Sharon's Busy Dildo
by Angela Krust


Chapter 1 

"Fuck me! Fuck my ever-loving twat out! Fuck me so hard that it bleeds! Come 
on and fuck the shit out of it! You're not even trying! What the hell is the 
matter with you? Can't you get that God damn boner to move?!? Fuck me! Fuck 
me! Fuck me!" She could see it sliding in and out of her pussy. She could 
see the thick root, and she could see her flesh lips spread to accommodate 
such a large and thorny trunk. She reached around his buns and grabbed on. 
"Fuck me harder!" she wailed. Her ear-piercing screeches could be heard 
throughout the house, up and down the block, across the city: "FUUUCK 
MMMEEEEEE!" 

Sharon Pettibone rolled over in her sleep. What she thought was a scream was 
her own tiny voice barely audible against her pillow. The jumbo phallus 
evaporated. Her twat was empty. "Jesus," she grunted, "why the hell couldn't 
it have been real?" She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling of 
her bedroom. "Just once, Lord," she murmured, "I would like to have a real 
penis in my pussy. Just once. That's all. Nothing special. I'm not asking 
you to fix me up for life, to get me married--just a simple little fuck. 
Know what I mean? A nice piece of cock flesh inside my little lips, just so 
I'll know for sure what I'm missing." 

"Is that you, Sharon?" asked Debby, Sharon's sister. Debby was just waking 
up too. "Are you talking to yourself again?" Debby rolled onto her elbow and 
looked at Sharon. The girls looked enough alike that they were often 
mistaken one for the other, but really Debby was the older, and, naturally, 
the more experienced. "What time is it?" she moaned at Sharon. 

"I don't know and I don't care," said Sharon who pulled the sheets up tight 
around her head. She wanted to go back to sleep, back to her dream where 
there was a big man with a big boner. He was pounding her twat with a huge 
of hard-on the likes of which she knew she would probably never find in real 
life. She wanted to go back to that fantasy of love's wishes granted. She 
could see him mounting her, sliding his hands up her thighs and spreading 
her loins. She could feel his fingers rubbing her soft, comely legs apart. 
She felt her supple flesh give way to his kneading fingers, and she looked 
down between their two bodies where his cock playfully bounced alongside her 
furry mound. She lifted her legs outwards and gave him room to move in. 
"Come on," she muttered. "Come on in and screw me up good. It'll fit. Don't 
worry. I can take it. Just jam it in there and FUCK ME!" She lifted her 
knees and her smooth and tender loins opened for him. He smiled and leaned 
down into the breach. "There," he gasped, "is the kind of a twat worth 
looking at." She had pulled open the lips, spread the hairs back out of the 
way, and prepared the channel with a steady flow of ooze. Everything was 
oily. He dipped on finger in, just to be sure, and down it went. There was 
no friction-everything was smooth and slippery. He teased her clit and 
pulled his finger out: "You're soft, baby, and I'm gonna love fucking you 
with my big hard prick muscle. You know what I mean? I'm gonna love shoving 
my prick down that alley!" 

"Sharon? Sharon? Are you awake?" It was Debby again. Sharon opened her eyes, 
gave up the fantasy of the big man with the big ideas. "What is it?" she 
asked, coming reluctantly back to reality. "I was having a little dream and 
every time you wake me up." 

"I'm sorry," said Debby, "but it's time to go to school." Debby climbed up 
out of her bed. She was nude and Sharon watched her sister prepare for 
school. Unlike herself, Debby had little titties with pert nipples. But 
Sharon couldn't figure it out. No matter how much bigger her own breasts 
were, the guys still went out with Debby. They still asked Debby to go out 
before her. She watched Debby as the older girl stood in front of the 
mirror. Debby's hips were a little wider than Sharon's and the hair around 
Debby's cunt was a little darker blonde than Sharon's bush, but other than 
that, the girls looked pretty much alike. "Shit," grumbled Sharon, "I sure 
do wish that I was the one who was popular." 

"Some day soon," said Debby. "Don't you worry. They'll be pawing you like 
bears paw honey. Don't you worry." Debby pulled her two titties into place 
in her bra. She slipped gracefully into panties. Sharon wondered why her 
sister bothered with that stuff. It was common knowledge that at least once 
a day she fucked her boyfriend. Why bother with getting dressed in all that 
stupid clothing if you were just going to have to take it all off during 
lunch? Sharon knew for a fact that when the time came she herself would wear 
no underwear, no bra, and the loosest skirt possible. A quick fuck would be 
the best possible thing that could happen to her, and there would be no 
sense in cluttering it up with a lot of useless old fashion equipment. She 
smiled as her sister turned to her and said: "Don't you think you ought to 
get up, too? We had to be at school in a few minutes." 

"Later for that," said Sharon. "I don't want to do anything right now except 
lay here in bed." She reached down between her legs to scratch an itch on 
her thigh. 

"Oh, I see," said Debby. "You have something down there you have to look 
into? Is that it?" 

"That's nasty," said Sharon. "You mind your own business!" She picked up a 
pillow and threw it across the room at Debby who was easily out the door and 
away before the pillow hit anywhere near her. 

But that was all fine with Sharon. For the younger Pettibone girl wanted 
only to be alone. She wanted to have just this opportunity to get to her 
mound. She slipped her two hands down between her legs and spread the 
perfect little twat lips there. It only took her a moment more to get a 
finger up against her clitoris, which, incidentally, was quite hard. She 
pulled and pushed on the rubbery little clit button, and then she took to 
pinching it off in a steady rhythm. "Mmmmm," she hummed to herself, "this is 
the way to wake up in the morning." 

She'd have gotten herself good and greasy, but just then the door to her 
room swung open. "Darling," said Mrs. Pettibone, a rather attractive woman 
in her own right, "it's time to be getting ready for school." She was all 
smiles and good graces when it came to talking with her daughters. "You 
don't want to be late now, darling, do you?" Mrs. Pettibone didn't notice 
that her lovely daughter Sharon was busily rearranging the sheets so that 
she wouldn't be discovered masturbating herself as she was. "No, Mom," she 
said, "I don't want to be late, but I don't want to infect all those kids at 
school with SWINE FLU, either." 

"What?!" screamed Mrs. Pettibone. "Are you ill, darling?" The teenager's 
mother started to race toward the bed. But Sharon lifted a cautious open 
palm. "Stay over there, Mom. I don't want to be responsible for killing my 
mother. Just let me sweat it out!" Mrs. Pettibone stopped dead in her 
tracks. "Is it that contagious?" she asked, backing off just a little. 

"I don't know," said Sharon, reaching a hand secretly under the sheets and 
back down to her wet twat, "but I don't want to take any chances." She found 
her clitoris upright and ready for a quick little massage. Now if only her 
mother would leave h alone. 

"Well, darling," said Mrs. Pettibone, "I'd better call the Doctor and--" 

"NO DOCTORS!" hollered Sharon, taking her hand out of her pie. She couldn't 
believe that her mother wouldn't leave her be just for a while. "Please, 
Mom," she said, "I think this thing will take it's normal intercourse, I 
mean its normal course if we just let it be." Mrs. Pettibone, confused and 
dumbfounded, nodded and then shook her head as she backed out of her fifteen 
year old daughter's bedroom. She shut the door behind her. 

"At last," sighed Sharon, "I can get my fingers down to the place where they 
can do the most good." And with that she reached both hands down between her 
spread loins and she lifted her thighs and knees. "Ahhh, yes," she breathed 
a sigh of relief, "now where was I ... oh, yes, he was just about to enter 
me." 

She pictured a big strong fellow with a tight erection. He was leaning into 
her pie, pressing the head of his meat up between her twat lips. He had a 
hard-on the size and thickness of the Eiffel Tower. He wasn't the kind of a 
man who would take no for an answer, and in this fantasy, Sharon Pettibone 
wasn't the kind of a teenager who would even think of shaking her head. She 
gave him free reign, and she even opened up those tender dark lips of her 
pussy and said: "Come on in, mother fucker, and stick me hard. Give me that 
big hot muscle of yours; or are you afraid?" 

"Afraid of a douche bag twat hole like you, honey?" answered the fantasy man 
with the big flesh projectile. "I got a cannon that blows away little girls 
just from the noise it makes. So you get that pussy pie of yours ready, 
babydoll. I'm gonna fuck you black and blue." 

"Promises, promises, promises," moaned Sharon. Then she reached down and 
took hold of the monster man's phallus head. She took the mushroom head and 
pressed it up against her clitoris. She switched her hips back and forth so 
that the man's meaty stick would go sliding against her pussy button, 
rubbing against her twat lips, making her hole as hefty and juicy as 
possible. It was nice for her to feel so much sexual stimulation in one 
place at one time. 

"Aren't you going to lick my titties, too, Mr. Monster Man?" 

He smiled back at her. "Gimme those things," he said. He leaned over her 
tits and started gobbling. He worked those two hefty mammaries up and down 
with just his tongue. The giant from Jack And The Beanstalk couldn't have 
given her a better tonguing. The Monster Man's tongue was everywhere, 
licking and sucking, making it with her nipples and giving her the kind of 
chest thrill that she was looking for. It was oral delight for the two of 
them. 

But just when things were getting good and hot, just when Sharon Pettibone's 
pussy was starting to leak at full strength, and just when the room was 
beginning to take on that musty scent of clit juice and ooze, the telephone 
started ringing. "Jesus fucking God," cried Sharon, "can't a girl get a 
little peace and quiet around here!" She reached out from between her legs 
and answered the phone. It was her father. "I forgot my briefcase, Sharon, 
darling, and if I don't get it right away, I won't be able to sign a very 
important deal. Would you mind bringing it into the office?" 

"Daddy," pleaded Sharon, "didn't mother tell you I was in bed with SWINE 
FLU?" 

"Sharon, little darling, your Daddy's been around a lot longer than that. 
Now get out of bed and get into a cab and bring me my brief case." The line 
went dead. Sharon slammed the receiver with the hook. "Jesus fucking 
Christ," she moaned, "if I had plague he'd make me come in there." She 
climbed out of bed and dressed herself in pajamas and a robe. She didn't 
bother locking up the house. She took the brief case, tied her robe shut, 
and strutted down to the corner, a fairly major boulevard where, in bathrobe 
and pajamas she hailed a cab. 

In the back of the cab, having given the cabbie directions to her father's 
office, Sharon spread her legs out. She reached down between her loins and 
hoped the cabbie couldn't see what she was doing. "Fuck," she murmured to 
herself as she discovered her still erect clitoris. "This is going to be 
alright after all." With her free hand she lifted her father's attache case 
over her lap and used it for camouflage. She rubbed her cunt with the 
satchel sitting on her knees. "Mmmmm," she hummed softly, and soon the happy 
image of the Monster Man and his magic flesh wand came back to mind. She saw 
him sharpening the tip of his flesh sword, honing it into a fine ready blade 
with which he was going to puncture her virgin ribbon. She spread her legs 
and yelled at him: "Come on you mother fucker and stuff me up good! Give it 
to me hard so I can have me some memories to tell the Grand kids, eh? Ha, 
ha, ha. Come on and fuck me, Monster Man. Or is that meat of yours better 
called Monster Midget Meat? Ho, ho, ho ..." He came at her with his flesh 
cock ready to cut her up good. He stuffed her with it by spreading her legs 
with his hands and entering her in one long stroke. He jammed down deep and 
filled her to the gills. She rolled and rocked and twisted around on the 
impaling giant's sword. She was pinned down like a cute little earthworm 
with nowhere to go. From now on she would be nothing but bait ... 

The cab pulled to a stop in front of the Handprick Building where Mr. 
Pettibone worked. Sharon, coming to from her backseat bliss, handed the 
cabbie a fiver and told him to sit tight. The cabbie, no dummy, smiled, 
winked, and waited. Sharon took the elevator upstairs. 

On the fiftieth floor a guard asked Sharon "What the hell are you doing 
going around in a bathrobe, young lady?" She smiled, turned her back on him, 
and pulled up the back of her robe, and let down her pajama bottoms in order 
to give the aged guard a look-see at her rear hole. "I'm going for a 
stroll," she shouted at him looking upside down from between her legs. The 
guard grabbed his chest, heaved backwards as though he'd been shot at close 
range and fell over. Sharon stood up and continued on her way to her 
father's office. 

"Mmm," she said, entering the door marked PETTIBONE, "something smells good 
in here ..." The secretary and a delivery boy disengaged. They had been 
French kissing over the secretary's typewriter when Sharon entered. "Ahem, 
yes, ahem," coughed the secretary, "Miss Pettibone, may I help you?" The 
messenger took a seat off to the side. Sharon couldn't help but eyeball the 
young man's tumescent crotch. "Well, yes," she said, sitting down next to 
the messenger and putting the attache case on her lap, "I have a parcel for 
my Daddy." She smiled demurely and when the secretary looked the other way 
she reached over into the messenger's groin. "Just testing," she said. "Mmm, 
nice and firm. See ya," and with that she stood up and smiled, having teased 
the man nicely, ready now to move on with the day's business. She turned 
back to the startled and frustrated youth and said: "I'd go all the way but 
I got SWINE FLU!" The boy backed into a corner and covered his mouth: "Get 
away!" he shrieked. "Get away you wench! Are you trying to kill me? Get 
away!" Sharon coughed and the lad nearly struck her down. He would have, 
too, were it not for the fact that just then Mr. Pettibone came from his 
office and strutted out with a bright cherry smile and said: "Where's the 
case, Sharon?" Sharon lifted the case, and, without saying even one single 
word to her father (He had, after all, ruined her masturbatory day.) she 
turned and marched, still in her bathrobe and pajamas, out of the office. 
"Feel better, darling," shouted her father after her, but the office door 
was already swinging shut. 

In the hallway, a great many people were gathered around the guard who had 
fallen to the floor. Now he was just coming to when Sharon happened by on 
her way out of the building. "How are you feeling?" she asked as she walked 
by, and the guard nodded and then started to say, "That's her!" But before 
he could finish his sentence, Sharon had pulled open her robe and spread her 
jamies so that her big left tit blazed in a flash of creamy flesh which 
caused the guard to pass out again. He grabbed his chest and flopped down, 
this time dead. 

On the elevator, pressed to the back by a crowd of no less than fifteen, and 
under the camouflage of her robe, Sharon reached into her pajamas and 
started to play with herself again. She wanted to be good and hot by the 
time she got back into the cab and was on her way home. She flicked her 
clit, without anyone seeing her, several times in a row. She even moaned 
softly from time to time, but she tried to time these passionate outbursts 
with the stopping and starting of the elevator, that way not bringing 
herself to the attention of the various passengers. On her way out of the 
elevator she couldn't resist reaching out and grabbing a quick little pinch 
of the elevator attendant's butt. She was surprised when the attendant 
squeaked at her: "That's enough of that, all day long the same thing." He 
was a woman. 

The cabbie had waited as planned. He honked from across the street when 
Sharon appeared out of the swinging glass doors of the Handprick Building. 
She ran through traffic, amidst screeching breaks and stalling suddenly 
stopped cars, and made her way into the back seat of the cab. "Jesus," she 
moaned "I don't understand why people go to work like this. It doesn't look 
like a whole hell of a lot of fun." The cabbie pulled out into the late 
morning traffic. 

On the way back home Sharon began to think about what it would be like to 
really make love with the messenger she had met upstairs in her father's 
building. She had never been so brazen as that before, and the feet of the 
messenger's cock in her fingers certainly did give her little heart a good 
start. She was properly primed, she decided, for more of the same. "Jesus," 
she moaned to herself, and she slipped her two hands under her robe a down 
between her legs where she could feel and p with herself as she saw fit. 

She imagined a couple of guys and a couple of girls, one of which was 
herself, out on the beach screwing their brains out. Only this time the boy 
she was with was not the Monster Man. He was a young volley ball player 
named Rick Ostoyja who had countless times told her how much he loved her in 
school. Only Rick wasn't the most attractive guy around, and Sharon couldn't 
figure out why she'd thought about screwing with him. After all, in her head 
she had the choice of any man with any meat. Why not chose some handsome 
actor type or something? But she went with Rick in the fantasy, and she 
enjoyed the thrill of getting his hot hog into A-1 shape. She rolled it 
between her two palms, treated it like a tortilla, and before long she had 
turned the fantasy worm into a huge, fleshy snake-one that she was sure 
would be happy to coil up inside her tube. She spread her legs wider and 
continued with her masturbatory enjoyment. "Mmmmm," she hummed to herself, 
"I sure do wish I could get the real thing." She didn't know it, but the 
cabbie had overheard her. 

When they finally pulled over in front of their parents' house in the 
suburbs, she started to get out of the car from the right side. But the 
cabbie came around and told her that he wanted to help her out. She didn't 
mind that, but she didn't like the tone of his voice. She lifted one leg and 
her pajamas and robe spread out. The pajamas were cut at the thighs, and 
Sharon's legs were in perfect sight for about five seconds. The cabbie 
leaned down and took a sassy stroke at that fresh warm flesh. The teenager 
slapped him across the face and yelled: "It's for your own good!" She 
scrambled out of the car, passed the stunned driver. "But I thought you were 
looking for the real thing," he protested holding his cheek. "Fool," she 
retorted, "I'm looking for the real thing, but I've got SWINE FLU, and 
that's why I can't do it with anyone this week. See?" She scurried off into 
the house and wondered if she'd made a mistake in passing up the advances of 
the cabbie. 

That afternoon, finally, after all that running around, she located herself 
in her bedroom with the door shut. She'd showered, she'd taken the phone off 
the hook-there was no way in the world, she'd calculated, that she could 
possibly be interrupted. And with that thought in mind, she slipped a 
diligent digit into her pie. "Ahhhh, yes," she moaned, feeling the chills 
spread up and down her thighs. "Oooooh, nooooo!" She was so happy to be 
fucking herself with her fingers that she couldn't believe how lucky she 
was. "At last," she said with her eyes closed, "I'm going to be able to give 
myself the good little poking that I deserve." And off she went, into 
fantasy land, rubbing her twat hole as hard as she could while her mind 
helped to conjure up images that would give her even more sexual 
stimulation. 

First she flagged down the image of a big black stud. He had a pole on him 
big enough to go fishing with. And as for his natural strength, he could 
have been a road runner or a pole vaulter. He was easily the strongest man 
she'd ever fantasized fucking--that day, any how. His meat was big, and she 
climbed up onto his mid-section, spread her legs and squatted. She took the 
entire head of his big thick joint into her sweetly spread twat lips. 
"Nooooww," she moaned like a big cow, "that's nize! Really nize!" She rolled 
her hips on the black man's meaty joint, and she enjoyed the thrill of a 
poker puncturing her tube with lusty zestful strokes. "Mmmm," she hummed at 
him, hanging her titties over his sweaty black face, "give me more, honey. 
Give me more of that black fuck rod!" 

A moment later the juices in her pussy were so full and so hot that she 
thought she was boiling over. The insides of her cunt started belching out 
ecstatic cries for more meat. She thought she heard her twat slopping at the 
empty afternoon air: "Fuck! Fuuuuuckk! FUUUUUCCCKKKKK!" She rolled up and 
down with her fingers. Her clit was stiff, her lips tight, her insides 
mellow with hot ooze. "Jesus fucking Christ on a fucking damn bicycle!" she 
hollered. "FUUUUUCCCCKKKK!" 

