you know." He was embarrassed. 

"A whore," Mala said. "I think that's fine! Was she cute? Was she young? Did 
you like her?" 

"Oh, sure, Molly! She got paid for it, but she was from up at Convoy State, 
you know, a student. She had to get money for college, she said. Boy, she 
was pretty wild!" 

"What did she do?" Mala asked softly. "How many guys did she take on? I 
might want to try it, myself," she said, "in case my money doesn't hold 
out." 

The kid grabbed her arm. "No!" he said. "Not you! She was okay, I guess, but 
she sucked me! Sucked my peter," he said. 

Mala began to laugh. "Roll over on your back," she ordered. "Go on, I mean 
it!" 

Slowly, softly, as soon as he was flat, she took his young cock into her 
mouth, gently cleansing it of congealing sperm, of her own leftovers, 
holding his balls in one hand as she squeezed the stem of it with the other, 
looking at him out of the corners of her eyes. 

He had started up as she began, but now he lay quietly, and soon, as his 
cock hardened in her mouth, he laughed. "See," he whispered, "I'm a real 
jerk. I acted like it was terrible for a girl to suck. Just shows what a 
dummy I am." He put his hand on her head and pressed it down, since he was 
really hard by now and instinctively wanted that closure of her throat on 
his cockhead. They learn so fast, Mala thought wryly. Right out of mama's 
womb and into sex! 

She sucked harder, moving her body so that her lovely ass, in all its 
divided lusciousness, was near his shoulder. She felt his hand slide between 
her thighs, in one of the sweetest gestures a woman can ever know, one she 
can never tire of, and she thought for a fleeting second about that young 
whore. What a bittersweet joy, to spend her passion on whatever man or boy 
had a hard-on and a few dollars, sometimes unable to know the glory of a cum 
because someone couldn't hold it; unwilling to waste the time to get the 
cock hard again and have a real orgasm, since another customer might be 
waiting. 

She felt Roy's fingers probing into her, and moved her ass so that she would 
get the most feel out of it, so that his knuckles grazed her clit as she 
bobbed and weaved, sucking harder on his rigid, sweetly rank cock. Just 
about the same size as Jerry's, she said in her mind, and knew it didn't 
matter. Hard enough to get in, long enough to touch the tenderness just 
inside, thick enough to make a little friction. The thought made her cunt 
nip at Roy's fingers, and he bumped delightedly, striking deep into her 
throat. His other hand went up between them to milk her breasts, one after 
the other, and he suddenly withdrew his seeking hand and said: "Molly! 
Listen, Molly! Can I, you know, have you? I mean, can you get over my face, 
so I can suck you? That guy, Jerry, he said he sucked Sue. And I know guys 
do it! Please?" 

Without taking his prick from her mouth, Mala moved, lifted a strong thigh, 
and settled her streaming twat over his mouth. 

And, as he began to suck, he also began to cum. and as he began to cum, she 
felt it start in her bowels again, the gut ache of violence, the beauty of 
orgasm, the racking desire turning to wet fire in her body, the itch of lust 
rising in her. 

It was as sweet as their first time, and little Roy, his young face in 
earnest appeal, begged her not to leave him. There were cars starting up and 
feeling their way out of the dark dirt lane and on to the curving highway 
that ran inland through Rancho Rico and El Portal and on to the desert. 

"I promise you, I'll call you," she whispered, kissing him. "I loved your 
cock. I love the idea that you, well, aren't so experienced that you're 
tired of it." 

"I love everything about you," he vowed. "The way you talk! Wow! Cunt and 
cock and fuck! Do all girls talk that way?" 

"After they know you," Mala said. "But you'd better know them before you 
start talking that way!" She laughed, highly pleased with herself and her 
life. "I promise, I'll see you soon. And listen, go get registered for that 
gym team! I'll bet you can still make it!" 

She walked slowly down the scattered line of cars. Kids were still leaving, 
and she saw that Jerry had left. The soft night air felt good on her skin, 
on her bare thighs as they rubbed together, slick goo making them hiss as 
they met and rubbed and separated. The big boy she recognized as Timmy 
Schultz was leaning against Mae's car, looking down at her, and both of them 
were laughing. The boy looked up at her and stuck out his big paw. 

"I'm Tim Schultz," he said. "M'friends call me Timmy! That's right, ain't 
it, angel?" He squeezed one of Mae's opulent breasts. "Baby!" he said, 
"You're the greatest!" 

"I'm Margaret," Mala announced. "My pals call me Molly. Irish, you know." 
She was pleased by Mae's poker face. That woman knew how to meet any 
situation! 

Timmy turned back to kiss the tiny woman, old enough to be his mother's 
older sister, and said: "I'm so damn lucky! I could've been out here with a 
dumb kid fourteen years old! Mary Frances, here," he said to Mala, "is ten 
times as good as some dumb high school chickie. Wow! I'm getting a hard-on 
again, just thinking about it! Look!" 

He waved a big cock, of which he was obviously proud, at the two women, and 
Mae said: "Timmy-likes the idea of us college girls coming down here and 
mixing with the kids." She bent and kissed his cock, stood on tiptoe to kiss 
him, and tossed her sleeping bag into the car. "Come on, Molly,' she said, 
"I've got to get in before the house mother holds bed check!" 

She hugged the big high school stud, her face against his chest. "I can't 
give you my phone number," she said. "I'd be in real trouble! But I promise 
you, solemnly promise you, I'll call you Baby, believe me," she said 
earnestly, "You car have me any time; just let me set the time and the 
place. I'd crawl over a hundred college boys to get to your cock!" 

When they had finally broken away, their car among the last six or eight to 
leave, Mae leaned against Mala, who put her arm around the smaller woman. 
Her hand naturally fell on Mae's soft, heavy breast, and she fooled around 
with the open PJ top until she had her hand on the warm, smooth flesh, 
feeling the nipple harden between her fingers. 

"Mala," the little woman said in a low, shaking voice, "You've taught me the 
meaning of love, the meaning of friendship." 

"Mae," the younger woman laughed, comfortable in her life at this moment, 
"you're beautiful, you know that? And I love you too. It was a lovely 
evening, wasn't it?" 

"Wow! As the kids say so properly, wow!" Mae replied. "It was like you said 
or guessed. But even if Timmy hadn't been there, I know, now, that I would 
have gotten it, and plenty of it. Mala, this means a lot to me. Those kids! 
Tim really thought I was nineteen! You wouldn't believe how he fucked!" 

She rubbed her beautiful little belly, laughing ruefully. 