She reached under her buns and stuffed a good hot finger into her anus. She 
located the tip of the digit in her bowels. She spread her anus open, pulled 
her cheeks wide, buried her finger in her soft rump flesh. "I love it," she 
moaned softly. "I really do fucking love it." She discovered that if she 
turned her body sideways and showed herself to the mirror, she could watch 
her finger go sliding in her anus. She did that, and then she applied a 
second finger to her pussy, filled her delicious little cave with her finger 
while she pumped her bunghole at the same time. She had a finger in either 
pelvic hole, and there was to be no stopping her. "Mmm," she juiced and 
hummed at the same time, "I love a little twat work out." 

She popped her two fingers out of her belly holes. She stood up and looked 
at her bedraggled figure in the mirror. "I like me a lot," she said. She 
leaned forward and pressed her lips against the image of her lips in the 
mirror. She went sliding her body up and down against the cold glass. It 
didn't bother her that the glass was cold. It was her body she was 
interested in, and so, while she pumped her titties up and down against the 
mirror she also used her finger from the other side of her body, to enter 
her ass hole and to sexually stimulate her there. She rubbed and tugged on 
her sphincter until more and more of her body was hot and juicy and ready 
for the actual orgasm she had been looking for. "Mmmm," she hummed, pulling 
away from the mirror, "this is good for a little while, but now I need 
something in the front hole, something to finish me off ..." 

Sharon Pettibone went off to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator while 
she kept a finger up her pussy. She didn't want to cool off. She kept 
stroking her clit while she inspected the contents of the frig. She wanted 
to be sure that that clit meat of hers stayed hard. She looked in particular 
at the vegetable tray. She located a big carrot, the kind of monster 
vegetable that she figured would give her the real-life feel of a cock 
muscle. She stroked it and then removed it from the bin. She shut the 
refrigerator door and panted for a moment while she stood, legs spread, feet 
planted, in front of the closed appliance. "Jesus fucking God Almighty," 
Sharon cried, "I don't know fucking what to do! Jesus fucking Christ!" 

She stood there in front of the white fridge with her finger pushed up her 
twat. Juice leaked down the inside of one leg. She attacked herself from the 
rear with the carrot. She had intended to clean it, but she was now so 
carried away with her emotions that the only thing she could think about 
doing was shoving it. She pushed. She jammed it in. She crammed as much of 
that carrot up her tight little sphincter tube as she possibly could. She 
worked it up and down, in and out, and she gave herself a better cleaning 
than roto rooter could ever think about. She tugged on her sphincter with 
the point of the carrot and prayed to God that someday she would have a real 
man with a big cock who would shove it up her ass-hole and into her twat and 
even into her ear if he wanted. She wanted to get laid with a real penis, 
with something that would make her feel good, with something that would give 
her the orgasm that her teenage flesh craved for. She wanted it bad. 

"Jesus fucking Christ," she moaned, falling to the floor in a heap. She 
curled up in a fetal ball. She pulled her legs up close to her chest and 
slapped her thigh with one hand. "Cum on," she grunted, "cum on, cum on, cum 
on ..." She moaned and groaned while she groveled there on the linoleum. She 
could smell the fresh wax that her mother, Mrs. Pettibone, had applied the 
other day. It was an erotic, fresh smell, like deodorant and sweet. Suddenly 
desperate, Sharon went along the floor, on her hands and knees, licking the 
shiny surface of the kitchen linoleum. She had the carrot shoved up her 
asshole and her tongue spread out in front of her. She looked like a big 
ant-eater, only her long silky blonde hair and her sweet hanging boobs, 
these things gave away the fact that she was merely a depraved human 
teenager. She rubbed her face against the floor while the carrot bounced up 
and down in her rear, a vegetative tail. "Mmmm," she hummed having licked 
her fill, "I sure do wish that Daddy were home to give me some advice on 
this. I wonder if I'm sick to get off this way." But she loved the taste of 
the fresh floor wax, the feel of the smooth surface of it against her lips. 
She went sprawling out on the floor, rubbing her titties against it, sliding 
her feet apart and her loins wide and she reached back and started poking in 
and out of her butt with the carrot. "Oh, Jesus, fuck, shit, piss, cunt, 
ass, Christ, oh, fuck, shit, oh ..." and she moaned on and on as she swam 
around on the slick floor of her mother's kitchen like a child who hasn't 
yet been taught to walk. 

A few minutes later, still not satisfied, Sharon Pettibone climbed into the 
shower. She turned the steam on full and enjoyed a good hot rain on her 
body. She scrubbed at the scuff marks on her belly, places where dirt from 
the floor had pressed up against her chest and stomach and legs. She used a 
big thick bar of soap to go scrubbing between her thighs. She soaped herself 
until her entire skin was smooth and slippery, oily with the sudsy stuff. 
Then she slipped a finger into her pussy and another into her asshole and 
she gyrated. She rolled her hips up and down, she pushed her mound around in 
a steady circle motion, and finally she began to scream and cry out so loud 
that neighboring housewives could hear the precious moans of the child 
lover, and they wondered to themselves if the young girl was being attacked 
or something. They didn't know what to do. 

But Sharon just continued rolling around on her two fingers, pressing her 
clitoris and wondering when the final cuming would be. She wondered when she 
would become orgasmic and when she could stop fingering herself. She ended 
up sitting down in the tub with her two long legs spread and raised so that 
her heels were up on the sides of the tub. She had her loins open, her 
clitoris throbbing, her pussy leaking and ready for action. She had her 
titties erect and ready for all sorts of fantasies. She had her twat so wide 
open that an elephant trunk could have gone snorting up her snatch without 
even knowing it. She let her eyes open wide and she jammed a hot finger all 
the way into the back of her beaver cave. She filled her body with digit and 
rubbed herself harder and harder. "Ooooh, fuck," she grunted. "Oh, Jesus, 
fuck, shit ... piss, cunt, ass-hole ..." She was on her way to ecstasy. She 
knew that orgasm was only a stroke or two away, that a stab or two more 
would put her pussy up into the land of bliss and heaven, that her sexual 
fantasy of total oneness with the sensual world would be finally fulfilled. 

"Ahhh, fuck, yes," she moaned, sliding down flat in the shower-tub. The 
water continued to rain on her as she finished fingering her clit into 
erection. She pulled her hand out and took some shampoo from a tube. It was 
green ooze which she applied to her belly and spread around. She made 
herself as slippery as possible with that stuff, and then she applied some 
more of it to her asshole. She used one finger in her anus and the other in 
her twat. She poked both holes simultaneously. She pretended two big hot 
cock meats were sliding against her body, one from the front, the other from 
the back. Then, boom! It hit her. She was on her way. She was going to cum. 
She was getting so hot that she couldn't stand it any more. She could feel 
the big hot and cold chills starting up inside her body, getting ready to 
take her away on a magic carpet ride taking her up to the land of Godly 
ecstasy. She was going to float with it, going to enjoy her slick flesh 
covered with goose bumps. She was going to cum and cum. AND CUM! 

The next thing Sharon Pettibone knew she was recovering. She didn't know 
exactly what she was recovering from, but she had a carrot in her hand and 
she was turning off the shower nozzles. She tossed the orange vegetable into 
the trash can under the bathroom sink and grabbed a towel. She was only 
halfway dried when she heard the front door to the house open up. She rushed 
to the bedroom. Her sister came in and found her sitting in bed. Sharon 
looked up from her pillow and said: "How was school today, Debby?" 

"Oh, just fine," said Debby, taking off her blouse and sitting down. "It 
sure was hot." 

Sharon sneezed. 

"God bless you, darling," said Debby. "Are you sick?" 

"God bliss me," murmured Sharon. "And He did, too." 

"What's that?" asked Debby. 

"Oh, nothing," said Sharon. "I just have a touch of the SWINE FLU. How was 
school?" 

"Never mind," said Debby, disturbed for some reason. "I'm sure it wouldn't 
really interest you." 

"Well," said Sharon Pettibone, "for once in your life you're right about 
something, Debby. Ha, ha, ha!" 

Chapter 2 Home Sweet Home 

"Shit me around," moaned Sharon. "I ain't going no place until I get my twat 
good and hot, massaged the way it's supposed to be." She was preparing 
herself for the battle with her mother. Mrs. Pettibone, as if right on cue, 
pushed open the bedroom door. "Now, now, young lady," she scolded Sharon, 
"you get yer ass up and out of bed. No more of this SWINE FLU bullshit. I'm 
not going to listen to that kind of nonsense." Mrs. Pettibone was wearing a 
lace robe which showed off her big nipples. It was cut short so that her 
smooth ample thighs were clearly visible. 

"You know, Mom," said Sharon, "if it weren't three days before Mother's Day 
I'd tell you to go to hell. And you know something else? I think we look 
alike." Sharon climbed out of bed and took a position--she in the raw naked 
nude--next to her mother. "Look," she continued, "my legs are full and 
shapely like yours, and I have big nipples like you, and my chest sticks out 
the same way. I think we could be twins." 

"Yes, darling," said Mrs. Pettibone, "now just get that pretty little ass 
and those matronly legs and those pert nipples that are just like mine--get 
all of that adolescent flesh into a pair of panties, a bra and some other 
clothes so that you can go to school like a good little girl!" With that 
Mrs. Pettibone disappeared out of Sharon's bedroom. 

"Shit," moaned the teenager, "and all I wanted to do was sit around fiddle 
with my clit a bit." She sat down quickly on the edge of the bed, spread her 
legs and reached into her honey pot. 

"Maybe if I'm quick ..." she murmured, and with that she was into fondling 
her clitoris into a good little stiffness. "Mmmm," she hummed a moment 
later, her titties standing up with chills, the nipples going red and hard. 
"This could be it?" She flicked her clit harder and faster. She rolled her 
fingers across the tip of the little flesh button. It wasn't going to take 
her long to get hot and lusty. She knew it would only be a minute before she 
spit off from reality and entered the dream land of ecstasy and fantasy. She 
lay back with her feet dangling over the edge of the bed, with her fingers 
splashing in her honey pot. "Mmmm," she hummed, "this is going to be very 
nice." 

She found herself conjuring up the image of a man not unlike her father. He 
had her father's voice, his countenance, his way of walking and talking. She 
smiled at him and took off her panties. 

"Come on, Daddy," she said, "it's time for you to screw your little 
daughter." She smiled at him and gave him a good look at the insides of her 
beaver. She reached down between her smooth and tender loins and spread her 
lips out. She showed him what hot moist flesh lay behind that curly bush of 
hers. "There," she said to her fantasy father, "Don't you just want to curl 
your tongue around that little clit button of mine and send me off to 
nowhere sex land? Eh, Daddy? Please?" 

The fantasy man grumbled. "Get down on your back, kid, and I'll eat you till 
you turn red as a beet." She lay down and spread her loins. He felt her up, 
first with his hands, then with his tongue. He worked his mouth lips up 
close to her twat lips. He rolled his tongue out of his mouth chamber and 
filled her long narrow fleshy hangar with his hot wet mouth muscle. He gave 
that little clitoris of hers a scrubbing and a swabbing that she would never 
forget. Then he had her turn over. He ate out her asshole, licked the canal 
and rubbed up and down between the two soft globular buttock cheeks. "Mmmm," 
he hummed at her, "you got a nice anus, honey. Fun to lick, fun to suck, fun 
to think that it's you I'll fuck ..." And off he went, kissing the sides of 
her torso, pulling her down under him so he could successfully climb onto 
her face. "Spread those fleshy mouth lips of yours," he commanded her, "we 
hain't got all day ..." And with that he filled her face with cock meat. He 
went sliding and pounding his joint, grinding his long thick muscle in and 
out of his daughter's face. She loved the feel of his thick rod working away 
next to her tongue. 

The bedroom door swung open. "Sharon!" cried her mother. "What the hell?" 
and then Mrs. Pettibone, who was now partially dressed in a skirt and a bra 
and heels, looked behind herself and then shut the bedroom door. "My, my, 
darling, what on earth are you doing?" It was plain to Mrs. Pettibone, 
really, as it would have been to any fool, that her daughter was spread out 
with her eyes closed and with her hands in her pussy that way because she 
was masturbating. So the question was more of a lead-in than anything else. 
"You shouldn't have to be masturbating, darling," said Mrs. Pettibone. She 
took a seat alongside her lovely daughter Sharon. 

The teenager sat up. "I know, Mom, but I'm just afraid to go out and find a 
boy. I'm afraid they'll hurt me or something. I don't want to take any 
chances." She sat on the side of her bed with her sweet tanned loins spread, 
with her head bowed so that her chin nearly touched her chest. She could see 
only the tops of her own thighs. Suddenly, she saw and felt her mother's 
hand slide across her leg. 

"Now, now," said Mrs. Pettibone, "there's more than one way to skin a pussy, 
if you know what I mean." Mrs. Pettibone's fingers crawled down into the 
adolescent's vacated bush. "I just want you to know that me and your father 
give a lot of thought to what you should be going and how we've brought you 
up and ..." Mrs. Pettibone had located Sharon's clitoris. She had the thing 
between her two fingers. She squeezed the thing a couple of times, slipped 
her free hand under the girl's rear end and attacked from both sides. She 
had one long finger scraping in and out of the youngster's pussy slit, and 
she had one other long finger rubbing in and out of the girl's asshole. 
"Isn't that better," she asked, "than masturbating that way?" 

"Oh, God yes, Mom," said Sharon. "I mean it's super terrific to have you 
fucking me with your fingers like that but what if Dad ..." 

"Don't you worry about your father," said Mrs. Pettibone. "Let Mommy take 
care of everything." Mrs. Pettibone gave Sharon's tender little holes 
another little punch of two, and then she said that she had to go to work, 
but that night things would be alright between them. Sharon smiled and 
watched her contented mother leave the room. 

"Jesus,," she said to herself, "What will Mom think of next." Sharon spread 
herself out on her bed and landed a finger back inside her pussy. "Let's 
see," she muttered, "I was just beginning to get off ..." 

She started thinking about what it would be like to fuck her old Junior High 
boyfriend, Rick Walden. She rubbed her pussy lips up and down and felt up 
her clitoris with this young man in mind. She rubbed and scrubbed and before 
long she had that thing upright and ready for more action. She pictured 
Richard coming at her with his big thick member out and waving. It was 
bounding up and down and making headway at drilling her pie. "Come on, 
Richard," she moaned at him, "come and fuck me hard honey." She saw him 
entering her pie. She saw his thick sword cutting down between her two sweet 
pussy lips, filling her pie with cock flesh, making her heated interior cave 
begin to juice and flood. "I love it," she moaned at her fantasy fucker. "I 
love to screw with you ..." 

A moment later she had switched images. She was on top of the hill 
overlooking the high school. She was in the back seat of Danny's car. He had 
her in his arms. He had one hand on her chest and he had her nipple in his 
mouth. He was tonguing her, licking her booby, making her hotter yet. She 
kept his face down between her big breasts while Danny reaching into Danny's 
pants and coming up with his member. She stroked at his hog, pulled on it, 
and rubbed the tip with her palm. She made sure that the sides of the shaft 
were good and hot by rubbing them between her two hands. She baked herself a 
cake of hot cock meat. 

"Mmmm," she hummed at him, and she opened her mouth and offered Danny a 
taste of her willing face, "Come on," she moaned to him, "and kiss me French 
style, baby. Fill me up with that tongue meat of yours." She held onto his 
cock muscle and begged him to put his tongue into her face. "Come on," she 
said, "you can fuck my face good with that tongue of yours." She wanted it 
Frenching her face. She pulled him up close to her by letting loose of his 
penis and reaching around his neck. She pulled his face down close to her 
own. She kissed him hard. She gave him a long taste of her tongue. He gave 
her back his own. She loved the feel of his mouth muscle gliding in and out 
of her face. Because it was a prelude to the fuck itself, a glimpse of what 
it would be like to have Danny's hot muscle going into her body, in her 
pussy. That was where she wanted it next. In her hot oily twat space. 

She spread her legs and pushed his face down along her torso. She didn't 
know how, but somehow they had managed to take off each other's clothes in 
the back of the car. It was easy, actually, and now that she was nude, now 
that her legs were spread and her loins were open, she wanted his big thick 
joint to go rolling down inside her like a thick log. She wanted to feel 
that big mushroom head of his rubbing and scraping against her clitoris, 
making her hotter and lustier than ever before. She wanted to have his 
asscheeks in her hands, and she wanted to go sliding a finger up and down 
between his buttocks, just for fun. She wanted to lick out his asshole, too, 
if he would let her. She might have been fifteen, and she might have been 
just fantasizing, but she knew what she wanted. 

She reached down between her own legs and pulled her beaver lips open. 
"There it is, Danny," she said, "my open pie. Won't you fuck it with that 
big cock muscle of yours? Won't you put that hot hard wedge of penis flesh 
into my slot and make me cum? Won't you please?" She smiled and let loose of 
her dark wet labia lips. She let her pussy go closed so that she could pay 
attention to his meaty bone-on. "I suppose you want me to play some more 
with that prick of yours. Well, why didn't you say so? I'd be happy to." 

She leaned down close to his joint. She took it in both hands and rolled it 
back and forth. She rubbed it sideways and up and down. She treated it 
gently but like a gear shift. She rolled her fingers across the base, at the 
root. She stroked up along the top-side and arrived at the tip. Then she 
went down the other side and played softly with the part that looked most 
like a bone. She rubbed his balls, too, played with them for a little while 
with her tantalizing fingers. She worked one hand up and under his crotch, a 
finger of which went sliding up into his anus where she began to tickle him. 
The other hand remained behind to work out on his hot dog tip and on the 
thick shaft of his big flesh arrow. 

"Oh, Jesus, honey," he moaned at her, "you really know how to get my cock 
muscle stiff and hot, don't you?" He smiled and kissed her on the lips. He 
gave her his tongue. He rubbed his lips against her lips. He pushed his 
mouth down hard, grinding his face into hers. He took his hands and applied 
both palms to her two big titties. He rubbed her chest with his ten fingers. 
He made sure that that creamy breast flesh of hers was properly sexually 
stimulated. "Mmmm," he hummed, leaning close and gathering up one titty for 
a proper sucking, "I just want to make sure that you get the most out of 
this." And with that he took to mouthing her breast like it was bread and 
butter. He licked up and down and ate her all up, gobbled down her titty 
flesh like there was no tomorrow. 

Sharon Pettibone, in the meanwhile, worked out on Danny's boner. She had the 
thing between her two hands. She was rolling it back and forth. She'd cupped 
the two big hairy balls in her fingers and she was sliding her other fingers 
up and down alongside the shaft of the boner. She was sliding up and down 
and squeezing, too. She could tug, when she wanted to, on the rim of the 
head, and that was a special thrill. It made her hot to get a good hold on 
that lip of mushroom head, and when she felt how spongy and hot it was she 
decided to go down on it. 

"Oh, yeah, good baby," said Danny. "Go to town on it." 

He held her face in his two hands. Her lips spread to accommodate the 
massive thickness of the meat. He pushed on the back of her neck, and down 
her mouth went, around and around the hairy hard-on. She took all of it into 
her face. She sucked tight on it, a good seal, and soon she had the thing 
properly and wetted for action. She began sliding back and forth, up and 
down, slurping up the meat as though it were some specially flavored flesh 
pole. "Mmm," she would hum. "I love it," she would moan between strokes. 
"What an extraordinary muscle you have," she would say in order to keep him 
hot while working out on the tip. She would splay her tongue at it, stick 
out that big mouth muscle and wipe it across the top of the heady boner tip. 
She would work at getting the thick skinned rim and the sensitized flesh of 
the shaft and the boner root part of the base-she would work at getting it 
all hot and stimulated and ready for cuming. 

Soon Danny got that muscle of his so far into Sharon Pettibone's face that 
she thought she was going to choke. She didn't know that her throat could 
swallow so long a meat, so big a suckable boner. She loved it though, loved 
the feel of that big mushroom head tickling the back of her mouth. She 
wanted more of it, and she went down even harder. 

Just to make sure that everything was nice and easy for Danny, she wrapped 
her hands around his buns and pulled on his two cheeks. She worked her 
fingers up and down his asshole crack. She stuffed a big long digit into his 
anus, even, and she wormed it around, up and down and from side to side 
while sucking on the knobby piece of flesh at the front side. It didn't take 
her long at all to have that meaty thing of his ready for fucking. 

But Danny himself wasn't ready for fucking. He wanted to do some eating. He 
pushed Sharon Pettibone down on the back seat of the fantasy car and stroked 
her twat lips open and ready for a bit of the gobbling action. He used his 
tongue to get to her clitoris. He got the thing between his lips and pulled 
on it. He tugged and sucked at the same time. It didn't take long at all for 
him to get that erection of hers up to full strength. When he had the thing 
hard and slippery, he took to waving his tongue back and forth at it. He ate 
her little clit button like there was no tomorrow. Back and forth, up and 
down, in and out, he moved his tongue in every conceivable direction. And 
then he climbed up higher on her nice smooth body. 

Her titties were inflamed. Her nipples were cherry red and hot. Her mouth 
was wide open and gasping. Her thick lips were moist, her tongue was ready, 
her cunt was spread apart and open. Her legs were bent at the knees. Danny 
went sliding his boner up and down on her smooth ample thighs. He thought 
for sure he could feel the way her tanned body was warm to the touch, the 
way it gave off heat and glowed. He liked the feel of that hot skin 
brushing, against his boner. Then he entered her. 

"Mmm, good," she moaned at him. "Give me all of that thing, Danny. Give it 
to me hard." She swiveled her hips from side to side and showed him a good 
time. She used her hips to make sure that his penis got a good rubbing 
between her twat lips. Those inner labia were stroking up and down on the 
sides of his joint. His pecker was fully erect, ready to roll for a lot of 
hot fucking. He jammed it all the way down inside her cave. He gave her 
everything, and she reached around his waist and held on tight so that she 
would be ready for the incredible ride that went with it all. She held on to 
his waist while his hips flipped his meaty pecker up and down inside her 
pussy. "Oooh, God, yes, baby," she hummed at him. "Give it to me hard." She 
said all of this in his ear in a gentle, hot whisper. "Give it to me so hard 
that I never forget it." 

He bore down, drilled up into her vaginal cave. He worked his meat from side 
to side against the labia lips of her twat. He used all the juice that was 
there to lubricate the exciting screwing. It didn't take more than about 
five more strokes for young Sharon Pettibone, in her fantasy, to cum off. 
"Oooh, Jesus! Oh, FUCKING CHRIST ALMIGHTY FUCK!" she roared at him. "Oh, 
shit." 

Her pussy flooded with sex soup. A moment later Danny pulled his long stiff 
phallus out of her hole. Sharon sat up. "That meat of yours," she said, 
sliding her finger up and down the pecker, "it's so pretty. So slippery and 
stiff. I just love it. I really do, Danny. I love that meaty cock muscle of 
yours. We have to fuck many times together. We will be lovers. I don't know 
if we'll ever get married the way they do in all the pretty books-" She gave 
his bone a special little squeeze with her whole fist. "-but we sure will do 
some hot fucking and sucking, eh?" She tugged on his meat bone and pulled 
out another drop of his semen juice. She leaned down with her mouth open and 
sucked it all up. She got that last drop of cum down her throat. "Mmmmmm, 
goooood!" she groaned, and then, almost instantaneously, Sharon Pettibone 
came back to reality. 

"Oh, Jesus," she grunted, taking her fingers out of her pie, "what the hell 
have I been doing?" She looked down between her legs. Beneath her little 
buns there was a slippery little puddle of clit juice. "I must have been 
fucking myself wild," she moaned. "I have to stop getting so carried away." 
But no sooner had she said something to this affect, when, without even 
thinking about it, she reached under her buttocks and stuffed a digit into 
her ass-hole. "Ahhhh, yes," she groaned, sliding her finger into her anus 
and all the way up to her bowels, "that's a little more like it." She wanted 
to really got in there and abuse herself, to hurt herself, to cause her 
asshole some pain. "Mmmmmmm, oooooohhh, yyyeeessss!" she groaned, beginning 
to grovel on her bed. She pulled her legs up close to her chest and kept 
stabbing her asshole with her finger. "Oh, God, yes," she moaned, "I wonder 
what goes with this!" 

A fantasy came to mind. She saw a big and not very friendly stranger 
reaching down to her buns. "I'm going to fuck you, Sharon," he said. "I'm 
going to ram my cock muscle up your asshole until you beg me for mercy. And 
then, you know what I'm going to do then? Do you think I'm going to pull my 
meat out of that tight little tube of yours? When you are begging and 
pleading with me, and when you are wincing from pain and bleeding from your 
sphincter, do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to reach around in 
front of you and take hold of your clit and stab you there with my fingers. 
I'm going to make you get all soft and juicy all over and I'm going to suck 
off your flesh little titties and your big red nipples-I'm going to ravish 
your body until you cry out in ecstasy that you've never had it so good. Are 
you ready my little darling Sharon?" 

"Would it matter if I said no?" 

He slapped her on the buttocks. He used an open hand. His palm stung her 
pure white cheeks. They turned cherry red as soon as his fingers cleared her 
butt. He spanked her a second time and then she began to welp and cry. "No, 
please, stop," she moaned. "YOU SHOULDN'T SPANK ME. IT'S NOT GOOD THAT WAY. 
NO HITTING. PLEASE!" 

But Sharon's screams and pleas were all useless. The mysterious fantasy 
stranger, the man she was dreaming about, kept his promise. He worked her 
ass cheeks with his hands, and with no lubrication he stuffed his cock 
muscle up inside her tight little virgin asshole tube. He gave the inside of 
her bowels a tight going over, a rubbing with the head of his spear that she 
could not honestly say was totally pleasurable. He rubbed and tugged and 
finally, when he pulled his meat out of her rear socket, there was, as he 
said there would be, blood on her sphincter. "Oooh, Christ ... oh, fuck, 
shit, piss, cunt, asshole, piss, urine, crap, fuck, fuuuuuucecccckkkkk!" 
screeched Sharon. "You can't ..." 

A moment later she was back from her fantasy fuck up the asshole. But she 
was still on her be with her finger crammed up her bunghole. "Jesus," she 
moaned, "even that didn't finish me off. I don't know what the hell I'm 
supposed to do to get a little sexual satisfaction around here ..." 

She sat up on the edge of her bed and looked at herself in the mirror. Her 
smooth blonde thighs were covered with chills. Her long blonde hair was 
matted to her face. She was sweating. Her face was flushed, and her chest 
blushed a heated red glow. She was as hot as she could possibly be. Her 
face, her eyes, her whole entire body revealed the fact that she was on the 
verge of orgasm, close to climax. "Fuck me, Lord," she moaned to herself. "I 
just want to cum. So fuck me." 

The door to the bedroom opened. "It's time for school, little sister," said 
Debby. "Or are you still pretending to have SWINE FLU?" Debby looked closely 
at Sharon. "Although you do look a little flushed." But then Debby saw the 
spot, the grey spot of juice, behind Sharon. "Oh, yes, but flushing can come 
from a number of things, can't it, darling little sister?" Debby shut the 
door on Sharon. 

The younger Pettibone daughter lay back against her bed. She had to be 
careful not to lay on the puddle of her own juices. "What a lot of ooze for 
nothin'," she complained to herself. "I was there, almost there, or 
something," she mumbled on. "I wish I could just get a big real cock in 
there and have it over with. That would be the thing to do. I wonder who at 
that lousy school would do me up right? Besides, who says it has to be at 
school? I could just go to the shopping mall or downtown and find myself a 
nice piece of real cock meat and no one would ever know the difference. 
Maybe I'll ..." 

Sharon's mind drifted. She saw herself walking in the downtown shopping 
center. She was looking for something. She was looking for a man. She'd know 
him when she saw him. Here and there, in front of various picture windows, 
she stopped and inspected the latest fashions. She was secretly waiting for 
some man, any man, to come up to her and grab her around the waist and send 
his meaty chopper up her asshole, or into her pie, or down her 
throat--anything, just so long as it was hot and thick and meaty. She wanted 
it badly. She believed that it could make her happy, make her forget all the 
trouble it was to be young and lonely ... 

Sure enough, along he came. His name was Carl. He took her by the hand and 
led her out of the shopping center. He was a big man, irresistible as far as 
the teenager was concerned, and he knew how to treat her right. He took her 
home with him, home to his bachelor apartment where the music was soft and 
the bed mellow. 

He spread her out and took off her skirt and her panties, her bra and her 
blouse. He let his hands inspect her smooth skin, her precious young body. 
His fingers tested out the feel of her creamy breasts, the humidity of her 
inner twat lips. He rubbed his one digit across her clitoris and watched her 
beg for more. 

"Carl," she pleaded, "won't you please use two fingers and go harder. Won't 
you PLEASE?" 

He could hardly refuse such a delicate request. He applied two fingers to 
the inside of her hot wet twat. He filled her pussy with his fingers, rubbed 
up and down across her clit meat and made sure that her body was about as 
hot as it could be. Then he climbed down between her long smooth loins and 
separated her thighs. He filled up the breach he'd made with his cock. He 
gave her everything he had to give her and then some. It only took him a 
minute to get all of his steely rod into place between her vaginal lips. He 
socked it to her, hammered away, jacked her up good. Her clit went banging 
and rocking against his flesh pole. She got so turned on that she couldn't 
possibly refuse the opportunity to reach around behind him and take hold of 
his buttocks. She did that, she squeezed, she rubbed a finger up and down 
the groove of that big rump of his. And then she pushed her big soft titties 
up against his chest and rubbed. She slid nice tender nipple tissue up and 
down next to his hairy chest. It was a good thrill for both of them, a nice 
heating for two horny people. "Mmmm," they both hummed at the same time, "I 
love it. I love to fuck and screw." 

When Sharon came to her senses, it was well after the time to leave for 
school. She decided that she was having too good a time fucking herself with 
her fingers, making herself hot with her fantasies. She decided to spend the 
rest of the day at home fingering her clitoris and rubbing her anus and 
stimulating her sexy nipples until she came. She wouldn't go to school, she 
decided, until her body turned hot and lusty, until juice oozed from her 
twat, until orgasm took over where frustration had begun. She was that hot, 
and home was where she intended to stay until it was all over. "Mmmmm," she 
hummed, "I love it. I love fucking myself." And with that she went happily 
to work on her twat hole and clit meat. 

Chapter 3 Friendly Persuasion 

"I'll tell you what it is with me," said Sharon Pettibone. 

"O.k., Sharon," said Angela, "you tell me all about it." 

"Don't be so sarcastic," said Sharon. "It's not nice. I have something sexy 
to tell you. You listen and you just might learn something." 

"That ought to be good," said Angela. "Me, a black girl, learning something 
from you, a white bitch. I mean really. And about sex, to boot. Really, 
Sharon. You Pettibones are just too fucking much." 

The black girl rolled up her sleeves and gave Sharon a wink. It was all in 
jest of course. The two girls had come together because whenever one or the 
other of them discovered something new in the way of sexy behavior that 
could help make one or the other of them physically satisfied, they shared 
the new find. They were life long friends. Like Sharon, Angela had a pretty 
body. She was black like an islander more than like a charcoal black woman, 
She was more brown than black. She had pretty and large eyes. Her breasts 
were full, and the nipples were always tender. Her slit was as juicy as they 
come, and her smooth comely legs were as supple as baby flesh. Angela was 
one of the prettiest women that Sharon knew, and the fact that both girls 
were only fifteen made their conversations all that much more interesting. 

"Anyhow," continued Sharon, "I found out something from my sister, from 
Debby. Look at this." She pulled a big plastic cock machine out of her 
purse. "You like the looks of that?" 

"What is, it?" asked Angela. "Some sort of egg-beater?" 

"Just about," said Sharon. "You try beating your clit with it and you'll 
find out." 

"That's a dildo," said Angela. "Well I'll be fucking damned. I sure am glad 
to see that you are learning a thing or two, Sharon Pettibone. I was 
beginning to wonder about you." 

"What do you mean, Angela? You knew all along about this thing and you never 
told me about it?" 

"Not exactly, but more or less." Angela blushed. "I was just a little afraid 
to tell you about it." 

"Well, well, well," said Sharon, "and we been friends like this for so long, 
eh? For that, Angela you get to work it out on me. How's that? Since you 
knew about it and you didn't tell me about it you can use it on my pussy. 
That sound fair?" 

"I guess so," said Sharon's black friend Angela. "I guess so." She took the 
tool from Sharon. "Where you want it, white girl?" 

"In my cunt, nigger. Where you think?" Sharon smiled as she undressed. She 
slipped out of her skirt first, then her panties, finally her bra and 
blouse. She had on all of the paraphernalia that the school required her to 
wear, and that was why it took her so long to undress. But once she was 
nude, once her big fresh titties started hanging out in the open, and once 
her cunt began to breathe again, she immediately got hot. "Mmm," she hummed 
as she spread out on Angela's bed, "this is going to be nice, eh?" She 
smoothed her thighs open with two palms. Her sap producing twat hole opened 
wide enough to accommodate an elephant hog. She reached down with two 
fingers and plied apart her cunt lips. "Get that thing all the way in there, 
eh?" 

Angela smiled cool white teeth between her dark black lips, "I'm going to 
give you something to think about, white bitch," said Angela. "You just lay 
back and enjoy." Angela switched the machine to full blast. She applied it 
first to shaking up Sharon's smooth thighs. She rolled the machine across 
the tops of Sharon's legs. 

Instantly, Sharon felt her body begin to quiver. She pretended that the 
dildo was a big hot live cock muscle attached to a big hot live man who was 
going rubbing up and down her smooth skin. She liked the feel of his big 
muscle and his strong body close to her. Of course, it was all fantasy, but 
at least with someone else working the machine she could easily pretend that 
the muscle was real. She closed her eyes tight and pretended in her mind 
that a big man was rubbing his penis across her leg, approaching her twat. 
She spread her loins and reached down and opened her pussy. "Go on," she 
moaned, "ain't you gonna fuck me? Ain't you gonna shove it all in there and 
make me cum?" 

"Sure, baby," said a masculine voice, "you just relax." She thought she saw 
a friend of hers from high school, a boy who she'd never imagined fucking. 
But here he was leaning down between her legs, his big muscle large and 
stiff, his mushroom head inches only from penetrating her vagina. She rolled 
her hips up and back so that her slot opened up for him. She showed off her 
labia and her furry bush. She showed him her wares, her clit and her lips 
and her juicing interior. She used her fingers to make sure that her highly 
stable pussy hole was wide open and ready to accommodate just about anything 
at all that he might want to go stuffing in her body. She rolled over onto 
her belly atone point, just to be sure that perhaps he might enjoy that side 
of her body before the other. She was young and anxious to please him in 
every way imaginable. "Do you want my asshole or my vagina?" she asked him 
plainly. 

"I want your vagina first," he said back just as clear. "I want to stuff my 
cock muscle in your cunt tube first, and then I will go for a little sail in 
your rear canal. But first the pussy, if you don't mind." He reached down 
and pulled her hips toward him. She flipped over onto her back and showed 
him again her pretty wet beaver. It was hairy and open, hot and ready. She 
told him to come ahead. 

It was Angela who brought Sharon momentarily back to reality: "You tell me, 
white girl, if you want all this machine stuffed up your cunt or just a part 
of it." 

"Don't worry. Work it in my hole. If it hurts, if it's no good, I'll let you 
know." She spread her smooth tender loins for Angela who speared the dildo 
into her body. "Jesus, fucking, Christ," she moaned, and she was off on a 
fantasy spree. The jerking, twisting, sliding machine was taking care of her 
twat, working her up and down and making her hotter and juicier while her 
mind was making her heart start to beat so fast that she didn't know what 
hit her. 

Sharon was thinking about the man who was fucking her earlier. The man had 
her turned on her back again and he was starting to enter her body. His 
meaty prick head was just beginning to spear her twat lips. "Don't you want 
me to suck you off first?" she asked. "Wouldn't a little header help you to 
get hotter and feel better when you finally do it?" 

"Yeah," said the man, "good thinking Sharon. You get to give me a little 
header because you think like that." He showed her his meat and she went to 
work on it, having to sit up to do so, but not minding at all once she saw 
what a handsome thick meat she would get to lick for her efforts. She put 
out her tongue and showed the young man what kind of a muscle was going to 
be rubbing up and down the sides of his joint. "That will do just fine," he 
said, and he took her by the sides of the head and face. He pulled her down 
alongside his pecker and rubbed her mouth along his joint as if his pecker 
were a track for her trolley car oral canyon. He gave her plenty of meat to 
do up right. 

She licked and sucked and slopped on his phallic hog like there was no 
tomorrow. She went rolling her tongue up and down on his joint. She coated 
the head of his meat with her tongue. She rubbed at the base and she sucked 
on the bony underside, It didn't take her long to start kissing off his 
balls. She used her hands to hold onto his hairy buns. She rubbed her face 
into his groin and licked whatever was easy for her mouth muscle to reach. 
Then she had him turn around. 

"You want a little ass kissing?" she asked him. 

"You want to ream me?" he countered. 

"I wouldn't mind," she said. "I kind of like a man with hairy buns and a 
nice little anus that I can lick out. It makes me hot, too, when the man 
does that to me, you know." 

"Sure, baby, but me first." He leaned over on his hands and knees and showed 
her his asshole. "You go in there with your tongue and that will make me 
feel awfully nice, I'm sure." He reached back and spread his buttocks for 
Sharon so that she could get her tongue down into his asshole. 

Sharon took a good look at the morsel offered. She poked her tongue forward 
and kissed the man's buns first. Then she went sliding and slopping up and 
down between his buttocks. She licked out his ass hole last. "There you 
are," she said when she was finished, "did you like that?" 

"You know I did," said the man. "Now you." He had her turn around. When he 
had a nice view of her pink ass flesh he dove into the cave. He filled her 
sloppy little bunghole with his big long mouth muscle. He drilled for oil 
and came up with bowels. She was as clean as could be so it was no special 
problem for him to enjoy the reaming that he was happy to provide. "Mmmm," 
he hummed after a moment or two, "you sure do have a nice tasty little ass 
here, darling. I could eat it all day long. But you know what? If I did that 
I wouldn't have much of a chance to get to fucking you, now, would I?" 