"I feel like I'm real loose up inside," she said. "Poor old Charles! Well, 
what right have I got to expect a man fifty years old to fuck every night? 
Anyhow," she giggled, "I doubt I could do it, either! But that Tim! Wow!" 

They showered together in Mala's cottage, soaping each other, sticking a 
slick finger into a slicker twat, giggling with the joyously carefree thrill 
of feeling like schoolgirls. 

"Which we were, tonight," Mae chortled. "All I want is for Charles to join a 
service club, a political committee, a church group and a bowling team." She 
goosed Mala, her small finger hitting almost directly into the blonde's 
ass-hole, setting up that sharp desire to be fucked in the rectum. 

They heard a knocking at the door, and Mala, knowing it could be Mister 
Charles, went to the door, slipping the chain off as she saw the shining 
face of young Jerry. 

He hugged Mala and pinched her breast, saying: "Did you ever see a young kid 
with tits like Sue? Hey, how's about getting into the shower with you two?" 

He held a soapy Mae, his cock fat but now, alas incapable of another 
erection. His face was merry "Remember what I asked you a minute ago?' he 
said to Mala. "Did you ever see a young kid with tits like Sue's, you know? 
Here's one! Mary Frances Leopold, from some dumb junior college down the 
coast!" He kissed her. "Honest, Miss Charles, you're so wonderful!" 

Mala patted his lean, strong butt. "Glad you had a good time," she said. 
"You got yourself maidenhead. How'd you get rid of the blood? It must have 
been exciting." 

"God!" the kid swore. "T thought I'd never get it into her. She kept pushing 
up and groaning and cussing, telling me I had no business being so God 
damned big! How about that! Until finally it broke. Hot damn, what a 
feeling! I must have cum a quart! You know something? I fucked her twice 
more!" 

"Not counting going down on her." Mala observed dryly. 

"Oh, that!" the boy said. "Yeah, I got so hot, seeing that blood, I just had 
to suck her off. Man, she's going to be a hot number! Says she wants to fuck 
every boy in school! And says she'll get me another girl as soon as we, 
well, get tired of each other." He grinned shyly. "She's a lovely person. 
Everybody's lovely! All of us!" 

And he began to cry. 

Mala gave him a drink, they calmed him down, and he and Mae went to the big 
house together, arm in arm. Mala, looking after them with a maternal smile, 
closed the door and went to the bed, turning out the last light, yearning 
for rest. 

It had been a marvelous day. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

On Monday morning, Jerry watched with interest and pride as Mala dressed for 
her first teaching day at Oakdale. They had decided that from now on, 
barring car trouble, they would go to school in their own cars. "Because, if 
you make the gym team, baby, and the judging is close, I don't want some 
sore loser saying we're too much together," Mala had said. 

Seated on her bed, with his arms around her, his face on her warm, bare 
belly's smoothness, his chin tickled by her pubic hair, Jerry had laughed. 

"As long as they don't try to regulate what we do in practice sessions, it's 
all right," he had said. 

"Feel this fabric," Mala said on this lovely, bright Monday. "I had these 
leotards made in Germany; they're like skin. Isn't it crazy? I hate panty 
hose, I hate underwear, and yet I love the feel of my working clothes, these 
things, tights, whatever. A state of mind." 

She sat on the bed and pulled the tights up to her thighs, stood up to 
complete the job, and Jerry lovingly put his hand on the soft lips of her 
pussy before she closed it off with the garment. "First time I've felt it 
when it was dry," he observed. 

Mala smiled down at him. 'I've got a plug in it," she said. "It's either 
that or wear panties under the tights, and that's too much." 

"They really are like skin," the boy judged. "I can see every teeny wrinkle 
in your nipples. And every hair on your cunt. When you bent over a minute 
ago, I could see your ass-hole, plain as day." 

She put on a hip-length robe of raw silk, and the lightest of ballet 
slippers. "I keep the kimono in except when I'm demonstrating a turn," she 
said, "and when I'm in action, you don't notice the details." They both 
giggled at this. 

It was fine at school. Two classes in the morning, one for eighth and ninth 
graders bussed over from Brandeis Junior High, and two after lunch, for 
older kids. Mala was strangely excited when Roy Flack appeared for the 
morning class for the tenth grade. She was busy with routine paperwork, 
checking each member of the class for their experience, and young Roy 
floored her with his list of accomplishments. High-low bars, parallel bars, 
the horse, tumbling. He also listed the rings, which meant, of course, the 
he did handstands. 

He was the only one of the boys who was fitted with "pro" type tights, and 
she watched him as he did a few slow walkovers, fascinated with his skill 
and style. 

"You must come out for our gym team," she told him at End of the period. 
"You're new here, and so am I; wouldn't it be nice if the two of us helped 
bring a championship to Oakdale in our first year?" 

He had ducked his head and blushed, but when she saw him in the cafeteria, 
in street clothes, he came over to thank her. 

"I'll sure work my tail off for you-oh, pardon me, Miss Peters! I mean I'll 
work real hard. I just hope I'm good enough for the team." And he blushed 
again when she said to him in a low voice: "You're good enough, baby! Don't 
ever worry about that!" 

He looked at her curiously. "You sure are like someone I know," he said. 
"But I can't remember who. Or where." 

He walked away frowning, and Mala chuckled inwardly. Sooner or later, he'd 
know who and where, if only because she couldn't keep her hands off him for 
long. It had been plain that he had not worn a jockstrap; his manly young 
cock and balls had been displayed in touching candor when he had done the 
walkovers and split handstands. She could talk to him about that; show his 
the reason for protecting his lovely young jewels. 

In the first of the afternoon classes, Jerry was registered and Mala, 
checking him in, joked with him in a quiet voice as she perfunctorily noted 
his various specialties, which she already knew. "You've left off some of 
your indoor gymnastics," she quipped as he handed her his card, and flashed 
her right breast at him, since no one else could see. 

"They don't grade for that," he laughed. "Anyhow, I'm a freshman in that 
line. Timmy Schultz is in your next class; maybe you could get him to show 
his credentials." 

Two days went by, and a third; Thursday passed, and Friday brought the first 
mass tryout for team breakdowns. Little Sue Carter, delightful in pink 
tights and surprisingly graceful in free exercises, dropped panting on a mat 
by Mala as the new coach watched each youngster go through basic exercises. 

"Did you ever know anyone from up at Citrus Jaycee?" the big-titted child 
asked Mala during a break. "A friend of mine-you know him, he's in your late 
class, Tim Schultz. He met this college chick, and he's sure flipped for 
her. Name's Mary Frances Something, and he can't find her." 

Mala considered, turning her right hand up, then back. 