Sharon was quite pleased with the progress of her fantastic imagination. She 
was also pleased with the way that Angela was sliding that big plastic cock 
in and out of her spread lips. But she wanted to think about someone 
different fucking her. 

She pictured a man tanned to a mellow brown. She saw his big agile hands 
wrapping around her waist and pulling her groin open and close to his cock 
muscle. He pulled her from the small of her back and her legs parted 
naturally. Her smooth thighs spread out and open and her pussy was all juice 
and ready. 

"Fuck me, Jack," she told him. "Come into me and fuck me hard." 

He smiled at her and said: "I have a nice big boner made especially for you, 
Sharon. Are you ready for it?" He looked down between her loins and saw how 
pretty her pussy pie was looking, how steamy and wet the bushy fur and 
spread lips were. He smiled at her again. "Are you ready for my big bone-on, 
darling?" 

"Oh, yes," said Sharon. She, too, looked down between their two bodies. 
There she saw how large an erection Jack bad. He had a big long stiff 
muscular penis, one that could easily penetrate every fold of her interior 
flesh, a cock muscle that could surely bring her all kinds of sensual 
ecstasy. "Go on," she said. "Go on and fuck me hard with that big tool of 
yours, Jack. I need it. I want it. Really stuff it into me and make me cum 
hard. Mmmmm, come on and fuck me!" She rolled her hips in his hands. He 
kneaded the flesh of her hips and the skin of her ass cheeks. He searched 
for and found, with one long middle finger, her anus. He filled that tight 
muscular tube with hot boney digit. He rubbed hard at her anus until she was 
fully penetrated from the other side in her cunt. His meaty joint was all 
the way down her twat before he even considered taking his cock out of her 
vagina. He gave her everything at once and that blasted her into the land of 
sexual Nirvana. 

"Shit!" she hollered. "Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! Fuck, shit! Fuck and 
shit! It's just too fucking much, darling. Jack, darling, look at it." 

Because he held her loose in his arms, in his hands, he could indeed look 
down between their two bodies and see where his thick flesh trunk drilled in 
and out of her heaving pelvis. He could see how shiny his cock was with her 
snail-track clit juice, how bony that muscle was from excitement, and how 
spread out her twat lips were because he was so thick and jumbo sized in the 
crotch. He gave her all of his boner down the throat of her cunt. 

"Mmmm, I love it," she whispered, climbing up the length of his rod. Soon 
all of it was in her, all of that meaty hog hard-on was buried in her pussy 
flesh, and there was no escaping him. She was going to be fucked so hard 
that she would be able to taste it in her throat. 

"Kiss me," said the man. "Come close and give me your tongue." She climbed 
up his torso and gave him her tongue. She gave him all of her tongue, enough 
that he could get his mouth full of it. He swallowed on it, and she even 
feared that he would choke her to death, pull her tongue right out of the 
place where it was attached-that was how hard he ate her mouth muscle. He 
gave her back some of his own, Frenched her in the face, and he worked with 
his hands, at the same time, massaging her smooth little ass cheeks, working 
out with his chest against her voluptuous boobies. Her nipples were sprung 
like spring cherries, and her titties were mammoth, swollen with desire, 
ready for eating and licking and slopping. He went sliding down to 
them--when he had finished kissing her in the mouth--and he licked off her 
chest for a while. 

All the time that the man worked out in his oral style on her body, Sharon 
continued to rock her hips back and forth, from side to side, on his massive 
pecker. It was like a wooden peg in her twat, something for her to work out 
with, something that would nail her down, tack her to whatever was behind 
her, make her cum ... 

She rolled up and down on the thick peg. She worked with it in her vagina 
and prayed that she would cum ... and slowly but surely she realized that 
she wasn't in the arms of some fantastic lover, that she had no peg like 
phallus pushing up into her pussy, and that in fact she was enjoying the 
thrill of an automatic dildo, a twisting, gyrating, screwing egg-beating 
electric cock, wielded by her black friend Angela, that the dildo was 
sliding up and down in her pussy. 

"Oh, God," she moaned out loud. "Jesus fucking God! I don't know what's 
happening. Please. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" She begged Angela to stop 
fucking her with the dildo. 

"Now, now," said Angela, "you just take it easy, little darling. We have to 
get you good and hot and then you'll be alright. You understand? You just 
have to get a little hotter and you'll be fine Angela had the sliding 
eggbeater up against Sharon's hot clitoris. The little muscle was getting 
quite a slippery work-out, and, in fact, Sharon had probably not been so 
high in a good long while. She was, in fact, very confused. She couldn't 
just then tell the difference between her fantasy world and the real world, 
but she did know one thing for sure: she was getting awfully horny 
everywhere in her body! 

Sharon spread her legs wide. This way she could get the maximum benefit from 
the machine. She lifted her knees and pulled a pillow under her smooth rear 
end. She supported her twat at just the right angle for a proper rubbing. 
"Mmmm, good," she told Angela, "keep it coming and I'll be doing the same 
..." 

Her mind drifted. She conjured up the image of herself and some strange 
older man. They were alone on a beach. The man was probably in his late 
forties. She, of course--young Sharon Pettibone was still only fifteen. She 
was naked, as was the man. She spread her legs wide and put her hands on her 
hips. 

"Well, Mr. Big," she said, nodding at his muscle, at his organ. "Are you 
going to put that piece of sausage in my twat or what?" She reared back in 
laughter and showed off her clean white choppers. They looked sharp and 
ready for meat-eating. Mr. Big came forward and slapped her across the face 
so hard that her laughing, bobbing head shook with the jolt like an 
earthquake had hit it. "Ugh, you brute," she moaned. She went teetering down 
onto the sand below. 

Mr. Big climbed on. He filled her breach with cock meat. The luscious slot 
spread wide and his big rooty muscle went jamming down into her body. He 
gave her the head of his cock, the thick shaft, the wide, muscular base. It 
was all hers, all hers to climb and cum on. She was on her way to fuck-stick 
heaven, up the orgasm ladder. "Mmmm, good," she moaned, impaled on the fuck 
rod as she was. "I love it." She squirmed like a bait worm on a hook. Her 
smooth golden thighs spread out and soft supple flesh rippled as Mr. Big's 
big boner bounced in and out of the luscious wet breach. "I love it," he 
said softly in her ear. "I love to screw nice young virgin @eat. You got 
plenty of that for me, eh? Plenty of nice young virgin pussy meat to wrap 
around my big cock muscle, right little one? Just enough twat hole to make 
Charley Big feel nice and good, eh? Ha, ha, ha." He drilled down deep and 
filled her nice fleshy hole with all the cock hard-on he could possibly give 
her. It was a long slide for the two of them, especially so for young Sharon 
Pettibone because Mr. Big's muscle was more than nine inches long. 

When she came back to reality again, Sharon saw that Angela was fisting the 
plastic boner faster and faster in and out of her pussy hole. "You better 
slow down a little," suggested Sharon, "or you're going to wipe me out with 
that thing. Got to save some of this for later, you know." 

"Sure," said Angela, pulling the tool out of Sharon's twat. "Why don't you 
show me the backside and I'll give you a little tickle there?" 

"Good thinking," said Sharon, and she rolled over onto her hands and knees. 
"Will that thing fit?" 

"You just wait and see," said Angela. The black girl lifted the big plastic 
organ up to her lips. She sucked off the tip of it and wet down the shaft. 
What wasn't coated with clit ooze from the previous rubbing in Sharon's 
sassy twat hole was now covered with saliva. Angela located the tip of the 
twirling dildo at the tapered entrance to Sharon's sphincter tube. "Just 
want to make sure I have the exactly right angle, darling one. You ready?" 

"Ready when you are," said Sharon. She waved her little cheeks in 
preparation for the slide about to take place in her ass hole. "Come on into 
me." 

Angela shoved forward. She pushed the hot twisting dildo into Sharon's anus. 
Filling the track with mechanical cock worked wonders on young Sharon 
Pettibone's neat rump. The flesh appeared pinker, hotter, wetter. The ass 
cheeks appeared to fold open, like a can of sardines. There was an oily 
sheen, as with sardines, too, and her smooth globes appeared to be sweating 
as they swayed up and down in rhythm with the pounding mechanical joint. 

"Oh, God, FUCK!" cried Sharon in total passion. "I just can't ... FUCK!" 

"Of course you can fuck, dear one," said young black Angela. "Just 
concentrate." She stabbed in another four inches. She rammed the big hard 
joint machine all the way down the rump throat. She filled the back canal 
with the mechanical cannon. "Nowhere to go?" queried young Angela. "No more 
room in there for hot pecker? I don't believe it." She stood up on her feet 
and straddled the area behind young Sharon Pettibone's ass. With one hand 
holding the machine, Angela used the other to spread out the teenager's ass 
flesh. She pried the two buttocks back and open. She worked the big ham-hock 
dildo up and down and right and left. She wormed it around, like a man 
working a lever which turns some terrifically large oil drill. Angela worked 
the hot dildo in and out of her friend's ass-hole until Sharon began to cry 
with delight? "I'm getting so fucking hot, darling. I'm getting so 
unbearably hot and lusty and ... ooooh, fuuuuccckkk! FUCK ME OVER, MAN. 
FUCK! SHIT! PISS! FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!" 

With that last delightful little song just having left her lips, little 
Sharon passed out and dreamt that she was in the arms of a big strong gym 
coach. The gym coach had his hands around Sharon from behind. He had his 
naked raw muscle shoved up her ass hole, and his palms rubbed smoothly at 
her titties. From time to time he dipped downwards, between her tender slick 
loins, there to go for a delightful little rubbing on her clitoris and 
mound. He would help himself, too, to a little feel of her labia lips, a 
kind of a rub and slide in the pussy wet flesh of her loins. "Mmm," he would 
hum to the back of her ear lobe, "aren't you a special little fuck for me? 
Aren't you a delightful little piece of ass ..." And he would slide his 
penis another inch deeper into her anal track. "I love the feel of those 
long smooth muscles of yours getting a good hold on my penis, darling. Give 
me a good squeeze. Reach back here with one hand and squeeze my balls at the 
same time." 

Sharon Pettibone followed directions. She reached back under her crotch and 
into the gym coach's scrotum. She took hold of his nut nest and rubbed her 
tender little fingers up and down across the sack. She made sure that his 
hairy nuts were properly stimulated, that his thick muscular thighs were 
sexually rubbed, that his cock shaft, what portion of it wasn't already 
stuffed into her exquisitely tight ass hole muscle, was massaged and tugged 
upon. "Mmmm, good," she would sigh at him as she rolled her fingers from 
underneath on his balls, as she scraped softly at his loins. "I love the 
feel of good sex organs getting hot and going for a nice rubbing in my ass 
hole like that. You do me up right, sir. Just right ..." 

A moment later she was back in reality. She turned around and looked behind 
herself. She saw that the scraping she felt in her ass hole was not from her 
fantasy man attacking her butt. Rather, it was from her black friend Angela 
riding the dildo as hard as possible in and out of her anus. The big thick 
plastic pecker was rolling up and down, rubbing from side to side, 
stretching out young Sharon Pettibone's smooth muscular anus and making hash 
out of her cheeks. "Jesus," she moaned, "you got to slow down a little." 

Angela pulled the synthetic cock out. "I'm going to wash this thing. Then 
I'll do your twat up right. O.k.?" 

"O.k.?" said Sharon. "That sounds nice." She rolled onto her back and waited 
for Angela to return. A moment later the naked black teenager returned. She 
carried the dripping wet dildo. "All set?" asked Sharon. "Ready for a 
fucking!" exclaimed Angela. "You just give me that pie to work with." 

Sharon spread her legs. She wasn't far from climax. She needed a little more 
rubbing. Just another few strokes would probably send her. "Put it right 
in," she directed. "Get that thing pumping." 

Angela stroked the head of the dildo against Sharon's hot, aroused clitoris. 
"That meaty little twat-penis of yours sure is jumpy." She pushed the boner 
against the clit. "There," she said, "that ought to send you." 

Indeed. Sharon Pettibone saw stars. The stroking, sliding, rubbing dildo 
worked wonders on her clitoris. She couldn't believe how sensitive she was 
there. More juice flooded her chamber, just to keep up with the rubbing 
machine. "Jesus," she moaned half-aloud, half to Angela. "Oh, Jesus ..." 

She couldn't keep from thinking about falling in love with a real man. She 
saw him fondling her breasts and rubbing his palm down between her legs. He 
sandwiched her between his two hands, one set of five fingers squeezing her 
buttery buns, the other wrapping around her twat, her mound, gouging out her 
labia lips and filling her hole with digits ... "Oh, God," she moaned, and 
she rubbed the hairy chest and manly nipples of the man who attacked her. 
"Give me more," she begged. He pulled her up alongside his huge erection. 
The boner acted like a guide-post, gave her something to do, something to 
think about. She landed her mouth around the head of the joint and swallowed 
down hard. She bit off the tip with her gums, mouthed the thing until it was 
as wet as it could be. She wrapped her hands around his buns and pulled even 
more of his boner into her boggling gorgeous face. "Mmmm, good," she hummed 
on the meaty shaft. "Soooo fucking gooood!" She rubbed her hands between his 
legs and played with his balls at the same time. She enjoyed having this 
man's meat in her face, this man's balls in her fingers, his rump between 
her sliding, massaging palms. "I love it," she said, taking his prick out of 
her mouth. "I really do love it." She climbed up along side his hairy chest 
and wrapped her legs around his leg. She rubbed her thighs up and down 
around his thigh. Then she took one knee and raised it up between his legs. 
He pressed his thighs closed on her upper ample thigh. He took his balls for 
a nice sliding rub on her leg. "You do that good," he told her. "You do that 
very well." 

She kissed him on the lips. She gave him all of her tongue and then some. 
They Frenched like that for a moment. She let her hand slide down between 
his buns. She arrived at his anus muscle. She poked inwards and filled the 
rear cavity with a delightful tickling sensation. "Mmmm, good," she hummed, 
happy to have stumbled onto his anal hole. "I like to play with a good 
little ass hole. If you bend over ..." 

He bent over. He gave her what she wanted to lick. It took an hour for the 
foreplay. He let her rub his testicles and his buns, his anus and his 
mushroom head. She worked on his cock shaft, his manly nipples, his thighs. 
He, for his part, took to rubbing her chest, her belly, her loins. He ate 
out her cunt on several occasions. He used his tongue, his lips, his nose 
even. He worked it up into a frothy lather of hot clit juice which smelled 
delicious. He used a finger to poke around in her ass hole, something she 
greatly appreciated his doing. She rolled her buns up and down on that 
stabbing finger, and she worked her hips like a mad-woman when he stuck her 
all the way. 

It was just after that that he filled her pussy with his cock muscle. Then 
he had his joint all the way up her vaginal tube and a finger up into her 
bowels, both at the same time. She wasn't far from coming when he began to 
pump at full speed, working both finger and phallus in a steady cadence of 
sexual grind which could only make her hotter, hornier and lustier. Soon it 
would be over, they would both melt to juice, both turn to buttery soft 
orgasmic climax. "Ooooh, God," she cried when her long interior twat muscles 
started to press closed around his penis. "Ooooh, God, fuck me good and 
hard. Really grind that meaty thing of yours into me. Press that hot cock 
dick into my pussy and make me cum. Make me cum a lot! I want to cum, baby. 
I want that big joint to get me so hot that I juice all over everything! You 
understand? Give me more of that thick boner meat of yours. That's the thing 
I love-hot cock boner meat rubbing in my twat-hole. You know what I'm 
talking about? Good. Give it to me! MAKE ME CUM, GOD DAMN IT! MAKE ME 
FUCKING CUM!" 

She rolled her hips in a steady gyrating motion. The inside of her sweet 
young tube contracted around his long hard meat. She could see, if she 
looked that way, his fleshy boney trunk. It was spreading her labia lips 
wide apart. Sometimes, on the out strokes, she could see the fleshy spear, 
how wet and juicy it was, how slippery and slimy that thing was getting. She 
could feel it stab her, rub on her clitoris and get sloppy and easier with 
every thrust. "Mmmm," she hummed at the thing. It had an hypnotic affect on 
her. She could watch it go in and out. She could see it fucking her. She 
liked to think: Mmmmm, I'm getting screwed, and that penis going in and out 
of my vagina--it's doing the screwing, and it is really fucking nice! 

She climbed up along the rod. She used her labia lips like hands to hold 
onto a pole with. She grabbed on and kept climbing. She went up high on the 
flesh stalk. Her twat took more and more of the pogo stick rod. She rubbed 
up and down on it. "Mmmm, nice," she moaned, and then suddenly, she was back 
in reality. 

Angela was sitting next to her. "You sure did get carried away," said 
Angela, flicking off the dildo. "You were in some other land, baby. It was 
nice to watch you sweat like that." 

"Did I cum?" asked Sharon Pettibone. 

"Did you cum? Jes look at that splotch there! That's gonna be one of the 
biggest stains you ever did see. And it's not like Mammy ain't gonna know 
what it is, neither. Fact is, she's gonna think I been out fucking around!" 
Angela set the dildo aside and leaned over her white friend. She applied her 
big pink tongue to the inside of Sharon's heated mouth. "Mmmm," she hummed, 
"I shore do like kissing you, white baby. It's yummy yum yum good!" And she 
smacked her big thick black lips again and kissed Sharon Pettibone one more 
time right in the mouth. 

"I like that, too," said Sharon. "Are you still mad at me about that stain 
there on the sheets?" She flicked Angela's titty tips a couple of times with 
one finger while she waited for an answer. 

"Naw," said Angela. "After all, what are friends for?" 

Chapter 4 Morning Becomes Electric 

"You were masturbating," said Debby Pettibone in a hushed voice. "Ha-ha, 
ha-ha!" She pointed a nasty finger. "You were jacking off, Sharon, and I 
caught you. Ha-ha, ha-ha." 

Sharon blushed and pulled the covers up around her naked breasts. "Get out 
of here, you old bitch," she scolded back at her sister. 

"Don't you talk to me that way," said Debby, jumping onto the bed and 
pulling down the sheets again. "I'll teach you to talk to me that way." She 
took hold of her sister's nipples and pulled on them, pinched them off hard. 

"Oh, fuck," cried out Sharon. "That hurt. You fucking little bitch. I'm 
gonna fucking ..." She leapt up and toppled her sister. She climbed down off 
the bed and onto the floor where Debby was laughing and giggling and trying 
to keep from being much more vulnerable than she already was--uncontrollably 
hysterical and nude. Both girls were bundles of naked energy. 

"Oh, Jesus," cried Debby. "No, stop, please." 

If the Pettibone parents had been home they'd have come to the rescue. 
They'd have never permitted such perverse cavorting. But Mr. and Mrs. 
Pettibone were out at a wife-swapping party, and there was no one around to 
prevent Sharon from meeting out a cool revenge to her darling sister Debby. 
"You try any of that scolding with me again, big sis," she reprimanded her 
older sister while straddling the woman at the titties, "and I'll have to 
beat you up." She tickled Debby one more time under the chin and along her 
boobs. "You understand, big sis?" Before she stood up off her sister she 
pressed her hands down flat over Debby's big boobies. "Or do I have to rub 
it in?" She wiggled her sister's titties back and forth. 

"You little heathen!" shouted Debby who's belly was now coated with her 
sister's slimy clit juice. "You got a lot of nerve threatening me. I'll 
teach you." And she leapt upwards and pushed Sharon back down onto the bed. 
The two girl wrestlers went at it with each other, pushing and pulling, 
rubbing and tugging, taking advantage of every female wrestling trick in the 
book. Finally, young Sharon located a hand up behind Debby's buns. She 
pulled the two globes apart and slipped a finger into her sister's ass 
crotch. 

"Oh, you bitch," hollered Debby. "You can't! No! I won't let you! Oh, God!" 
But it was no good. Young Sharon had a good hold on her older sister. She 
had the girl from behind. She had her legs spread and straddling Debby's 
back. She could manipulate her finger, even though it meant reaching back 
behind herself, in any direction she chose. She did that, too, and she took 
her older sister's butt end for a good little scrubbing. "Mmmm," she said as 
she poked down deep in Debby's ass hole, "don't you just love to have me 
masturbate your bunghole? Say it, Debby. Tell me how you love it." 

"Oh, God, Jesus," hollered Debby. "You have to stop. Please stop. Oh, God, 
no ..." 

Sharon let up. She stood up off of Debby. She allowed her sister room to 
roll over. "Look at that," she said when Debby moved out of the way. "You 
were enjoying it. Look at that clit juice stain. That's from you, Debby. You 
were having a good time with my finger up your ass hole." 

"Leave me alone," said Debby Pettibone, trying to gain her composure. 
"You're just a little fart. Nothing more. A bitch and a fart." 

"Don't talk to me that way," said Sharon, "or I'll have to give older sister 
a spanking. And I know you wouldn't want your little cheeks to be all black 
and blue when Kevin comes to pick you up tonight. Now would you?" 

"You're a little ass hole," said Debby. 

Sharon grabbed her unassuming sister. She shoved Debby back down and started 
walloping her hand on her sister's cheeks. She slapped and spanked until 
tears came into Debby's eyes. "Oh, God, please stop," she moaned. "I didn't 
mean it, Sharon. I'll never say something like that again. Please stop." 
Sharon smacked her sister's buns a couple more times and then she let the 
older girl up. If it were a true contest, had Debby not been reaping some 
sexual gratification from the whipping, perhaps then she'd have won a 
physical competition against her sister. But it was not an athletic event-it 
was a bit of masturbatory play for the two of them, and they both enjoyed it 
a great deal. 

"Well," said Sharon, noting her sister's cherry blush, "we're going to have 
to do that more often, eh Sis?" 

"Oh, yeah," said Debby halfheartedly because she was still recovering. "Sure 
we will ..." She rubbed her sore fanny. "My ass is going to be sore for 
weeks." 

"Oh, you know as well as I do," said Sharon, "that if you wanted to you 
could go another round of spanking right here and now. You're really into 
that shit." 

"Leave me alone, little girl," said Debby. She would always do that to 
Sharon, pull rank, when she wanted to end things or to go on to something 
else. It was her way of saying that she was done playing one game and ready 
to try out another. She picked herself up off the bed and started getting 
ready for her date. "You know," she said, combing her hair in the bedroom 
mirror, "you really ought to do something about those ugly old horns of 
yours, little sister." 

"I didn't know they were that ugly," said Sharon. "And what do you suggest?" 

"Oh, well, as for their appearance, it's just not nice seeing them stick out 
all over the way they do. And as for what to do about them, well, you could 
shove it up your ass ..." She turned around and smiled devilishly at Sharon. 
Then she tossed the young girl a hair brush with a plastic handle shaped not 
unlike the stalk of a firm boner. "Or you could tickle your clit. Or, you 
could go out and get laid. That would probably be the best thing to do. It 
would do you the most good." 

Sharon Pettibone spread herself out on her bed. She reached down between her 
two legs and rubbed her loins. "I don't want to lose my virginity just yet," 
she explained absentmindedly. "You know what I mean? I just don't think it's 
time." 

"Why not?" said Debby, putting a beret into her hair to hold it in place as 
a large blonde bun on top. "Afraid?" 

"How old were you?" asked Sharon. "When you got your cherry popped, as they 
say?" 

"I was twelve, going on thirteen," said Debby with a smile. 

"Yer kidding," said Sharon. 

"No," said Debby, "I'm not. I was playing squat-tag in a cucumber patch and 
I just happened to sit down in the wrong place." She laughed uproariously at 
her own joke. Then she turned to Sharon. "Actually, I was only twelve years 
old. His name was Barney. He had a big thorny thing. We were out in the back 
yard on Charles Avenue. Mom and Dad and you were in the house doing I don't 
know what. We were messing around out by the avocado tree. I just wanted to 
have some fun. I didn't know for real what we were doing. He took me behind 
the tree and told me he wanted to kiss me. I'd kissed plenty of guys so I 
wasn't worried. He was maybe sixteen or seventeen, so when he kissed me it 
was kind of different than with some of the guys my own age. gave me his 
tongue and I didn't know what to d thought maybe that was how people got 
pregnant or something. I didn't know. He was French kissing me. 

"I think I was wearing shorts then. You know, little cotton white shorts 
that came up high on my thighs. I have nice legs, and that's what made 
Barney think that I was a lot older. He thought maybe I was fourteen or 
fifteen or something. Anyhow, he got me down on the grass and started 
rubbing his leg up and down between my legs. I didn't know what to make of 
that. I just knew it was making me feel awfully good. He went sliding that 
leg back and forth. I reached around him and took hold of his buns. I liked 
the feel of a boy's buttocks even back then. I didn't know why, really, but 
I knew I liked it. I felt him up, rubbed his crack a little, you know, and 
boy oh boy did he get hot! He got to pushing up and down on my pelvis and 
rubbing his cock there and everything. I could feel that lump. I didn't know 
what an erection was, but I knew that he had something different there than 
what I expected. He went pushing it up and down against my legs. Like I 
said, I wasn't wearing anything but shorts and a blouse because it was 
summer and it was hot and we were outside. But it sure was nice feeling him 
rubbing up against me, and I could feel that muscle of his even through that 
pair of levies he was wearing. 

"Then something funny happened. He just stopped. He stopped kissing and 
rubbing and everything. Like as if it was nothing at all to him. I didn't 
know what to make of it. There I was all hot and everything and he had 
completely stopped all together. I didn't know what to do. I was only twelve 
but I had this feeling in my titties, in my nipples which were almost fully 
developed, in my mammaries that maybe something had happened. I looked down 
at his levies and there was this darker blue spot. You know what I mean? His 
jeans were darker there than they were everywhere else. I wondered if he 
peed or something. Then he told me: 'We can do some more in a minute, Debby. 
You just have to wait a minute. You want to see it while you're waiting?' I 
kind of had an idea of what he meant by IT but I didn't want to make him 
think I was ignorant or anything. I didn't know what to say. I thought maybe 
that was the right thing to do. So I told him to bring IT out. And he did. 

"I nearly fainted. It was so big, Sharon, I just can't tell you." 

"I'm getting hot just listening," said Sharon Pettibone. "What happened 
next?" 

"Well, next, he makes me lick it. He wanted me to go rubbing my tongue up 
and down on it. At first I didn't want to do it. I don't know why, but I 
told him that I thought it was nasty, which I really didn't think at all, 
and I told him that I could get in a lot of trouble from Mom if I did 
something like that. He told me not to worry, that he would take care of my 
Mom, that there wasn't anything wrong at all with licking it. I told him I 
didn't know for sure if I should and then he made me look one more time. 

"After I saw it that second time, how thick and thorny that thing was ... 
well, Lordy be, I just couldn't refuse him that. I couldn't resist it 
myself, neither. I went right on down on it, rubbing my chin first, then my 
lips sort of light and all, and then my tongue. That was the best part, for 
both of us. I liked to rub my tongue up and down on it. I treated it like a 
big lollypop. I went sliding my tongue on one side and down the other and 
then on the bottom of the shaft and then on the top and then I licked up 
that whole big mushroom head. There wasn't anything I wouldn't have done for 
that boy then. I took that whole hog, or as much of it as I could get, into 
my mouth and I sucked. I made it really tight in my face and I moved my neck 
back and forth, swung it around like as though it was a flesh stick of some 
sort. I took to rubbing and sliding like that till it was good and ready. 
Mmmm, boy, it was so nice! I just can't tell you how much I enjoyed sucking 
off that stick of his. 

"Well, anyhow, if I hadn't enjoyed rubbing my tongue against his cock that 
way, and if I hadn't enjoyed sucking him like that, I probably wouldn't have 
let him pop my cherry when I was just a kid. Because that's what made me so 
hot. Blowing him like that, and I didn't know nothing about it. You know 
what I mean? I just got hotter and lusty and all, and I didn't even know 
what to call it. 

"He told me to take off my pants, which I did. And then he told me to take 
off my panties, and I did that too. He went looking down there, looking 
around as if he wanted to make sure that it was healthy or something. He 
went pushing his tongue in and out of it, too. I asked him why he was doing 
that and whether or not it was nasty,- and he said it sure didn't taste bad 
to him at all. I liked the feel of that tongue of his rubbing up against my 
pussy like that. He knew just how to get hold of my clitoris and make it hot 
and thick and stiff. And besides, we were out there in the bright noonday 
sun under that avocado tree and there was like a little summer wind blowing. 
It was so romantic, I just can't tell you ..." 

"Anyhow, one thing led to another and the next thing I knew he was sticking 
that big sword of his up into my twat. You know what I mean? I had that 
whole big meat to deal with. And it was thick, too! It was about as long as 
a broom handle, or that's the way it looked to me. And he was jamming it 
into my pussy. You got to remember that I didn't know a damn thing about sex 
or anything, and I was just laying there with my legs spread out and this 
boy Barney stuffing that big thorny thing into my twat-hole. Jesus, I 
thought I was going to die. When he was done I didn't know where I was. I 
knew I was bleeding between my legs and I knew that something wasn't the 
same. I was hot and horny and all, but he was done doing whatever it was he 
had done. I didn't know until the next time, when he told me what it was, 
that we had been fucking. It was quite something to find out afterwards, 
about two years later, after I had been screwing and having a grand old time 
for all that many months, that I wasn't supposed to ever be doing that 
unless I was married. I guess I had fucked nearly ten boys by then, and I 
loved every one of them. It was great to be young and happy and in love back 
then. It's not like now at all. Not at all like now ..." 

"Wow," moaned Sharon Pettibone who until just then thought she knew 
everything about her sister. "You were really brave to do something like 
that way back then. I mean really!" But she was actually thinking about how 
horny she was in her twat, how wet and juicy her cunt lips were getting, and 
how, if only she could, she wished to be alone to fantasize a little more 
and make herself cum all the way. Luckily, it was just then that her sister 
Debby said she was going to watch some t.v. Sharon said she'd be out in a 
little while, that she wanted to think about what it would be like to have a 
real man just once. 

As soon as the bedroom door shut, she pulled out the electric prick which 
had become her habitual toy. She spread her legs and crammed the switched-on 
fuck device down between her twat lips. She applied it up and down to the 
inside of her cunt hole, and she manipulated the thing so that it would get 
to her clitoris and make her hot and wet the way she wanted to be-ALL THE 
WAY! She shoved the thing in hard and let her mind go with a new fantasy 
about what it would be like to have at least one man of her own. 

His name was Barney, just like her sister's first lover, only he wasn't 
sixteen or seventeen. He was a big mature man, probably in his thirties. He 
had plenty of money, his own sports car and house, and plenty of pizzazz. He 
knew how to treat Sharon Pettibone right, too. He spread her out on his 
water bed and rubbed his face up and down next to her hot twat lips. He 
jerked his tongue up and down against her clitoris and made her get all hot 
and stiff in a matter of seconds. He used his hands to roll her smooth hips, 
to feel up her big breasts, and to raise her heinie, from underneath, to 
push and pull on her buttocks and to penetrate her asshole. He shoved a 
finger into her bunghole at the same time that he ate out her twat. He was, 
more than anything else, confident of the work he performed on her pussy and 
on her anus. He made her turn-on seem effortless and she liked him for that. 

"Do it to me harder," she intoned. "Really get that face of yours slopping 
around in there. Make me cum." 

He went busily licking. Up and down her twat lips he spread his tongue. 
Sometimes he picked out one side or the other to work on. When he licked the 
left side he breathed in. When he licked the right lip he breathed out. When 
he worked his tongue up against her clitoris, he didn't worry about his 
breathing. He just went licking and sucking. He puckered his lips and kissed 
her stiff clit meat, and then again he would open his mouth wide and suck up 
the whole thing entire. He enjoyed getting down in there and getting sloppy 
with her clit and her labia. 

"You know something," he said to her crack while he held her two buns in his 
two palms, "you have a nice little pussy here. Very, very nice." He slid his 
tongue up and down on those two nice twat lips. Her cunt was juicy and it 
smelled good, too. "I like the taste of your twat, baby," he told her. "It 
tastes nice and fresh. It's gonna feel real nice, too, when I go and give 
you my tool to grind on a little bit, eh?" 

He didn't wait for Sharon's answer. He got up off his hands and knees and 
climbed her torso. He landed at first with his face between her big boobies. 
Then he gave her mouth his own. He licked her tongue with his mouth muscle. 
He sucked on her tongue with his thick lips. He rubbed his cock up and down 
between her legs at the same time as he was kissing her face. He used the 
head of his muscular spear to go rubbing and sliding on her clitoris. That 
was the part they both enjoyed the most. He liked to feel her slippery 
little twat-pecker rubbing on his penis head, and she liked the feel of 
having her clit bent back and forth several times in a row. The severe 
bending of her clit, the flicking, gave her chills. 

"God damn fuck," she moaned in his ear, "do me up right." And she reached 
down and took his two buns in her two hands and pressed his hips downwards 
between her ample and supple loins. In he went. His bull thick hog meat 
penetrated her cave, flattened out the creases and gave the back wall an 
especially stimulating rub-down. He knew how to make a woman hot. Sharon 
Pettibone was no exception. 

Barney slid his meat in and out of her breach. He felt the healthy juices 
begin to flow. The contents of Sharon's twat were cock meat and clit ooze. 
There wasn't room for anything else. Barney took to a steady, primitive 
rhythm. His ass wasn't flapping, even though he was screwing at full 
speed-Sharon had his buns in her two palms. 

She kneaded the flesh of his ass cheeks. She worked a finger, every now and 
then, up and down the narrow space of his rear crack. When it occurred to 
her to do so, she penetrated his anal sphincter muscle with a finger. She 
would shoot it downwards, one thrust, and fill up the muscular tube with 
digit. She would find his bowels and worm around like roto-rooter man. He 
would do the same for her, sending a bigger, tougher finger up into her 
asshole and then popping it out in a long slide down. 

"Oh, Christ," she moaned on one occasion, and she pulled her fingers away 
from his anus. She didn't want to compete with his method. He used both of 
his hands to ply her cheeks open and closed while his branding iron flesh 
sex organ worked miracles inside her young and tender twat. He drilled her 
down hard, rubbed in and out fast, and soon he was fucking her with all of 
his might. "You're going to make me cum," she told him. "You're going to 
make me cum all over the fucking place. Oh, please, God, you're going to 
make me cum ..." 

She could feel his bony rod bursting with sexual energy. The head of the 
mushroom meat was only seconds away from exploding. There was a mild twitch 
in the mechanism. His joint was about to fire off. There was going to be 
sperm juice just about everywhere. She was going to open up her legs, spread 
her scissor-like thighs, and bango-wango! He would have filled her tubes 
with all the come spray needed to populate ten planets the size of the 
earth. It was going to be truly ORGASMIC! 

She rolled her hips. She slid her hands up and down the sides of his body. 
"Fuck me, honey," she moaned. "Fuck me hard and long so that I cum ..." 

And then he began to throb off. He filled her insides with hot juicy cum. He 
gave her all the pudding she could use. She squeezed him off harder with her 
interior muscles. She could feel the hot pudding bullets spraying at the 
back of her cave. It was like someone had come in there with a machine gun 
loaded with sperm juice. He was scattering the inside of her meaty twat with 
buckshot made of jism. 

"Oh, Christ," she hollered at him, "you're fucking my brains out, man. You 
really are giving me a hot number there." She could feel, of course, the 
heart-shaped head of his meat branding the inside of her sweet soft skin. He 
was giving her his mark, setting out his territory, and he was filling her 
full of his jism juice. She couldn't do anything except to cry out in 
ecstasy: "FFFUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!" 

When she came to Sharon Pettibone realized that she was laying on her bed 
with the mechanized penis in her hand. She was rolling it from side to side 
so as to stimulate and rub, to arouse sexually, her inner lips. She was 
working the rubber prong tip of the electric dildo back and forth next to 
her twat. "Oh, come on and go," she commanded her young pussy. "Shoot off 
you bastard. Make me cum. Where the hell is my ORGASM?!!" 

But no amount of ordering herself around could get the teenager's pussy hot 
enough to send her over the crest of that last mountain of lust. She just 
couldn't make it that high. She gave up, extracted the plastic penis from 
her pussy lips, and she set it aside. "What to do, what to do," she moaned. 
She rolled over onto her belly. Her big bust went squashing down flat in the 
palms of her hands, and her belly lay flat against the bed under her. She 
spread her smooth thighs and tried to conjure up yet another image of lust 
and brutality that might make her body sensuously receptive to the orgasm 
she craved. 

If her sister had walked in right now, Debby would have seen young Sharon 
Pettibone stretched out spread-eagle with her loins open, her bush flying at 
full mast, visible from behind. Her smooth sculpted thighs were split like a 
tree stump, and her busy pussy was wet and juicy. 

"I know," said Sharon, "I'll think about Daddy fucking me up the asshole. 
That's usually good for a little excitement." So she pictured her father's 
big hog sliding up against her smooth thighs. She saw the head of his big 
stiff penis rubbing and grazing alongside her buttocks. Her tight anal 
globes provided a neat landing pad for his firm joint, felt him rubbing 
fresh grease up the crack and do into the asshole cavity. She sensed the way 
he moved that he, like her, was getting hotter and hornier for the final 
fucking. She could feel from the way he spread the lubricant up and down 
between her buttocks that he was getting hot for it, anxious even. She liked 
it that way, too, especially when he went and slid a finger into her asshole 
and pushed it all the way into her bowels. She enjoyed especially the 
rubbing of her buns, too. She liked it when he palmed her two creamy cheeks 
and rolled them in his kneading finger tips. "I like that, Daddy," she told 
her fantasy man. "I like that a lot, Daddy. Please don't stop rubbing my 
cheeks that way." 

He continued to rub her rump. Her fanny turned a bright and iridescent pink. 
Underneath, on her chest, she was getting hot, too. He reached under there 
and discovered her thickened pert nipples. The tips of Sharon Pettibone's 
titties were hot and red. They were stimulated and ready for more rubbing. 
She tried to roll over so that her father could give her a lick or two on 
the tits, but he wouldn't hear of it. He was having too much of a good time 
rubbing his prick between her ass cheeks. "I like it like this, kid. So if 
you want to go rubbing a different way, you'll have to wait a while." He 
smiled and continued to rock back and forth between her buns. He enjoyed the 
smooth sensation of her two ass cheeks sliding against the underside of his 
well-lubricated hog. "Imagine," he told her, "how nice it's going to feel 
when I finally blast off inside your bunghole, baby. You're going to like 
that the best of all!" And he continued to slide between his daughter's two 
ass cheeks. 