"I never taught there," she stalled. "My teams have met them in dual meets. 
All I would get is last names, anyhow. Is this chick a gymnast?" 

The little girl giggled, her face scarlet. "To hear Timmy tell it, she is," 
and hugged herself as she laughed at her own joke. 

Mala grinned. "That kind of a gymnast, hey?" she said. "I've heard that 
Timmy would know." And then, looking straight at the flushed, beautiful 
young face: "When did you meet her? And where? And why are you so 
interested?" 

It was very tough, in a way, challenging a girl so young, but Mala was 
interested in building a bridge of confidence to as many of these kids as 
she could. So I can really help them, she thought. The sweet things think 
they're so wise, when they're really so vulnerable Sue looked confused. Then 
she touched Mala's hand. "You're some kind of a mind reader. You know 
there's something, uh, sort of offbeat in what I said, don't you?" She 
looked at Mala very seriously. "It gets kind of mixed for a girl sometimes, 
doesn't it?" she asked, and Mala said abruptly: "If it weren't for all these 
people around, my dear, I'd kiss you!" 

She felt herself more affected by this exchange than the young chick; she 
knew pain from a sudden stoppage of breath, and her cunt, decently closed by 
her second tampon of the day, to guard against wetting her crotch with her 
generous distilling of vaginal juices, throbbed without reason. Without any 
reason except the sudden vision of that appealing, touchingly young cunt in 
pink tights, its perfume coming up to her, and Mala, desperately fighting 
her desire for something much more "offbeat" than Sue could have imagined, 
was reminded of the duality of her sexual experience. 

It must have showed in her face, too, because the fresh-faced youngster, 
struggling to understand, leaned hard against her coach and teacher, her big 
soft breasts pressing on Mala's arm, and burrowed into the warm resilience 
of the older woman's breasts. 

Somehow, Mala got through the day, her entire sexual apparatus in a chaotic 
storm of fuck-hunger, cock-need, cunt-interest, until she was grateful when 
the final class was over and she could flee to her neat, comfortable 
sanctuary on the Jonas estate. 

And she had a simply marvelous surprise. 

Little Roy Flack, his thin and earnest young face looking dubious, was 
sitting on her front stoop, looking more than a little sweated, but smiling 
hopefully. 

"You said if you had time, you'd give me a little personal instruction, Miss 
Peters," he said shyly. "So I jogged over here. I knew where you lived," he 
added unnecessarily. 

She was so pleased, so happy with it all, that she had to watch herself to 
keep from babbling like a schoolgirl. 

"We'll certainly do that, Roy," she assured him. "There's something I wanted 
to tell you, anyhow, and now's my chance." 

Once inside, she latched the door and checked both other entrances, and 
faced the shy boy, her face glowing. "Gee, Roy, this is great!" she said. "I 
look to you to be a real leader in our gym group. I think you've got what it 
takes. You seem older than the other kids. By the way, how old are you?" 

He gulped. "I'm sixteen," he said. "Nearly seventeen. I'd look older if I 
was bigger, I expect." 

She put her hand on his shoulder. "Forget about that!" she ordered. "You're 
big enough. And old enough, too!" She thought of last Friday night, with 
this young kid's cock in her, giving her such pleasure, leaving her content. 
Something more than simple sex; a communion of what? Spirit? Mind? 

"I'm not trying to test you," she said to him, "but I've got an idea I want 
to advance to you. You tell me what you think of it, right? Okay!" She drew 
a deep breath, then went on. 

"In five or six, maybe more big high schools up where I've been working, 
they're knocking down all barriers between the sexes. You know what I mean? 
Boys competing with girls, girls going out for boys' teams, track, tennis, 
volleyball, gym. Have you heard of that?" 

"Sure, Miss Peters. I heard that Mister Jonas is all for it here in the 
Santa Vaquita area. At Oakdale, especially." 

"Yes. That's great! You know what the first step is, don't you, Roy? The 
real first step? It's-mingling. Traveling together, showering together, 
everything honest-to-God coed." 

He grinned weakly, then squared his shoulders, looked at her breasts, so 
plain to see, now that she had shucked out of the silk robe, and his smile 
really turned her on. 

"Wow!" he ejaculated. "That ought to get every guy in school out for gym!" 
He flushed. "Excuse me," he apologized. "That's a dumb thing to say!" 

She put her arm around him and hugged him close. "No such thing! It's true. 
But we can't publicize it. Can't even mention it for the time being. Have 
every old hen in the Santa Vaquita down on us like gangbusters. But you and 
I are going to do a little pioneering. Right now!" 

He looked at her unbelievingly. "You don't mean that you, that I. . . ? " 
and he stopped, his face turning scarlet but alive with a deep interest. 

"I sure as hell do," Mala assured him. "You and I, that exactly what I mean. 
If we can do it, shower together, without either of us being confused, or 
fussed, or silly, we'll know it can be done by everyone. That'd be a big day 
for Oakdale, wouldn't it?" 

She turned her back to him. "There's a zipper at my collar," she said. "Pull 
it down for me, will you? And then start getting undressed. Let's get it on, 
Flack!" 

She turned around to him, reaching up to her shoulders to peel the long 
sleeves down and off, and of course her fantastic breasts popped into view, 
jiggling with the mild activity, and she kept her face in a merry grin, 
although she was sober enough inside, watching for the slender boy's 
reactions. 

He stared at her unbelievingly for only a second, then, with a gusting 
laugh, he got out of his slacks and pulled his knit shirt over his head. 
"You said neither of us was to get silly. Miss Peters," he said, his voice 
croaking slightly, "but you're going to have to help me! I don't know for 
sure what you mean. And I've got, well, this sort of problem." 

He began to tug at the waistband of his shorts, and Mala, knowing exactly 
what the problem was, helped him. Sure enough, there it was, the beginnings 
of a big hard-on. 

"I couldn't help it," the boy whispered. "I hope it doesn't ruin things." 

"Not at all," Mala said in a crisp voice. "Have to expect it. Girls don't 
get, uh, erections, but you can bet, they feel plenty of interest. First few 
times, anyway. Don't worry about me, Roy; I've been through this before!" 

She led him into the gorgeous shower, turned the main mixing faucet to 
medium, and began turning on various nozzles, top row, middle row, bottom 
row. "Come on in," she said. "Get close to me. Come on, Flack, I mean really 
close! Remember, we may be showering in hotel rooms on trips, three or four 
boys and girls in one tub!" 

She drew him close to her, and deliberately reached down with a soapy 
washcloth and rubbed around his cock, which was almost up to its full size. 
"You've really got a beauty, there," she said, surprised that she was able 
to control her voice so well. "That ought to keep up the girl interest." 