That was how Sharon imagined it would be if her father went jamming his 
prick into her rump. Of course, she couldn't concentrate on just her father 
stabbing her up the asshole, so she enjoyed, also, the image of an uncle, on 
her mother's side of the family, spearing her anus. It was Uncle Sid, a nice 
enough fellow who Sharon pictured as having the biggest joint yet. His long 
hard muscle was pre-lubed, so there was no foreplay necessary in this 
particular fantasy. She saw him instantly stroking her anus, rubbing her 
cheeks with his tool. It didn't take long at all, either, for Uncle Sid to 
get to the place where he actually pokes it into her butt-cave. 

"Jesus," she moaned at him with the first stabbing pain, "you have to be 
careful with that thing. You could hurt me with that big magic wand." She 
rolled her butt and lay down flat. She reached down and pulled her two ass 
cheeks apart with her hands. She showed him how much room he had to move in. 
She tried to loosen up in the ass so as to be able to accommodate the full 
and heady breadth of his giant stick. The piece of flesh went piercing down 
into her cavity, filling her up, giving her a stabbing that she didn't think 
she would ever forget. She could feel Sid's huge grinding penis rubbing into 
her bowels, and she knew that this was what she'd wanted from him. She 
didn't dare scream out her anguish even though it was killing her inside. 

"I like fucking you kid," said Sid. "You got a nice little asshole here and 
I like putting my-tool into it. You know what I mean? I like to give the 
inside of your rump a nice going over just to make sure that you get the 
kind of a rubbing that you like. You know what I'm talking about? Now for 
the other side!" And with that, he extracted his yet to be shot rod and 
pulled Sharon, his niece, over onto her back before she could say "This is 
only a dream!" 

Another moment later and he had stabbed his entire thick hog into her 
pussy-hole. The well took him on rather well. She allowed for the thickness 
of the stem at the base, and she spread her loins wide enough to accommodate 
all of the head on the first stroke. The massive organ went penetrating down 
deep, filling up Sharon like she'd never had it before. She bounced upwards 
to take on the thick shaft, and, enjoying the fabulous pole offered by her 
imagination, she began to juice on her fingers quite a lot of real juice. 
"Oooh, fuck, shit, piss," she grunted, "I just love to have a really big 
cock-meat stuffed into my pussy. Nothing makes me feel quite so nice as a 
big stick of cock meat in my cunt. Well, maybe a little prick in my anus or 
a pecker in the mouth-but other than those two things, a cock in the twat is 
EVERYTHING! Absolutely EVERYTHING!" 

She set aside the electric pecker and rested easy in the throes of 
post-orgasmic bliss. 

Chapter 5 Rub Away The Day 

"But Mom," protested Sharon Pettibone as she scratched at her thigh under 
the loose cotton sheet, "I don't want to go to school. I just want to lay 
here and think about things. I want to-" 

"You want to jack off your little clit," interrupted Mrs. Pettibone. "And I 
don't understand why you can't wait until after school, or hurry up and get 
yourself off in the morning before school. You're going to be a sexy 
ignoramus if you're not careful ..." Mrs. Pettibone slammed the bedroom door 
and left her youngest daughter alone. 

"I wonder how she knew," said Sharon. "But I don't honestly give a shit, 
either." She rolled the sheets back. Between her smooth tanned loins was a 
moist heat. Her curly bush showed the soft damp and highly rubbable interior 
of her pussy lips. They were peeled back so that the insides could be seen 
easily. She'd been jacking off her clitoris for some time before her mother 
came in and found her like that. "I wish she would mind her own business," 
whispered Sharon to herself as she started in again. "I just have to get off 
before school, that's all. What's she care, anyhow?" 

She had both hands down around her honey pot. She stroked inwards with a 
long honey finger. The digit found the right location and started sliding 
back and forth, rubbing up the clit just the way she wanted it. "Mmm," she 
hummed, "now that's what I call a good little rubbing." 

She got up out of bed but didn't take her finger out of her pussy. She 
climbed off the bed and went over to the floor length mirror. She spread her 
loins wide and continued to thrust a finger in and out of her juicy twat. 
"So that's what it looks like, eh," she mumbled. She rubbed and tugged on 
her clitoris. "That little twat-penis is getting nice and stiff. That ought 
to be some fun when I get it all the way hot and all." She rolled her finger 
up and down on the firming little pussy pecker. Then she started thinking 
back about something that would make her hotter still. Sharon Pettibone knew 
that more than half of all sex was psychological, and she also knew that if 
she could only think of something that might get the chills going for her, 
up and down her smooth spine, between her legs, across her chest, that then, 
with those psychological chills rolling up and down her body, she would not 
have to work so hard with her fingers on her clitoris in order to get to the 
orgasmic high she craved. She started thinking about something that she 
thought might turn her on. 

Only at first she couldn't come up with the right fantasy. If it was the 
right man, then it wasn't the right place. And if it was the right place, 
well, then, it wasn't the right man. She kept probing her twat while trying 
to get the right combination of people and places. She wanted to make sure 
that she was imagining just the right thing to make her twat juicy and hot 
for sex. Because she wanted to masturbate herself into a perfect orgasm. And 
she wanted to do all of this while standing in front of the mirror. 

But she gave up on the standing part. She sat down on the edge of the bed 
and sighed with relief. "I can still watch myself from here," she noted 
softly. "All I have to do is spread my legs a little more and keep my finger 
going." And that's what little Sharon Pettibone did. She spread her legs and 
wiggled her digit up and down next to her clitoris. 

Sharon especially liked the feel of her clitoris getting erect. She could 
feel it happen. That hot little muscle of stringy flesh got all hard and 
aroused. It stood right up and begged for a rubbing. And that's what Sharon 
gave it. She rolled her fingers across that little thing like it was just 
the most obvious thing in the world to be doing, and like she'd done it a 
thousand and one times before. She squeezed it, pinched it off, flicked it 
up and down, right and left, and worked that little penis of hers until it 
was so hot and so stiff that it couldn't be moved without causing long rows 
of chills to go shooting up her spine and across her smooth tanned young 
belly. "Ahhh, yes," she moaned with every stroke, "I like that a lot." She 
let her mind try and conjure up something that might make her even hotter. 

First she pictured a big hot dick. It was stiff and long and thick. The head 
of the hot penis was wide and much larger, Sharon felt, than the entrance to 
her twat. But she wanted it anyhow. She wanted something that thick and that 
big and fleshy, boney, to come storming into her body. She wanted to stuff 
herself with that thing and make her clit get a good rubbing from it. Of 
course, she couldn't just take a fictitious cock and rub herself with that. 
The big boner had to be attached to a man, to a big man, to a man that 
Sharon would find appealing in every way. That way the boner would get her 
hotter faster. And that, after all, was the object of her mental 
masturbation game. 

She saw the man as blond. He had, like herself, a good tan and good body 
tone. He was, as they say, an all-American. His chest was lean and muscular. 
His stomach was lean and flat. His biceps were big and strong. His shoulders 
were broad, his hair long and neat, his legs thick and his thighs as strong 
as any tennis player Sharon could imagine. She was happy with her fantasy 
man, especially happy with the way she pictured his cock and balls. She was 
so careful in her thinking that she could picture his testicles even, and 
even the hairs on that crotch sack were important to her. 

Sharon saw herself rubbing her fingers across the scrotum of her fantasy 
man. She took his balls in her two hands, in her ten fingers, and rubbed 
them gently back and forth. She handled the two fleshy golf balls like eggs, 
carefully, delicately, tenderly, but she also stimulated them so that the 
man's loins were covered with chills. She rubbed her fingers, her palms, up 
and down between the man's legs, and she made sure also to go for a little 
slide on his back side. She had him turn around so she could do that. 

She asked him if he would bend over. She gave him a name just then. She 
called him Joe. "Joe," she said, "would you mind if I rubbed your ass cheeks 
a little? You'll have to bend over for me to do it. Or lay down." Joe smiled 
and said he wouldn't mind. 

Sharon took to sliding her open palms up and down his creamy white cheeks. 
She rubbed at his buttocks and then used one finger to go for a tickling 
slide between the hefty buns. She reached a hand around the front of Joe's 
body, too. There she held onto his powerful sex organ. She rolled the tool 
from side to side, shifted with it, rubbed it and made it strong. She wanted 
to be sure that he, Joe, got the best treatment possible from her. 

After a little while she leaned forward. She pressed her open lips to Joe's 
right bun. He wasn't one of those men with hairy ass cheeks. He was slippery 
smooth and slick. She licked his buttock and then pressed her mouth to the 
other one. She coated the crack in his cheeks with her tongue, too. She 
wanted to make sure that the man got all the best treatment possible because 
it made her hotter in her cunt to do so. She loved licking him out and 
reaming his anus. 

After she had spread her tongue just about everywhere up and down his cheeks 
she had him turn over again. Now, as she had suggested, they were laying on 
the bed. He showed her his meaty dick and his big balls. It was only natural 
that she go to work on them, too. She spread her tongue out and licked. She 
tickled his testicles with her mouth muscle. She coated them with saliva. 
When his nuts were properly stimulated, she took to working out on his 
boner. She applied her tongue to his meaty hog. She rolled her tongue up and 
down on the sides of the shaft, and she worked the tip of her tongue against 
the tip of his penis. She made sure that the rim, likewise, was properly 
sucked up. This she did by taking the entire head into her face. Inside her 
mouth it was easy for her to get the thing sopping wet and juicy. She 
pressed her tongue flat against it. Then she started to slide. Up and back, 
back and forth, from side to side--she made sure that the entire muscle was 
getting a good blow job, a proper stiff rubbing from her mouth. She attached 
her hand around the thick shaft and rubbed her lips on and off the joint 
several times in a row. It didn't take her long to have that muscle of Joe's 
so thick and so full of hot erection blood that she thought it might just 
explode in her face. When she started thinking like this she changed her 
fantasy because she needed that boner erection to fill her pussy breach. 

"Come on, Joe," she told her man, "I want you to fuck me in the pussy. You 
have a big boner now, so stuff me up good with that thing and make me cum 
nice, eh?" She smiled and readied herself so that Joe could get his huge 
bone meat into her body. She spread out on the bed and gave him a good 
look-see into her hole. "Take a look at that," she commanded him. "Don't you 
just love the shape of my twat-hole? My lips are nice and juicy. My insides 
are dying to gush on your thick boner, baby. All you have to do is screw me. 
All you have to do is go and drill me with that branding iron pecker of 
yours. If you stick it right in me, you'll be able to make yourself the 
happiest man in the world. Don't you know that? Just stick it right on in me 
and make my beaver pie pussy go wild. I want it, Joe. I want that hot stick 
of pecker flesh. I want it in me because I'm one of the horniest wild women 
you're ever going to meet. You know what I mean? I'm the horniest young girl 
you ever did see. I've got my legs spread out for you so you can get that 
hot cock meat of yours into my pussy flesh. Nothing else, Joe, is going to 
make me happy. So what do you say?" 

As in all dreams, Joe said exactly what Sharon Pettibone wanted him to say: 
"Baby, spread that pie out a little more for me. I'm ready to stick you 
good. I'm going to put this big hot fuck rod of mine all the way down the 
throat of that meat pussy of yours. I'm going to turn your sexy insides into 
stew. You're going to be sex soup. You know what I mean? I'm going to take 
this big stiff boner muscle of mine and make you so hot that you'll never 
know what hit you. You ready for that? You ready for one hell of a hot 
fucking, babydoll?" 

He smiled and grabbed her titties with his two hands. He massaged her breast 
flesh, especially the tips of her nipples. She liked that, the way he went 
rubbing that way, the way he kneaded the flesh of her big boobs. "I like the 
way you hold me, Joe. It makes me so damn fucking hot. You know what I mean? 
I like that a lot." She rolled her body up against his. She reached around 
and held onto his slick buns and caressed them. She rubbed a finger lightly 
up and down between the cheeks of his ass. She used her all to get him good 
and hot. She liked the idea of making this man hotter than she was. In fact, 
it made her feel even sexier to work out on his body. She liked rubbing him, 
playing with his genitals, making him as horny as possible. 

"Alright," she said finally, reaching do between her supple loins where his 
stick was rubbing, "it's time." And she took the head of his big hot cock 
meat and pressed it up against the tip of her clitoris. The underside of his 
hot pecker head went sliding against the tip of her clit. She worked her 
hips up and down against his flesh tool. She made sure that his joint was 
angled right so that his pointy muscle went up and down. against her twat 
lips. That was the most important part to her, that his cock muscle get into 
those slippery parts of her cave. She liked that the best. "Mmmmm good," she 
hummed when he finally landed his joint into her the right way, "I like that 
the best, honeybunch. I like that the best of all ..." She rocked up and 
down and climbed the flesh of his tree with her hot pussy lips. Soon she had 
all of his joint down deep inside her body where she could use it to best 
advantage. "Ahhh, yes," she told Joe, still holding onto his buns and still 
rocking up and down to get the fuck up to the highest pitch possible, "it's 
only going to be a minute now, honey. Just one ... minute ... more ... She 
rolled her body weight into his groin and clutched at his buttocks with her 
two hands. She had him stiff and hard inside her. "It's ME CUMING!!" She 
juiced all over his rod (her fingers, really) and came and came and came. 

"Oh, boy," she sighed to herself, finally back in reality, "that was what I 
call a super-fuck. I don't think Lois Lane ever had it that good from Fart 
Man. She rolled her hips to a stop and then landed on her side. "Now," she 
moaned, "if I had to, I could got to school. That was what I needed to get 
me started." She couldn't imagine herself having to traipse off to school 
without something of that sort to get her started. "Mmmm," she hummed, "I 
love masturbation." She looked up at herself in the mirror and saw how 
contented she was. "I just love it because it takes care of all my sexual 
needs." 

She climbed out of bed and made her way into the shower. The house was 
empty. She decided, even before she got out of the shower, that she may as 
well take advantage of the fact that she had the house to herself. She 
scrubbed her lovely little body clean and shiny. Out of the shower, she 
dried herself with a nice soft terrycloth towel. Her skin sparkled and her 
pussy leaked, even though she had cleaned herself completely. Her hot little 
box was just as hungry as it was before her first morning self-abuse. "I 
wonder," she said, smoothing down the goose bumps on her thigh with the 
towel, "if I'll always be this hot." She rubbed her legs with the towel. 

Suddenly, Sharon got so carried away with her own smooth thighs and soft 
skin that she tossed aside the towel and took to using just her two hands to 
rub herself. She rolled her fingers up and down between her legs, in her 
loins. She massaged her own flesh with her ten fingers. She pinched it 
softly and went sliding her fingers up and around her beaver. Her mound came 
to life like a little furry beaver. 

She took one finger and crawled it into place around the place where her 
clitoris was. She rubbed up and down and made her clit hard and erect. She 
used her finger, by stroking in and out, as though it were a dick. She 
pressed further and further into her honey pot until finally she arrived at 
the far back of the canyon where she stroked from side to side with the tip 
of her finger. Her last knuckle was working on the lips while the tip of her 
finger was stretching into the back of the cave. She wanted to get a lot of 
stimulating rubbing done at both places. 

After a moment like this she sat down on the edge of the damp tub. She 
couldn't help herself. The hornies had just overwhelmed her all of a sudden. 
She needed more sexual stimulation than even her mother thought was 
necessary. She went sliding her finger in and out of her pussy pie. After a 
minute a new idea occurred to her. She would use the douche bag and get her 
ass hole into the swing of things. 

She filled the rubber bottle with liquid that was at about the same 
temperature as her body. She put on the stopcock and didn't release it until 
she was comfortably draped over the edge of the tub. Her titties hung into 
the bathtub, her feet were spread out for support on the tile floor, and she 
had her hand reached around behind herself to hold the nozzle in place in 
her sphincter tube. Then she let it all go. 

"Ooooh, God," she grunted as the rubber balloon collapsed and filled her 
back bowels with water. "Oh, God, Jesus, fuck, piss, cunt, suck, asshole, 
whore bitch, crap, Christ, damn, twat, cunt, dick, pecker, prick, penis, 
vagina ..." She let the water out over the toilet while picturing a man 
pumping his big hefty fuck rod in and out of her rear cave until she came 
from both ends at once ... 

After that Sharon took a comfortable enough seat . against the wall of the 
bathroom on the floor. The tile was cold at first, but she folded her naked 
legs up to her chest and pressed her thighs against her titties. She reached 
under the backs of her legs and applied to her pussy lips a smooth and even 
caress with her fingers. She rubbed one digit in and out and pressed another 
against her clitoris. It didn't take her long to commence juicing on her own 
fingers and puddling on the cold tile floor. Of course, she was picturing a 
nice little sex scene to go with her physical masturbation ... 

"You fuck me good, bitch," said Sharon's imaginary man, Gary, "or so help me 
you'll never fuck again." He pointed a gun at her and told her to lay down. 

"You don't need that," she said. "I'll just do it. You don't need that thing 
to make me do it." She laid down in the nude and spread her legs out. "Come 
on," she said, "I want you to fuck me, Gary. It's not rape at all. I like a 
good hot pecker like yours. I want it in me. You don't have to worry about a 
thing. I just want you to fuck me good. I don't have to be raped. Put it in 
me nice and hard." She reached down to play with his meaty hard-on. 

"Wow," he said, watching her fingers slide-up and down on his joint, "you 
sure do know your stuff, kid. If I'd known you could give that nice of a 
hand job, I'd have never jacked myself off before I got here? Ha, ha, ha! 
Ain't that a kick in the ass?" 

"I don't mind if you want to kick me in the ass. In fact I'd kind of like 
it. Why don't you?" she suggested. She rolled into a fetal position. Gary 
stood up. He gave her a light kick with one foot-he was naked all over-and 
she complained: "You're not trying hard enough. Really kick me good. Go on. 
Get me in the butt and in the ribs." He reared back and kicked her hard. 
"Oh, God," she moaned, "yes, harder. Beat me harder. KICK ME. FUCK ME. HIT 
ME AND BEAT ME. MAKE IT GOOD AND HARD. FUCK ME AND KICK ME." He pummeled her 
with his feet and she got hotter and hotter. Had he a whip with him, she'd 
have demanded that he apply it with force to her bare skin. "I want you to 
screw me now," she said. "Come down here and stick that big slab of hot cock 
meat into my vagina and make me cum all over it. That's what I really want." 

He climbed down close to her, spread her legs and slapped his meat into her 
pie. He gave her the whole head and all of the shaft all at once. 
Lubrication was no problem at all. He went sliding into that clit ooze pot 
of hers like he was on roller skates. His joint went slamming into the back 
of her fleshy cave. 

Long smooth wet interior muscles jammed down tight on his joint, rubbed his 
thick muscle and gave him one of the hottest feels he'd ever had. "I like 
that, bitch," he told her. "Yer good, for a cunt, that is. Yer good." He 
pounded his hammering meat in and out of her pie. He ate at her titties with 
his gobbling mouth, just to be sure that every portion of her body was 
properly rubbed and stimulated, and he continued to jack his joint in and 
out of her hole. He wasn't afraid to use his hand around the shaft of his 
muscle or around the back of her body, in her asshole, to make sure that she 
was getting the best feel possible, to make sure that he was getting the 
best lay possible. "Mmmm, good," they both hummed on separate occasions, 
"not bad at all ..." His hammering phallus went sliding in and out of he hot 
little twat hole. "I love it," she told him. "I really do fucking love it." 

A moment later he extracted his rod from her wet pussy lips. He took her two 
smooth hips in his hands. He pressed on one side, lifted on the other, and 
over she went. "Now wait a second," she complained, "I don't know if--" 

But it was much too late for that. He had his cock sliding toward the highly 
desirable little brown hole. The spear head of his meat went jetting 
forward. Along the two cheeks it slid. He applied one hand to her left 
buttock and pulled. The ass flesh, pliant and smooth, folded out of the way. 
Her anus hole was left vulnerable and exposed. Into it he thrust his pecker. 
It took one long stab, one short. He lodged his meat firmly in her smooth 
anal muscle. The tube contracted involuntarily around his rod, squeezing and 
rubbing it up the ecstasy ladder. He lunged into her rump, his spearhead 
leading the way. He hit bowels and she let out a scream: "You fucking mother 
fucker bastard anus loving ass hole. I'll kill you, geek-face. I'll fucking 
kill your balls next time I get a shot at them." 

He wrapped a hand tight around her waist. He slipped a finger into her 
pussy. She scrambled in front of her, looking for something, anything, to 
get a firm bold on. But there was nothing there, just the head of the bed. 
She reached out and took that. She grabbed it tight and her knuckles paled. 
She held on for dear life while Gary's hot hog went pounding, hammering in 
her anal tube. He filled up the thick smooth walled circle of flesh with hot 
penis meat. There was no room left in there for anything else. His big 
mushroom head enjoyed the tight squeezing that Sharon's neat little asshole 
was capable of doing. "Oh, Jesus," she grunted, "I wish--" 

"Make it good," he mumbled, "because I don't want to hear you wish for 
nothin' after this." He shoved her down flat on the bed. Her fingers slid 
loose of the bedboard and down she went, titties and all. He pressed his 
stick all the way into her so that his groin went flat with her buttocks. 
The smooth tapered flesh of her anal entrance pressed around the root of his 
thickened muscle. "Oh, God, oh Jesus, oh my fucking Lord," wailed Sharon 
Pettibone, "I just, I don't, I, oh, fuck, shit, piss ..." She could feel the 
twisting pecker gyrating in her anus and it was driving her wild and crazy 
unleashing all sorts of passions in her rump which she'd never dared to 
imagine existed. "Oh, fuck. Oh, shit! Piss! No! Stop! Please!" 

But it was no good. There was no sense in it. Gary had her. He wasn't going 
to stop now, not after he'd placed his meat so deep inside her body, not 
after he'd penetrated her rear canal all the way down to the oily pit. There 
was no way he would stop. It would take animals with super strength to pull 
him away. 

He slipped his finger up and down on her clit. He knew that if he could get 
her clitoris rolling and rubbed at the right pace she would melt and go 
easily with him the rest of the way. He wanted her to cum, too. Not that it 
really mattered all that much if the woman, Sharon Pettibone, got herself 
satisfied. That wasn't nearly so important, but he knew that it would be 
that much better a fucking for him if she were equally hot and lusty. He 
worked out on her clit meat. He rubbed it into a frothy later. 

"Oh, God," she moaned, "I'm c-c-c-cum-ing! I'm cuming! OH GOD FUCK ..." 

Her asshole muscle started to squeeze on Gary's joint. She rolled her hips 
and her buttocks and her smooth interior muscles contracted right on cue. 
Gary gave way with a sensuous welp. He cried out: "Fucking-A!" and then he 
let loose with his jism. He shot it all forward, into her bowel pit, filling 
her up, giving her a big, sticky puddle of hot juice to deal with. She loved 
that part of it, as did he, the throbbing, the orgasm, the squeezing, the 
climax, the ecstasy of cuming and shooting off that way. Then he pulled his 
meaty spent wand out of her tube and rolled off of her. 

"Baby," he said, "I really do think you're a good fucking kid. You know 
that? You're alright." 

A moment later Sharon Pettibone was back in the reality of her parents' 
bathroom. She was still sitting on the tiled floor next to the back wall. 
She had plenty of juice dripping from her wet twat lips. She was hot and 
frustrated, and she was wondering what she was going to do to satisfy 
herself one last time. She couldn't live with the persistent itch that was 
crawling up and down inside her vagina. She needed something to get in there 
and scratch it, something to give her twat walls a good rubbing. She wanted, 
needed, had to have a real live cock muscle. She decided right then that 
come hell or high water she must go out into the real world fairly soon and 
find for herself a man, a man with a big boner and the will to satisfy. She 
knew that such a man must exist and that his penis rubbing inside her vagina 
would be the only thing that would make her truly sexually happy. 

Chapter 6 Hot Sauce 

But first, before Sharon would go out and find herself a real man, with a 
real cock, she wanted to make sure that she was ready. She knew she was 
ready, actually, but she wanted to make sure that she would be GOOD. She 
didn't want to get into bed with the guy and find out that he didn't like 
her because she didn't know what she was doing. She wanted to make sure that 
she was on an even keel with him, that he didn't know a hell of a lot more 
than she did about the real McCoy. 

To do so, to inform herself, she made a quick stop at her local, 
neighborhood adult bookstore. She walked up and down the isles, wearing her 
shorts and her loose open blouse, looking for the right books, the right 
pictures which would inform her as to the way that real sex is made. She saw 
photos of young men sucking out the insides of lovely young girls and she 
felt her heart skip a beat just from the sight of the stuff. She saw 
pictures of women with their fingers up their pussies and she knew for sure 
that they were having just as good a time at it (even though they were in 
front of a camera) as she had when she was home masturbating. She saw men 
and women eating each other out and she knew that that was going to be one 
of the first things she did after she lost her virginity. Wow, she thought 
to herself, there certainly are a lot of things I'll be able to do once I 
start fucking my brains out! 

She roamed up and down the aisles of the book store. She found for herself a 
cozy enough corner of the store and sat down, crouched, with a book that 
caught her attention. She skimmed through it until she found a picture that 
she especially liked. It was a color photo of a man and a woman embracing. 
The man had his steely wet sword, so hot that it had turned blue, stuffed up 
the woman's spread twat lips. The furry wet beaver hairs were coated with a 
slippery looking ooze. It made Sharon hot just to look at the picture of the 
two naked people. She was tempted, there in the bookstore, to slide her 
fingers down between her soft blonde loins and start to work out on her 
clitoris. It would seem only natural. After all, she was turned on, she had 
the pictures, why not just go ahead and masturbate herself on the floor of 
the adult bookstore. "Oh, God," she murmured, because a particularly erotic 
fantasy had crept into her brain and taken over where her thinking left off. 

A group of men, all of whom wore heavy brown overcoats, pulled at her body. 
One held her arm one way, one held her other arm out to the other side. Two 
more grabbed at her legs. She was naked, of course, and her big smooth 
titties went sliding down along her soft flesh as they flattened her out 
between the racks of dirty books and magazines. They kept her there on the 
dirty scuffed and sticky wet floor, spread-eagle, until their leader 
arrived, a ruffian wearing black leather with silver buttons. He had on 
leather slacks, too, and from outside came the sound of his revving 
motorbike. "Come on, baby," he said, pulling off his leather jacket, "I 
ain't got all day." He took off his sunglasses, smoothed back his duck's ass 
hair cut and climbed down between her smooth spread legs. He filled her twat 
with his chafing pants and rubbing zipper. He was ready to fuck her juicy 
twat. 

"Oh, God, no," she screamed, really not meaning it. "I want to go home. I 
don't want you to fuck me. I don't want ..." She rolled her hips from left 
to right and the hood stuffed her cunt. He gave her the whole thing in one 
big thrust. The bead of his meat pioneered out new spaces. Her sloppy wet 
beaver folded up and open and closed on his joint. Her clit was upright and 
rubbing on the meaty spike. "Jesus, God, FUCK NO SHIT PISS, FUCK, FUCK!" She 
was wailing on his rod. He was sliding in and out of her tube, giving her 
cave the first-class rubbing it deserved. He was wailing up and down inside 
her body, rolling on her hips and pelvis, making sure that her pussy was 
about as hot and lusty as it could be. 

Just as quickly as she had passed into the fantasy, Sharon Pettibone came 
out of it. She caught herself up . She was squatting in the corner of the 
adult bookstore, eyes glazed, twat leaking mildly as she stared at a picture 
of two naked people fucking. She couldn't get over how powerful an hypnotic 
effect the book, the simple picture, had on her body. She wondered if she 
shouldn't buy the thing and take it home with her so that she could always 
get into such a good sexual, sensual, hot mood just by looking at it. She 
went traipsing up and down all the aisles and picked out for herself several 
different pictures, journals, books and magazines, a veritable arsenal of 
pornographic erotica made to get her hot and lusty, made to keep her happy 
on those long and lonely nights when-she was a virgin-there was nothing else 
to do. Her bill at the adult bookstore register came to no less than 
thirty-five dollars. But that included a bottle of lubricant and two 
attachments for her sister Debby's dildo. "Oh, Jesus," she said, marching 
out of the store with her big brown bag clenched tight in her fist, "this is 
going to be some weekend!" 

At home, in the privacy of her bedroom, Sharon stripped down. She made 
herself hot and nude, slick and naked, ready and, when she'd been fingering 
herself for about five or six strokes, very, very horny. She eyed her finger 
as it went sliding to and from the slit in her bush. "Oh, boy," she moaned, 
"this is going to be first rate." 

She had the house to herself because her parents and her sister were away 
for the weekend. Her father and mother had taken the two days to visit with 
relatives in a mountain retreat, and as for Debby, she'd gone with boyfriend 
off to Catalina and wouldn't be back until Monday morning. "Jesus," moaned 
Sharon as she continued to warm up in front of the mirror, "I can't believe 
I'm going to have this whole house to myself for a full seventy hours or 
more. I'm going to get so raunchy, so fucked-up, so debased that Mom and Dad 
and Debby won't even recognize me when they get back." She drew a chair up 
close to the mirror and straddled it with her thighs. She sat backwards on 
the thing, her legs dangling on the sides. She reached between the slats of 
the back of the chair in order to get to her gash. Finding her clitoris 
upright and ready, she took to stroking it. Up and down went her nimble 
fingers, from side to side and back again. She spared herself nothing. She 
took her time, too, waving the clit meat up and down, making sure that every 
little portion of its rubbery wet surface was properly stimulated. "Oh, 
Jesus," she mumbled to herself, "I'm going to be awfully hot pretty soon. I 
sure do hope that I remember to do everything according to plan." 

According to plan, of course, included some very bizarre auto-erotic 
methods. For one thing, before she'd trotted off to the adult bookstore, 
Sharon had prepared a bowl of fresh chocolate pudding. She wanted to be sure 
and have something nice and sticky to make herself gushy with. She wanted to 
feel her fingers coated with the thick stuff and rubbing up and down on her 
twat lips. 

Now, as she heated up in front of the mirror, she decided to go and use some 
of the pudding. She got up from her seat in the bedroom and with her titties 
bouncing every which way she went to the kitchen and tested out the pudding. 
It was just the right temperature, and very tasty, too. She spread herself 
out on the kitchen floor with the bowl of pudding alongside her. She reached 
in and took a big helping of the stuff and rubbed it into her loins. Then 
she slowly but surely worked it into her pie. "Oh, God," she said, feeling 
the oozing hot stuff as it went to work between her twat lips, "that's going 
to be awfully fucking nice." 

She couldn't help but close her eyes, lift her legs, and pretend that there 
was a man down there between her loins, and she pictured him rubbing his 
tongue up and down across her twat lips, eating out her pie, her chocolate 
pudding flesh dish. He rubbed his tongue up and down on her sweet thick 
labia and he ate up and swallowed the mixture of juice and pudding. "Mmmm, 
good," he hummed up to the pretty teenager. "I like the taste of your fresh 
goo, my little darling. It's very, very nice." He licked and gobbled at the 
chocolate ooze until he'd cleaned her lips of the sticky pussy. Only the 
bare oily twat lips remained, and they were clean and juicy, ready for 
tongue rubbing. "I think I'll just keep right on eating you, little 
darling," said the man between Sharon's legs, his long tongue rolling up and 
down on her meaty little pie. "You don't mind if I get myself another 
serving or two of that pussy flesh of yours, do you?" 

"I like it when you eat me," she said softly to herself. "I like it a lot. I 
really do." She rolled her hips up and down in his face. She gave him her 
spread cunt for his tongue. "Go deep," she ordered him. "Go on in deep.." 

He smiled to himself and speared the teenage twat with his long wet tongue. 
He filled the breach with mouth muscle. His pink oral device went sliding up 
and down against her long clitoris. The thickened spear of pussy flesh 
enjoyed the twisting and wrestling that the man was willing to give with his 
tongue. It was a very long and very horny eat out session for them both. 

"Oh, God, Mamma," moaned young Sharon Pettibone, coming to her senses on the 
kitchen floor. She had spread chocolate goo everywhere, up and down her 
slick thighs, between her supple loins, across her soft, oily twat lips. 
There was even some of the pudding inside her vagina, filling her slit. "I 
better clean up a little before going on to stage two," she whispered to 
herself. 

Sharon picked herself up without leaving behind too much of a mess on the 
kitchen floor. There were only a couple of puddles, one of clit juice, one 
of chocolate pudding. She figured that she would take care of that later, 
after she'd spent herself sexually. For right now there was plenty more 
self-abuse to attend to. 

She made her way into the shower. She still had the bowl of pudding with 
her. There was a little of the chocolate stuff left in it. She took that and 
for some reason spread it into her arm pits. She lifted one arm and put the 
chocolate mess into the hollow beneath her upper arm and alongside her rib 
cage, and, enjoying the feeling, decided to do the same for the other arm 
pit. After all, she reasoned, she was in the shower, and she could always 
wash it all off. 

But no sooner had she applied the goo when the phone began to ring. She 
didn't know what to do, to stand there and wait for it to stop ringing, to 
wipe off the chocolate on her arm pits and her rib cage, or what. Finally, a 
bit frantic, goo dripping from her pits and her rib cage, she rushed into 
the bedroom, her parents room where the closest phone extension was, and 
answered the ringing. 

It was Davey, a young friend of hers, a nice boy from school who she had on 
occasion imagined herself fucking. "Gee, Davey," she began, thinking that 
she might tell him to call back, but she couldn't finish her sentence. He 
was excited about something, and he just had to tell her about it right 
then. She let him go on. But to make the conversation enjoyable for herself, 
she spread out her parents bed sheets, pulled back the blankets and linen, 
and climbed down onto the bed. She spread her legs and laid down, her head 
against the pillow. She listened to Davey explain about some movie he had 
seen, one called Tirez Sur Le Pianigte by a French film maker named 
Truffaut. While she listened to the excited young man, she had no doubt that 
the film was good, but she grew bored with his description of the action. 
Rather than find herself going sexually down, she decided to take advantage 
of the moment, to turn it into something nice for herself. She reached down 
between her spread loins with the hook of the phone and rubbed the solid 
round plastic earpiece up and down next to her spread and oozing twat lips. 
She jacked herself off with the earpiece of the phone. Whenever there was a 
lull in the little cackle coming out of the phone, Sharon picked it up to 
her ear and said, "Mm-mm," or "Oh, yes," or "I see," and then, when Davey 
began to speak again, she put the phone back between her comely loins and 
continued to rub up and down against her heated clitoris and hot little 
labia. Finally, at one point, when she became so turned on that she couldn't 
stand it anymore, and when she was breathing like a cyclone and unable to 
control her emotions--her hips swiveled up and down, her pussy was nearly 
clapping with excitement--she put the phone aside and replaced it with 
fingers. She rubbed up and down on her twitching clitoris. 

She was nearly there, nearly over the top of the Mount Orgasm when she heard 
this terrible shrieking coming from the phone. She'd forgotten about young 
Davey. She picked up the phone and breathed heavily into it. "Are you 
alright?" asked Davey. "Sharon? Are you o.k.? I was worried there for a 
minute that some stranglers or something came into your bedroom and killed 
you or something! That you were being raped or something! Are you o.k.?" 

"I'm fine, Davey," she said, "but I really do have to go now." She didn't 
wait for him to say anything else. She hung up the phone and sighed in 
relief. "Oh, God," she moaned to herself, "I have to get off. I just have to 
get myself fucking off ..." 

She climbed out of her parents bed and went back to the shower. She'd 
temporarily forgotten about the chocolate pudding under her arms. But now it 
was hot and runny, and it felt good for her to spread it around on her body. 
She took some of it and rubbed it into her chest. She used it to lubricate 
her titties, to stimulate her nipples and make her breasts stimulated and 
horny. "Oh, fuck," she mumbled from time to time. Or, "Oh, Jesus, I'm going 
to cum if it kills me." She worked the chocolate up and down her excited 
belly and tits. Finally, she rubbed it into the tops of her thighs and sat 
down with her legs spread in the tub. "Now," she said, "now I'm going to 
really get off ..." 

She reached over the side of the tub and picked up an electric dildo, her 
sister's latest. It was already plugged into the wall. It had five speeds 
and several attachments in addition to those which Sharon had purchased at 
her neighborhood bookstore. She put the machine on position number three and 
set her body to quaking and chilling. "Oh, Jesus," she grunted, "I sure do 
like the feel of that thing going on my body that way." She had the nozzle, 
the vibrating tip, of the machine up against her clit and her labia lips. 
The thing shook and made her body alive with the chills. She was especially 
hot, especially horny, and her mind couldn't help but begin to conjure up 
wonderful fuck images. 

Sharon saw herself being pulled wide open. Rope bonds yanked at her pretty 
ankles and spread her legs. Leather bracelets pulled her arms apart. She was 
on a flat board and her entire supple body was being spread out and made 
ready for whatever fucking and sucking and beating and gushing her captors 
had in mind for her. They pulled her open. She was entirely vulnerable. 
There was the smell of goats and horses from nearby. She knew that she was 
going to be mercilessly attacked and fucked. She screamed and swore at her 
captors but it made no difference. 

Suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, there appeared a man dressed like 
Spartacus. His big thick thighs, his bulging biceps, his demeanor all 
suggested wrath and disregard for things sensitive. He was going to fuck the 
shit out of her. He was going to jam his cock up her twat, and not let her 
go until she bled. He was going to ram his fingers up her asshole and make 
her anus into a spittoon. He was going to defile her body in every way 
imaginable. She wondered if she would ever recover. 

The board on which she was strapped tilted upwards. Her loins rushed and 
blushed with the blood which poured down into her pelvis. She was tipped so 
that the heathen man could mount her, fuck her, rape her open wound and make 
her cum. She, of course, had no say in the defilement and rape. Her 
plaintive cries went unheeded. No matter how she tried to get the attention 
of the other people around, it didn't help. She screamed and swore. She 
yelled and hollered. They hooted back at her, laughed and humiliated her 
every word. She didn't have a chance. 