He was giggling, now, his eyes bright. "Say, this is pretty good! Let me do 
you!" He had his own washcloth, and he reached gingerly between Mala's legs, 
but she laughed at him. 

"Don't be so prudish, Flack!" she admonished. "Drop the cloth. Here, your 
hand's got plenty of suds on it!" 

She wiped his young fingers directly into her twat, which she had forgotten 
to unplug, and felt a furious rush of heat in every nerve. I've got to get 
more than Jerry can give me, she thought desperately, now that he's taking 
care of young Sue! 

She murmured: "Excuse me, baby," in a whisper, and pulled the sopping tampon 
out by its string, tossing it in a corner. 

"Hey," Roy's voice was alert, "you got your period? Must be over it; no 
blood!" 

She stared at him dumbly, and he looked abashed. "I've got three sisters, 
older'n I am, and a mother; I guess I never learned to be careful about what 
I say around women." 

Mala hugged him to her, grasping his cock with her soapy hands, jerking it 
good and hard, back and forth. "You sweet thing," she said, "no wonder I 
felt so at home with you! I've got four brothers and two sisters. No, my 
period's due in a couple of days. That," and she pointed to the tampon, "is 
to keep my silly old twat from leaking all over me! Did your sisters ever 
have to do that?" 

He was rubbing against her, now, trying to hold the circumference of her 
slick breast, and his voice was husky. "They told me everything," he said. 
"They helped me-well, hell, they kept me from going crazy, jerking off!" 

He looked angry, his face suffused with the scarlet tide of a blush, and 
Mala pulled his head down to her breast. 

"You can tell me later," she said. "If you want to." 

She gave him a big towel and they helped each other dry off. "Get my pussy, 
silly!" she said with mock severity. "You boys, you just don't know how to 
dry a girl off." 

"I never heard of drying one off," the lad joked. "Jerking, now, that's 
different!" He laughed and kissed her on one of her damp breasts, and she 
thought of this boy, too shy to chase girls, taken in hand by sympathetic 
sisters, taught what to do, how to do it. Must have started a long time ago. 
And yet he was still shy. And then she had another idea. 

"Listen, Roy," she said to him. "Tell the truth. Are you really afraid of 
girls? Or do you just use your small size, and your acting ability, to get 
all the pussy you want?" 

She had him by the hard cock, now, and backed him up to the bed, forcing him 
down. "Back up," she demanded. "Further." 

She took his cock in her mouth, then took it off. "I just want to get it 
lubricated," she whispered, grinning at him. "You're not fooling me, you 
villain!" She sucked again, so hard and well that his skinny butt raised off 
the bed, and his hands grabbed at the sides of her head, pulling her down on 
it. 

"That's wet enough," she said. "I'm going to jerk you off, right in my face. 
Don't worry, baby, I can jerk you off better than you can. Remember, I had 
four brothers! Oooohh! I love this! Look at that big old red head!" 

She was moving the cloaking softness of skin back and forth, kneeling in 
front of him, between his thighs, with her thumb pointed toward him, her 
fingers up. The big cock, its head shiny with the distension of engorged 
blood, was slipping out under her little finger, and she kissed it, licking 
the drop of clear pre-cum fluid from its little slit. Roy groaned. 

"You'd better groan, you little devil," Mala jeered. "You betrayer of 
helpless girls!" She laughed in her throat, and held her hand still, letting 
a big gob of saliva drop in amongst her fingers so that the head and most of 
the foreskin were now bathed in slick spit. Her cunt gave her a sudden 
shiver of warning, and she held her body still, closing her eyes. 

"You want to shoot this load in my face?" she asked. "Or on my tits, my 
belly? Let it run down in my cunt hair? You must have gotten your poor 
sisters to do all those things for you!" She jerked very gently now, knowing 
that this wise little kid was hanging on to his control, even as she was, 
and she looked with deep joy at his intent young face. I'm so fucking lucky, 
she told herself, finding a Jerry Jonas with so much native talent, and a 
wise little bastard like this. 

"Let me feel your cunt!" he whispered raggedly. "I'm about to unload it, 
Miss Peters. Move up, let me get my fingers up your pussy. Ohhhhh! God damn! 
Quick! I'm about to cum!" 

She pulled him down and onto his side, trying to keep some semblance of 
control, raising her right leg so he could have a clear passage to her cunt, 
which had already begun its slow throb of release from her pent-up sex fury. 
She could feel his fingers go in, feel the skill with which he moved them 
and then his thumb struck her clit and she let go. Let go as far as her own 
orgasm was concerned, but held on for his. 

His cock had suddenly throbbed and grown larger in her grasp, and now she 
saw it, the little hole pointing right at her ecstatic face; the head had 
turned purple, looked ready to burst, and a long, white rope of jism shot 
out of the threatening ball of flesh, hitting her so hard that it stung. 

He was cumming in a torrent of heat and pleasure, the long throbs of flame 
seeming to roll out over Roy's hand onto her, onto the bed, and she kept 
aiming the red cock at her mouth, catching most of it, swallowing it, but 
just as intrigued by the milky, slick spattering on her breasts. 

She was on fire all through, and realized that the boy was giving her 
breasts the most brutal love that he could, squeezing them into blue-veined 
mouthfuls of tit flesh that squished out between his hard fingers, first one 
hand and then another, alternating between jabbing them deep up her cunt and 
pulling her breasts half-off, it seemed in her cum-crazed mind. 

He let her suck him a long time, and she made it as gentle as she could, 
knowing how sensitive his cock was, and she lifted her breasts to lick the 
lost semen off them. 

"That was pretty wild," she whispered at last, and the boy sat up, looking 
pretty wild himself. 

"I've sure played hell," he said. "You'll probably kick my ass out of your 
class, off your team. I guess mom's right; I'm too much when it comes to 
sex!" 

"Your mom?" Mala gasped. "Not her, too?" 

"No!" the kid said. "Not mom! But she caught me with my sisters. And she 
didn't care about that. Said it might keep me from knocking one of the 
neighborhood girls up. And they were all on The Pill. God!" he muttered. "I 
just dig to fuck!" 

"You got a pretty good one out at Garth's a week ago," Mala said, watching 
him start, pleased at his look of alarm. "Pulled that old 'poor little me' 
trick, didn't you?" 

He got up and moved away. "You're too much," he said. "Who tells you all 
this, Miss Peters?" 

She laughed at him, fingering one of her gorgeous tits, and he groaned 
suddenly, coming back to get on the bed with her. "They're gorgeous," he 
said huskily. "Even if I am in trouble for fucking a teacher." He held her 
breast, looking at her pleadingly, and ducked down to suck it. 

She pulled away and got up, laughing. "Cut out the drama, you little clown," 
she said. "Watch this." She opened a drawer in her bureau and carefully, not 
looking at Roy, put on the wig she had worn the past Friday. "Now, how do 
you like me?" 

He stared at her, goggle-eyed. "I don't believe it," he gasped. "Jesus were 
you ever good! I was going down to Garth's again tonight, just hoping I'd 
see that girl. Molly! Be damned!" He reached out his arms to her, and she 
went to him. He hugged her, burying his face in her fragrant bush of cunt 
hair, and slyly pushed his tongue into her slit, making her leap when it 
struck her excited clit. 

"You're the best," he muttered. "You're better than any of my sisters. Even 
better than my oldest sister. And she's thirty-three!" He smiled weakly. 
"That's on the level, Miss Peters!" 

"Practice makes perfect, kid," Mala said, grinning. "And listen, seeing that 
we've fucked and sucked and God knows what else, maybe you'd better call me 
Mala! Okay?" She hugged him with real good humor, real affection. "You beat 
anything I ever saw, except my youngest brother. 

And don't ever repeat that, because I'll just say you lied, okay? Now, baby, 
move over and let's get it up again. I'm going to fix it so that if you go 
down to that fuck-farm, it'll be as a spectator!" 

 CHAPTER TEN 

That was one of the most magnificently satisfying days of Mala Peters's 
life. There had been triumphs more spectacular, shared with more people, 
certainly. But international glories, even in the glamorous world of women's 
gymnastics, where every male spectator is dazed with the thought of his cock 
being massaged by those superbly trained cunt muscles, soon fade. And now 
that she was thirty, such opportunities would not come again. Mala knew it 
and accepted it. 

She was not insecure. She had her investments. Being a teacher, a coach, had 
its spiritual rewards. But, on a day like this, capping a week like this, 
she had the greatest gift of all. 

Sex! 

A deep, enduring knowledge that here, in this small area, she had found what 
was more important to her than any fading glories-the promise of a full, 
free, continuing use of her marvelous powers of sex. 

In young Jerry Jonas she had found something unbelievable. An eager, naive 
boy, bursting with the male need and the male impulse to breed, to spread 
the legs of woman, to plunge a hard penis into an open, slavering, thirsting 
cunt, and thus, symbolically, to carry on the sacred work of procreation. 
Marvelous! 

And his need for instruction, his sweet, insistent demands for a warm pussy 
to caress and empty his strong young prick of its itching loads of sperm, 
what joy this gave to a mind like Mala's, a cunt like Mala's. 

And he was hers and always would be hers. She could share his love, his 
prick, with darling Mae, with the young and juicy Sue Carters of the world. 
But no man ever breaks loose from his first love, Mala knew. He was hers, 
and would be hers for as long as she wished. 

And now, something new and wonderful had been added. 

This acute, sexually precocious youngster who sat astride her chest, his 
hard muscled thighs holding her sensitive breasts smashed against her, his 
cock lying slack and sticky across her lips, its his-and-hers taste and 
smell in exactly the right place to give her the most pleasure. 

There was the deep ache of completion between her thighs, deep inside her, 
far up her pussy. "You'll have to go soon, baby," she whispered, his 
exhausted cock a tiny bit of pleasure. "It's close to my dinner time; 
someone will be calling me. I'll drive you home." 

He rolled off, laughing. "I hate to go," he said. "Tonight will be, well, 
sort of empty. Ninety-nine nights out of a hundred, Friday nights 
especially, I've had sex to think about. Pussies. Warm, slick, wet, 
pink-on-the-inside, hairy-on-the-outside pussies. Thinking about them, going 
out for some of that stuff. But tonight, all I'll think of is yours. And 
I'll be too tired to go out after any other." 

She suddenly felt a spiritual and bodily kinship with this skinny little boy 
that gave her a different sort of warmth from any she had ever known. She 
pulled him to her, feeling her thighs open as his hard body touched hers, 
feeling an unexpected throb in a vagina gone slack with hard fucking. 

She mumbled at his prick and got it into her mouth without using her hands, 
and lay quietly with her eyes closed, enjoying the softness and warmth of 
the big mouthful. He was holding her cunt lips open, too, gently kissing 
along the convoluted labia, licking with care and precision. 

After they had both dressed, he hugged her with his hand under her buttock, 
and she was thrilled with the maturity, the manliness, of this offhand 
gesture. He was secure with her. 

"Don't drive me home," he said. "I need the workout; I'll do it the Boy 
Scout way back home-walk a hundred steps, run a hundred. Oh, please, Mala, 
are you sure this is real? That you're not planning to lower the boom on 
me?" 

"Not as long as you come back soon," she promised, and stood watching him, 
every cell and every fiber in her pleased and warmly happy. 

She walked slowly to the house, looking forward to seeing Mae and Jerry, 
even to seeing Mister Charles and Esperanza, the maid. They were a part of 
her life, now; so soon become her family. She had Jerry, she had Roy. In a 
pinch, she could always find someone lovely at a place like Garth's. 

She had no desire to run and cartwheel and flip across the greensward on 
this Friday evening. There was a deeply pleasant soreness along the big 
tendons on the inside of her thighs, a lovely, raw feeling in the outer 
portions of her twat, a glowing, throbbing pain in her swollen tits. 

Some of this, most of it, perhaps, came from the sudden, unexpected, totally 
wild afternoon of fucking. And some, of course, from the onset of her 
period. A matter of days, possibly a matter of a few hours. She never had 
worried, never kept the sort of close track that some girls had. 

It was warmly amusing to Mala that both Mae and Jerry met her outside the 
house, on the driveway under the portico. The three of them had a secret; it 
had nothing to do with excluding Mister Charles, they all would have said. 
But it was theirs, an exclusive. And after all, would Mister Charles have 
understood if he had seen his wife kissing the Phys Ed teacher and gymnastic 
coach so deeply, or seen young Master Jonas with his hand between Miss 
Peters's legs? On her pussy, in fact? 

"Oh, baby, are you wet!" Jerry whispered. "I saw the door was closed. Who 
was it? Flack?" 

Mae giggled. "We had ours, too, didn't we, Jerry darling? Oh, Mala, we're so 
grateful to you! Jerry and I had two whole hours in his room-I must have 
fucked the poor baby completely out of his mind!" 

They kissed again, all around, and went in. It was such a happy time, so 
marvelous, promising so much for the future. To be so close to such loving 
people, to want so deeply to be a part of their lives, to have them as a 
part of her life, all this meant so much to Mala that she was swept by 
emotion. 

No one saw it except Jerry, and he waited until after dinner, until after 
Mae and her husband had gone to their quarters, until after Esperanza had 
cleaned up, and he and Mala were alone. She had walked over to a window, 
looking out across the grounds, warmly colored by the glare from a gorgeous 
sunset, and Jerry put his arm lightly around her. 

"Something's on your mind," he said. "Are you unhappy?" 

She felt a strong wave of love for him, for young Roy, for all the world. It 
was reaction, she knew, to this two weeks of fulfilling joy, of cock galore, 
of wild and lewd and boisterous fucking, and to the release from care that 
it had brought to her. She had been worried, up in Los Angeles. 

There was a quick run of wet heat along the inside of her thigh, and she 
shivered. Jerry, almost as if she had transferred an idea to him, put his 
hand under her skirt, up to her pussy, and she turned and clung to him, 
seeking his mouth blindly. 

"Watch your hand, darling," she whispered as she drew away. "I think it's my 
period." 

His face was glowing. "I want to see!" he said. "I want to look at it, watch 
it open up, watch the stuff come out!" He pressed hard against her aching 
breasts, raising a strange storm of desire in her body. 

"Come on to my room," he whispered. "Let's let me look at you there!" 

There was no blood on his hand when they got into the sanctuary of his big 
room, when she had let him peel her dress off, and had gotten on her hands 
and knees to let him look at the pouting slit of her pussy. 

"It feels enormous," she laughed. "It feels as if it were sticking out like 
kissing lips. Only so big and fat!" 

"It looks beautiful!" the boy whispered. "Oh, Mala, thanks for coming up 
here with me!" He stroked down her wet slit, almost sending her flat on the 
bed with the intensity of craving his gentle rub had aroused. "I want to 
suck it!" 

He pushed his face between her thighs, between her rounded buttocks, into 
the slickness of her divided cunt lips, and his. tender sucking made the 
woman shiver with pleasure. 

"Hey!" she said, "I thought you were all drained out after that two hours 
with Mae!" She put her hand back blindly, and he pulled it against his cock, 
now sticking out of his fly, where he had eased it a moment before. 

"Wow!" she giggled. "Doesn't look much like you're worn out! How about 
that!" 

He got up, licking his lips, running his tongue around them to get the 
sweetness of her cunt. 

"Were you unhappy awhile ago?" he asked, in the act of stripping down his 
jeans, his shorts. 

She was sitting up, now, her strong and beautiful thighs together, and she 
hugged her breasts, amazed that her body could feel so wanting, after such 
an afternoon of lust. There was the same flood of emotion she had felt at 
the table, and she closed her eyes and shuddered. 

"Everything seemed too wonderful, all at once, Jerry," she whispered, and 
knew the sting of tears behind her closed lids. Bittersweet, happiness and 
fear. 

He put out his hand and touched her, and she pressed it to her face. "Don't 
worry, dear; it's the full of the moon, and every woman's unstable 
emotionally when that comes around. You don't know it, but you're lucky to 
find it out from someone like me, who doesn't go under from a natural 
cause." 

He laughed deeply, feeling very much of a man, and his hand pressed against 
her face. "I want to suck it," he said firmly. "Then I want to shove it in 
you! From behind. Okay?" 

She was smiling as she got up and went once more to her hands and knees. "I 
love it this way," she said. "OOooohhh! I feel so leaky! And so puffed out!" 

He pressed his whole face deep into her long slit, his nose directly against 
her anus. His lips covered the aperture of her vagina; he sucked deeply, 
knowing that any second, such a vacuuming might bring a rush of bright 
menstrual blood. The thought made his cock throb very hard, gave him an 
electric thrill of pre-cum sensation. 

"I can cum like this, just from your sucking if you want, baby," Mala 
whispered. "Then I can suck you. Would that please you?" She suddenly felt a 
deep desire to please him. 

He was sucking again, and then stopped, his face drawn back. "Hey!" he said 
in an awed voice, "I never saw anything like this! Your ass-hole's working 
in and out; does it always do that when you're about to cum?" 

Mala, her emotions less turbulent, laughed softly. "I've never been able to 
watch," she said. "I expect so. There's a very powerful itch in my rectum 
whenever I'm excited sexually." 

She looked over her shoulder at him, her face looking extraordinarily young, 
flushed with passion and desire-He sucked twice or three times more, each 
time letting out a yip of glee. "You told me how good your ass-hole always 
felt when you were hot," he said. "I stuck my finger up my ass in the shower 
the other day. Wow! I never realized anybody's rectum had that kind of 
muscle. Stronger than in your pussy!" His voice was thick, excited, and Mala 
felt a rage of strange desire eating in her cunt, in her ass-hole. 

"If you want to try it, try to get it in my ass, you can, Jerry," she 
panted. "Have you got any vaseline? Any cold cream? It has to be something 
slick." 

She felt a slow burning, a craving, deep in her bowels, and was almost sick 
with need and with the fear he might falter. But he went quickly into his 
bathroom and came back with a tube of something. "This is slicker than 
anything else I know," he said huskily. "It's K-Y Jelly. I use it to jerk 
off!" 

She had her head down, her arms braced, her entire body trembling and hot 
with the crazy desire that swept her. "Shall I turn, baby, so that you can 
see it go in in the mirror?" she asked, and it was all she could do to get 
the words out. 

"Yes!" he cried. "Yes, yes! I want to see!" 

She turned and opened her thighs a little more, and felt the petals of her 
inner lips shrink from the cool air as her cunt opened. The boy was sideways 
to her, still on the floor, holding on to one of her breasts, and he said: 
"Good Christ!" in a choked voice, and almost tore the tender globe from her 
body in an excess of passion. "Oh, Mala, you're so wonderful!" 

He got behind her, and she felt a sudden, fierce pang in her anus, then 
deeper in her rectum, and she cried: "Wait! Go easy, for God's sake! Don't 
split me!" 

It was a violent sensation, not pain, but a pleasure based on pain, and her 
entire body was weak with the love of it, and with the knowledge that she 
would cum as soon as he got so much as the head of his cock into her 
ass-hole. 

But to her surprise, he giggled. 'It's only my thumb," he said. "I'm 
greasing you up; my thumb slipped in!" 

"Hurry, then!" she said between her teeth. The skin on her neck was 
crawling, her belly muscles were rippling with lust, her cunt felt as if it 
were eating itself. 

There was a greater pressure now on her acutely sensitive anus, a dreadful 
sense of strain, happy but fearful, and she shut her eyes in fear that she 
might faint from the pain before he got it in her, or from the joy, 
afterward. He had a big cock; it had to slide into a darker world of tighter 
muscles, unaided by natural lubrication, as her cunt was. 

There was a fresh burst of intense discomfort, as though she were giving 
birth to the most immense turd of her life, and her elbows buckled. Glancing 
to her left in the mirror, She saw that young Jerry's face was taut, his 
eyes closed with strain and expectation, and she thought: "Maybe I'm hurting 
him as much as he's hurting me!" And then, in happy shock, the realization 
struck through her: It's a hurt that I love! 

Perhaps the thought loosened her, relaxed her, for there was a blinding 
burst of sensation, a feeling as if her entire bottom had opened, and she 
saw in the mirror that his belly was against her tautly rounded rump, felt 
the bigness of his cock deep in her bowels, and as she went down on her 
elbows, her ass still up, against him, enclosing his long prick, she heard 
him cry out: "Oh, God, Mala! I've got it in your ass! I'm fucking you in 
your ass! Oh, God, Mala! It's marvelous!" 

There was a wild flood of orgasm shaking the woman, too; her cunt seemed to 
turn inside out in its wild spasms, which seemed all the more intense 
because there was no hard meat inside her writhing vagina. The fulfillment 
of having this boy's tool in her rectum, stirring the ultra sensitive nerve 
ends in that tender area, lifted her in raw delirium, and she screamed: "Oh, 
yes, baby! 

Fuck me good! Shoot your jism into mama's guts! Fuck me, my darling! 
Ooooohhh! OOooohhhh!" 

There was a great weight bearing down on her; in a moment of clarity between 
spasms of lust, she saw in the glass that the tall boy's hands were grasping 
for her tits. His weight was too much for her, and she fell prone, his cock 
still wildly pouring his slick seed into her bowels. He was pulling on her 
breasts, holding big handfuls of the soft tissue, and he was groaning: "Oh, 
Mala, it's so beautiful! Fucking's so beautiful! Oh, oh God! I'm still 
cumming!" 

The powerful muscles of her sphincter were still milking his cock as if they 
would draw it all the way through her colon, but the storm was subsiding. 

She was getting more clear of head and eye; she thought once more: This is 
too good to be true, this love, this sex, this tall, sweet boy fucking me so 
proudly. She felt grateful enough to cry, and then, in the mirror which 
showed them outlined against the dark paneled walls of Jerry's room, caught 
a movement in her peripheral vision. And her mind caved in. 

There could be no mistake. There in the crack of the door, plainly detailed 
in the bright light from the room, was Lew Jonas, his big, kindly face set 
in a mask-like gravity, as if he could not believe his eyes. 

And as Mala looked, with all her bright world, all her beautiful hopes 
falling in shabby ruins, the door was closed gently, soundlessly, and with 
it, the lovely future was closed, too. 

She would not hurt Jerry with her knowledge. She let him laugh and stroke 
her, and kiss her breasts, exclaiming over their size, over the rigid 
nipples so dark with blood. She lay smiling on her back as he sucked deeply 
of her twat, her cunt now so lax that he could get his tongue into it as far 
as he could reach. 

And, when he said laughingly: "You must be really wasted, not to buck and 
jump when I eat all the way to your womb," she patted his curly head and 
said softly, "You're my darling, Jerry; it just feels so sweet and wonderful 
to have your mouth on my cunt, to have your tongue way up me!" 

She got away as quickly as she could, and once she was outside, let the 
sick, angry tears flow. God damn it! she said in her mind. Why in hell did 
he have to come back now? 

She started to run, and felt a gush of hot fluid from her cunt, and knew 
angrily that this was, for certain, her menstrual flow, brought on by the 
massive heat of Jerry's fuck. 

like a baby, she wailed aloud, her thoughts black and rebellious: Why now? 
Damn it! When I'm not feeling too good anyhow! When I'm farting and sick and 
lonely! 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

When she was inside the guest house she ripped off her dress, turned on the 
shower, and washed herself, cleaning the blood from her beautiful thighs, 
jamming a tampon up her vagina. 

Every thought was pure agony, the luxury of the cottage which she was 
leaving, the mirror in which she had so enjoyed watching herself and Jerry, 
herself and Jerry and Mae, herself and young Roy Flack, all of it lost, the 
sweetness of her life here, and her belief that she was secure. 

"Secure, my ass!" she said. 

She thought of the "ironclad" contract. "It's not worth a shit!" she 
muttered. "Sure, I could screw the principal on the fifty-yard line. But not 
his baby boy! I can shove the contract right up my ass!" She was sobbing, 
thinking of the bleakness confronting her. All the rich man had to do was 
call in the District Attorney, tell him what had happened. Then where'd her 
contract be? "Contributing to the delinquency of a minor," that would look 
good in her record. No more teaching ever. 

"Peters, you're a Goddamned jerk!" she muttered. And then, knowing that she 
had never meant to harm anyone, least of all Jerry, or Lew Jonas, or his 
family, she sat on the bed, no longer strong and beautiful, but slack, 
beaten, a lost soul. 

She heard the door open softly, but didn't look up. Probably an unhappy 
fifteen-year-old boy, shocked to learn he was losing his fucking friend, 
unable to do anything about it. 

She was shocked almost into a faint when a big hand came down on her 
shoulder, and a deep voice said: "Hey, Mala! Don't cry, my dear! There's 
nothing to cry about!" 

Even when she looked up through her bitter tears and saw big, gentle Lew 
Jonas, it was hard to believe. She was naked, her cunt stopped with a wad of 
cellulose, her face wet with despairing tears, and he was smiling at her, 
taking her chin in his hand, repeating: "Don't cry! Please, Mala!" 

It was too much for her. She found her face pressed against the smooth 
flannel of his slacks, into the concave warmth of his crotch. Her arms were 
around his strong hips, her tears were gushing again, but this time they 
were tears of hope, of relief. And just this much pressure told her another 
thing-there was a very large cock hanging in those slacks. Not a hard one, 
certainly, but getting that way. 

"Oh, Lew," she sobbed, "don't play cat and mouse with me! If I have to 
leave, tell me! I know what I did was rotten, rotten, bad!" 

He tugged at her hair, forcing her to look up. His smile was gentle. "You 
don't mean that," he said. "You mustn't say it, you mustn't think it!" 

The terrible load which had been on her heart, hard and cold as ice, began 
to break up, to flood away in a warm stream. 

"If you say so, Lew," she murmured. 

He pulled her head to his crotch again, holding her face against him in a 
fatherly way. She did not feel his hidden cock throb, but she sensed that it 
had grown slightly. 

He was talking somewhere up there above her head, but she did not pay 
attention. The fact that this great and good man had, somehow, found it in 
his heart to forgive the unforgivable was making her cry. She tasted tears, 
her mouth was flooded with saliva, she was working quietly on his belt, then 
on the fastening of his slacks, then his zipper. 

"Oh, don't, Mala," he said, but he did not move her head. Instead, he was 
leaning forward, his hands on her naked shoulders, bracing himself, as she 
fumbled the big, near-hard cock out into the open, ran the soft, steamy 
foreskin back, and took the big head into her mouth. 

She sucked gently for a moment, running her tongue all around the glans, 
digging the soft tip into the two crevices alongside the cord. Above her, 
the kindly man was groaning, and his hands were gently holding her blonde 
head. 

In a rush of understanding and emotion, she let the cock slip out of her 
mouth and hugged him hard, her cheek against his cock and the sweat-dampened 
ruff of pubic hair around it. He had forgiven her, indeed, if he had not 
pushed her away. 

"You're a saint, Lew," she whispered, and he laughed just a bit chokily. 

"Not much of a saint, considering," he said. "But Martha-well," and his 
voice dropped off. "Damn it!" he cursed. "I've always despised a man who 
discussed his home sex life!" 

"But there are some things Martha draws the line at?" Mala said, her smile 
hidden from him. "Oral sex, for example?" 

"You understand, Mala, don't you, my dear?" 

"I understand that Martha doesn't dig oral sex. I don't understand why!" she 
said. "Oh, Lew, it's so delicious! It's got so much character!" She mouthed 
the big head again, and sucked it as though it were a ripe and juicy plum. 
"I don't know why any woman wouldn't love to suck this beauty!" 

He laughed, one short bark, and groaned: "Easy, Mala! I'm not used to 
anything this, uh, hot and wonderful!" 

She looked up at him, smiling, holding the big, warm organ in her hand. 
"It's not hard," she said. "And I know you're not impotent. It's, what? Not 
fear of failure. You need never fear anything with me, my dear. I owe you 
too much!" 

"Conditioning, I guess," the big man answered quietly. "It's hard to keep up 
interest by yourself." 

"Undress," she ordered gaily. "Take care of your shirt; I'll get the rest." 
Then, when he was as naked as she: "Lie down here, on your back. That's 
right. Put your feet on the floor. Oh, Lew, don't feel badly because it's 
not hard! I love it this way. Really I do!" 

She sat comfortably between his extended legs, more or less sideways to him, 
on her left hip, and held his cock gently to her lips, kissing its head, 
looking up at him as he got up on his elbows. Her pussy, hot and swollen 
where it had, during her deep dejection a few minutes earlier, been dry and 
anesthetized, throbbed softly, compressed between her thighs and buttocks. 

"I'll come pretty soon," Lew said. "Since we're not, well, doing anything 
together, will that be all right?" 

She kissed his cock all the way from head to root, taking one of his big 
balls in her mouth and rolling it in that hot, slick bath of warm saliva and 
working lips. When she removed it, she twinkled her eyes at him. "Anything 
you do is all right," she whispered. 

With his soft, warm cock so sweet and tender against her tongue, she thought 
of this wonderful person, this kindly honest, generous man who should have 
been at the height of his sexual powers, but who was doomed to a half-life 
because of a maladjustment with his wife, the woman he loved. Her tears 
began to flow, and she moved to get on her knees, pulling his legs across 
her shoulders. 

She felt his body tense, and there was just a small feel of throb in his 
big, soft peter, and then her grateful mouth was awash with his warm flow of 
jism. Not hot jets, just a rhythmic tide that gushed gently into her throat, 
over her taste buds, refilling her mouth after each swallow. He's got plenty 
in there, she thought happily. He's a lot of man In a week or two, with a 
little work and a little love, I'll have his cock as hard as a billiard cue. 

Her cunt felt hotter, itchier, fatter, as it always did during her period, 
especially on the first day, and she got up very carefully. Lew did not miss 
the significance of her movements. "You need a cum, too, don't you, my 
dear?" he asked softly. "Get up here; my penis is no good, but my tongue's 
long and hard!" and allowed himself a small laugh. 

Still careful not to let her cunt lips rub together, lest she fall into a 
fit of orgasm, Mala got to where she could kiss him. "Don't talk like that," 
she admonished him. "I'll just lean against your arm; that'll make me cum. 
Honest, Lew! Stop, Lew! I've got a tampon in it; I've just got my period!" 

He held her with fierce tenderness. "You sit right where I was, and let me 
worry about your condition," he said softly. "Get your knees up, put your 
feet on my shoulders. Ah, my dear, that's beautiful! So open, so sweet!" 

He looked up at her. "I'm so grateful to you," he whispered, tears in his 
eyes. "What you've done are doing for Jerry. It's what I hoped." He looked 
down at her opened cunt, and a bit of spittle appeared at the corners of his 
mouth. "You see," he said very low, "there was a, well, a Mala Peters in my 
life, too. When I was Jerry's age. Someone who taught me to be a man, who 
taught me what being a woman should mean to a girl! I've never forgotten." 

Relaxed and happy, Mala was warmed by the unshakable knowledge that all of 
this was not too good to be true, that it was, in fact, now better than she 
had ever dreamed. Not just all the juvenile sex she wanted, but a God-given 
chance to repay this generous soul, to recreate his manhood, to hold his 
sweet, outpouring cock in her cunt as well as in her mouth. 

In the tall mirror a few feet away, she could see the reflection of her 
pussy, and once again she knew that love she felt for this taffy-haired, 
wet-lipped possession. She could see her breasts, too, their big nipples so 
hard and dark with heat and love and excitement. Her inner lips, so swollen 
on account of her condition, were almost as dark as the nipples. 

She felt a sweet, unbelievably moving pull inside her, and saw Lew's hand in 
the mirror. "My God, Lew!" she cried, as she saw the scarlet-dripping ball 
of cotton he had dragged from her wildly throbbing vagina, "don't! Oh, 
Jesus, Lew! Oh, suck me, darling! suck me! Ooooohhh! OOoooooohhhhh God!" 

And then, as his mouth came up her flowing slit, his lips and tongue drawing 
on her bursting clitoris, she locked her strong legs around the man's dark 
head, holding his face to her cunt, letting herself cum and cum and cum, 
while tears of happiness overflowed her eyes and wave after wave of the most 
intense orgasm flooded her. She was secure. She was happy. 


THE END