The big man mounted her. He had his leather chaps off, his whip was put 
aside. What he carried now was his big flesh sword. And he carried it up to 
the flesh gates between Sharon Pettibone's open vulnerable loins. Her crotch 
ached for it, but she denies that face. She wanted the big thick meat inside 
her, but she didn't dare say so. She wanted to feel the head of that 
mushroom hog rubbing and sliding on her pussy, but she didn't want to admit 
it. 

He entered her in one long stab. He jabbed his hefty pole into her fleshy 
socket. He rubbed and pushed on her twat button. He jacked her up and down 
with his thick spear. She screamed out at the delicious pain in her pussy. 
She loved a penis in her cunt, especially a brutalizing, lusty one. She 
craved for more of it, and had her hands not been pinned to the board on 
which her body was stretched out and tied down spread-eagle, she'd have 
wrapped her hands around her attacker's fanny and pulled him down closer, 
hotter, tighter into her loins and her groin until his meaty pecker climbed 
out of her body through her throat. She loved it that much. 

She extracted the big electric phallus from the inside of her pussy. She 
took the machine by the big brassy handle and lay it temporarily aside. She 
took a douche bag, handily hanging above her head alongside the shower 
curtain, and she filled it with fresh water. She spread with her fingers her 
twat lips and jabbed the nozzle end of the bag into her twat. She flushed 
out the residue of chocolate pudding and crud. She pulled the mechanical 
hose out of her body and let the excess cleansing liquid drain from her 
hole. "There," she mumbled, "I have to be clean for the final fucking. It 
wouldn't be good to go to the heavenly Gods not clean ..." 

She lay back down and picked up the electric cock again. She pushed the 
machine into her pussy lips. They spread to accommodate the thick pecker 
device. She switched the machine on high, to the sharpest and fastest 
contour, and it started up, shaking Sharon's insides, making her hot all 
over again. "Oh, God, yes," she moaned, and it only took her a second or two 
more to conjure up a fantasy of herself and Davey screwing their brains out. 
From there she went on to picture herself with her father. Then she saw Mr. 
and Mrs. Pettibone doing their thing. They were rubbing up and down against 
each other and preparing for the BIG FUCK! Finally, Sharon saw herself with 
a young man a little older than she. 

He was a big fellow, and so that she could call him something in her day 
dream while she masturbated, she nicknamed him Henry. "Henry," she pleaded 
when she saw the size of his huge boner, "you can't put that big thing 
inside me. It's too fucking large." 

Henry smiled. He spread his legs apart and took the stance customary just 
before doing jumping jacks. In his hand was a bottle of oil. "With this 
stuff here, baby," he told Sharon Pettibone, "I can do just about anything 
at all. Eh?" He opened the bottle of lube juice and poured it out into his 
palms. He poured all of the oil out onto his hands, and then, when it 
started overflowing, he spilled the extra onto Sharon's loins and pelvis. 
"Oh, God," she cried out, "it sure is oily." 

"It's for cooking," he said simply, rubbing his two hands together. "And 
we're going to be doing some nice greasy frying. What could be better, eh?" 
He laughed and spread the grease along his large fat tumescence. "Mmm," he 
said, feeling his own slick bony dick with the oil, "doesn't that feel nice? 
Nice and greasy and all?" He watched Sharon looking at him. "What are you 
staring at bitch? Would you rather I just jammed it up in your twat without 
any juice at all? Maybe you'd like that? A dry spear in your cunt? Something 
for you to rotate on? Eh? Well, stop staring then!" He continued to rub his 
cock with his greasy hands. 

"I'll put some on me, too," said Sharon, reaching down to where the oil had 
spilled. "You want it all over me?" 

"All over you," repeated Henry. "That way we'll know for sure what it feels 
like to be fucking like greased pigs. Eh?" He laughed and chortled and then 
he got down on his hands and knees, next to Sharon, and he spread her legs 
out and prepared to mount her. "You get that little greased pie of yours 
ready, honey, because Henry's gonna fuck your brains out! We're gonna go for 
a friendly little screwing that you won't be likely to forget! Ha, ha, ha. 
No sireee. You won't be forgetting it when Henry fucks your twat. You 
certainly won't." 

He reached between her legs and spread her pussy lips. Her cunt cave was 
v-shaped and lubed with plenty of oil. There were matted hairs here and 
there, but they were all on the outside, on her mound. He pushed her down 
flat on her back and rubbed up and down between her thighs. He wanted to 
make sure, as he entered her pussy, that she was not only greasy but hot for 
it. He wanted her insides simmering with juice, like a frying pan waiting 
for the meat to be added. "Mmmm, good," he said, "yer getting there, honey. 
I can tell. Yer getting there nice and fast. It's gonna be good, too." He 
slapped a finger into her pussy and tested her out just to be sure. He 
lifted the finger from her snatch and licked it with his tongue. "OK, yeah, 
you're hot and tasty, babydoll. Just the way you ought to be when Henry's 
gonna fuck you ..." And with that he laid down flat and speared her cunt 
hole with his jumbo pecker. 

"Oooh, God, no!" cried Sharon Pettibone. "It's too much. Go slow. Please. 
You have to go easy." She lifted her thighs in order to relieve the terrific 
pressure of Henry's large fat phallus in her body's small front cave. "It's 
too fucking much," she hollered at him. "You have to slow down. Oh, NO. NO, 
NO, NO!!!" 

But Henry had no intention of stopping. If she had told him that there was a 
big rattlesnake inside her twat it would have made no difference to him. If 
she had warned him that the inside of her pussy contained piranha fish, he 
would have continued on his deep sea mission. If she had mentioned that just 
the other day her father explained to her that she had congenital syphilis 
and that her twat was rotting with leprosy and that any man's pecker who 
touched her would fall off--still Henry would have persisted in fucking 
Sharon's juicy little pie. There was plainly no stopping him this time. 

"Oh, God, please," she begged. She writhed in pain as the huge fuck-stick 
rolled up and down inside her fleshy little tube. It was nice and tight in 
there, like a satin glove lined with fresh soft flesh and juice. It was hot 
and moist too. It was. everything that Henry could have asked for, and the 
feel of Sharon bouncing, wriggling under him, squirming and aching with his 
powerful joint in her body, made him even more excited. "I love it," he 
whispered in her ear. "I really do love it." 

Finally, Sharon gave in. She accepted the fact that there was no getting 
away from the greased prick which tacked her down tight. There was no 
escaping the hot muscle bursting with fire in her body. She could not get 
away from the throbbing pole twisting her twat inside out. She reached up 
and around Henry's neck and held him down tight, close to her big mammaries. 
She filled his face with her tongue, Frenched him, and she let her hands 
slide down to his bouncing buttocks. She squeezed his buns and pulled him 
into her loins. His meaty sword went even deeper inside her hot dark wet 
cave, all the way to the back where the mushroom head rubbed and slid 
against the softest flesh of her body, nearly in her womb ... 

But then, just as suddenly as he'd poked himself into that fleshy land of 
ecstasy, he poked himself out. He pulled that meat stick of his out of her 
tube of flesh and rolled her over onto her belly. She screamed and hollered 
like it meant something to her, but really it didn't. She didn't care any 
more about anything, and the only thing that mattered to her was that the 
fucking be over and done with. She let him split her buns, then, and she let 
him roll her hips up softly against the underside of his oiled penis. And 
she let him enter her lubricated sphincter as if she were allowing him a cup 
of tea. It was all the same to her. 

She opened up her bunghole tube and gave him .access to whatever he wanted. 
Her nubile teenage flesh spread out easy and soft, like melted butter, and 
young tough Henry took a slice of the prettiest ass he'd ever been privy to 
feel. He rubbed his long stick down that alley, into the core of Sharon 
Pettibone's rump, and he stuck her up good, all the way into her buns' hot 
bowel flesh. There was just no way to stop that man from giving young Sharon 
a hot anal branding. 

And as if that weren't enough, once he'd shot off inside that weren't 
enough, once he'd shot off inside that asshole tube of hers, once he'd 
stretched out that tapered sphincter entrance, and once he'd taken hold of 
her titties at the same time and twisted them black and blue, he made that 
girl get down on his hog and lick him clean. It was all over when he saw 
that his boner was as fresh and shiny as new. And not before. 

"Jesus," moaned Sharon, washing out her mouth when it was done, "I never 
knew a man to be so stubborn about getting himself cleaned afterwards. It 
just isn't natural like that. Most guys want to go to sleep. You, you wanted 
to have more licking than a blow job." 

"That's right," said Henry. "Don't you forget it, little darling. Don't you 
ever forget it. And by the way, did you get yourself a little orgasm out of 
that fuck?" 

"Not really," she said, reaching down towards her twat lips and sliding a 
finger between them so she could get herself nice and open. "But I sure 
wouldn't mind if you insisted on finishing me off one more time ..." 

He smiled and said: "Not right now. Maybe another time." 

Henry disappeared as quickly as he'd shown up. He was after all merely a 
part of Sharon Pettibone's exaggerated imagination. She found herself 
sitting with her legs spread and with one list coiled around the magic 
electric cock. "Oh, fuck," she said, "what have I been doing?" She picked 
herself up and put the machine aside. She turned it off and looked at her 
face in the bathroom mirror. She was hot and flushed. "Oh, gee," she said, 
"I think I better take a little rest and then get back to this. I look so 
wasted and ..." 

She showered and dried herself off in the living room. She spread out on the 
living room carpet and didn't wake up until late that night. And when she 
did, she once again felt that old familiar crave, that crazy drive inside 
her pussy. She was so horny she couldn't stand it. 

Chapter 7 Ruby Lips 

It was Saturday night and the horny itch was getting worse. Sharon needed to 
do something to get rid of it. She paced the living room floor naked. Her 
smooth thighs and wet twat lips were open and scenting the room with her 
sweet smell. 

"Gosh," she grumbled, "I wish I could get a real cock right now. A really 
big prick in my little twat would make me so happy." She looked down between 
her legs. Her delightful little hole was open and ready. "I think I better 
spend some time jacking myself off," she added, "or I'll never be able to 
get to sleep tonight." She turned on the t.v. just in case her wailing got 
so loud that some one of her neighbors might hear. She didn't want anyone to 
know how very horny and lusty she really was. 

In the bathroom she arranged a few photos, pictures of people fucking or 
sucking each other off. There was one photo of a guy sticking a pencil up a 
girl's twat. Only it was a big thick artificial pencil, a prop, and he was 
probing her hard with it. Another photo showed a girl getting shit upon. A 
man squatted over her face and a big turd hung from his ass onto her 
forehead. It was curling into a pile there and would eventually stack up 
over all of her face. 

"Jesus," thought young Sharon Pettibone, "I wonder what that feels like. I 
wonder what it feels like to be debased so low that it hurts ..." 

She went thumbing through some of the other photos. One showed a man sitting 
on a woman's face so that she could tongue his balls. Her long, 
out-stretched mouth muscle reached up into his scrotum and licked. If he 
leaned slightly forward, he would have her tongue in his anus. As it was he 
was leaning down with his palms open and spread around her titties. He had a 
look of total contentment on his face, and yet he was also looking toward 
the young woman's pussy with a kind of curious expression across his lips. 
Perhaps he was contemplating getting into her pie with his tongue. 

After perusing several of the photos, Sharon set a few of the better ones 
around her. That way she could look at them whenever she wanted, whenever 
she needed, and the various photos would fuel her fantasies of total sexual 
ecstasy. Once the pictures were set up she spread herself out on the edge of 
the tub. She wanted to give her pussy a little scrubbing before she did 
anything else. She wanted to make sure that her clitoris was nice and erect 
and wet and greasy before going on to make herself super hot. 

She did this by tweaking her clit. She rubbed it up and down with two 
fingers. She pinched it off and teased it by sliding it back and forth upon 
itself. It didn't take her long at all to get super hot and very erect. Her 
inside twat button was about as turned on as could be. "Jesus," she grunted, 
"sometimes I think that ..." She couldn't even complete her sentence. She 
just didn't realize how horny and lusty her gash was. She spread her loins 
wide, heels out on the bathroom tile, and finger fucked herself severely. In 
and out sloshed her long digit, always rubbing against her clit, always 
making sure to keep the lips spread, the juice flowing. "I like a good rub," 
she moaned aloud, "Oh, boy oh boy do I ever like a good rub?" She finally 
pulled her fingers out of her twat and reminded herself that she had better 
get to using some of her new tools. 

She got up from her position on the end of the bathtub and went directly to 
the kitchen. She took out of the refrigerator a hot dog which she'd frozen 
the day before. The feel of the cold phallus in her hands made her shiver, 
and the thought of it rubbing in her cunt made her quake. She was so hot 
that she couldn't wait for the thing to heat up. She closed the refrigerator 
door and leaned her naked back against it. She took the hot dog and lifted 
one loin so that she could place the meaty pecker up inside her hole She 
shoved hard. Up it went, all the way inside. 

"Oh," she squeaked. "Oh, God!" She held it there, though, and made herself 
with it. She rubbed up and down until it heated to a tender ninety-eight 
point six. "Mmmm," she bummed then, "that's a little more like it. I like it 
like that." 

She let herself slide down along the refrigerator door into a flesh puddle 
on the kitchen floor. There she spread her smooth loins and rubbed the hot 
dog in and out of her hole. She worked it tight up against her clit and made 
a mental note that it felt especially good that way. Then she went sliding 
the thick knockwurst wiener along the sides of her twat. It worked there, 
too, but it wasn't as effective as when she hit her clitoris with it. 
Finally, she stuffed the whole meaty thing into her twat and let go of it. 

She quickly found that if she lay down spread-eagle on the kitchen floor, 
belly down, titties rolling on the linoleum, that even without her hands 
holding onto the big hot dog, it did quite a job of rubbing on her twat 
button. So what she did was lay flat out on the floor. She pretended she was 
in water and did a frog stroke on the linoleum. As a result the hot dog went 
sliding up and down inside her cave. There she was, a young beautiful blonde 
getting her jollies by rubbing her titties and her belly and her loins on 
the kitchen floor. It was almost as sexy for her as the thought of having a 
dog. She really would have enjoyed that as much. 

After a moment or two of the frog stroke, Sharon sat up and breathlessly 
removed the scrap of knockwurst from her heated, juicing cunt hole. The 
thing came out a little gnarled, but for the most part it was in one piece. 
Sharon, of course, was about ten times hotter and hornier than when she 
began. "I got to get that dildo into my cave," she moaned, "or I'm going to 
be in a lot of trouble." What she meant by trouble was that she wouldn't be 
able to rest until she got over the orgasm hill. "Jesus," she grumbled on 
her way to her bedroom, "I sure do hope that machine can do the job on me." 

She plugged the plastic and metal phallus into the bedroom wall outlet. She 
tried it out while she was standing. The tubular beater on the front end of 
the thing twirled righteously. "Ah, yes," she cooed when she saw how nice it 
was spinning, "that thing there is going to do just right. I need it right 
now." She spread her legs and pushed it up next to her pussy. Sure enough, 
just one feel of the twisting, twitching knob set her little clit to shaking 
and gyrating. She swung her hips up and down and slowly but surely worked 
the nozzle up high inside her cunt. "Now," she grunted, "we're getting 
somewhere." 

Sharon was able to use the machine with one hand. She could manipulate it at 
the right angles and get it going at the right places in her pussy without 
having to use both hands at once. So, with her right free hand, she took to 
rubbing down her big hot titties. She took one breast at a time and gave 
herself a good going over. 

She would begin with the nipple. One nipple would get a little teasing and a 
little rubbing. Then the other would get a slide from her palm. She would 
return to the first breast, there to squeeze and knead. Finally, when both 
boobs were full of heat and passion, when both large mammaries had turned to 
cherry red, Sharon took them both in one hand-as much, that is, of the two 
mammoth titties as she could get into one hand-and pushed them together 
against each other. 

"Ahhh, ohhhh, yessss, gooooood," she grunted as she stroked her twat with 
the electric penis and pressed her two tits with her hand, "this is the way 
to get hot, alright. This is just the way to do it." 

She took a moment to lay down. On her bed, with her legs spread, with her 
knees bent, on her back, she pressed the hefty mechanized pussy-rub device 
back into her hole. She worked it up and down against her clit and made sure 
that the back of her cave, as well as the front, got a good solid stroking. 
It didn't take her long at all to get to juicing. Of course, it wasn't the 
all-powerful, all-ecstasy-creating juicing of orgasm, but it was certainly 
just a step or two away. She liked that feeling and worked to make herself 
feel more of the same. 

"Jesus," she groaned, closing her eyes, "I can't believe it." What Sharon 
Pettibone couldn't believe was the incredible fantasy that was rolling 
across her brain. She could see couples, dozens of them, sucking and fucking 
in a pile of blissful flesh. She could see husbands going down on wives, and 
she could see men sucking out their wives' assholes. She could see women 
getting their cherries popped, and she could see young girls, twelve year 
olds, sliding their hands up and down the boners of old men. She especially 
liked this latter image, and when she first came across it she decided to 
take her time with it, to make it into something that would get her even 
hornier. 

She pictured herself as twelve years old. She was sitting at a bus stop. Her 
little skirt was up around her thighs. It showed off her smooth young loins. 
She had only the smallest titties, but already they were beginning to show 
tell-tale signs of a warm heart: they were always pert, always stiff and 
up-right and ready for action. She was sitting with her legs slightly spread 
on the bus stop with her little feet hanging over the edge of the bench. 
Along came a car and out of the passenger window leaned a grizzly face, an 
acned, bristly man with a strange voice. He was asking her if she wanted a 
ride. She smiled brightly at him, but she declined his offer. 

A moment later the man had circled the block, had parked his car out of 
sight, and he'd approached the bench. "Come on," he said, and he took the 
younger Sharon Pettibone by the wrist. She tried to wiggle free, but it was 
of no use. He had her tight and he dragged her off to his car. He stuffed 
her into the back seat. 

She flashed and a moment later they were on the ground high up above the 
city. It was a cliff side view and down below was nothing but a fatal sheer 
edge. She didn't dare try to run. The older man pulled her down on the 
ground and pulled her skirt from around her hips. He ripped it in order to 
get it off. He pulled at her blouse, next, and off it came. She was left 
wearing only panties and a bra. She could see in his pants the obvious 
bulge, the indicator of what was going to happen. 

"No, no, no," protested the little girl, but she knew it was hopeless. The 
old pervert was going to rub his cock up and down all over her body, and he 
might even make her touch it with her tongue. Soon enough he would have his 
pants off and she would know for sure what filthy things he was going to 
make her do. 

He undid his belt. She thought of jumping over the edge of the cliff. That 
would show the man that he should not pick on such small children as 
herself. But where would she be? Dead at the bottom of some gully, her body 
not to be found for several days, rotting in a ditch with her neck broken. 
She decided not to jump. But the longer she waited the closer he came. He 
had his underwear off now, and his big boner was, pressing at her. She would 
either have to jump or submit. She started to jump. He grabbed her and said: 
"Afterwards you can do anything you want, little girl, but right now you are 
my prisoner and you will do what I tell you to do." He pulled her down on 
the ground, on the dusty ground where he pulled off her little panties and 
her training bra. 

He began by pressing his meat against her spindly legs. He worked his thick 
hog up and down her lean thighs. He made sure that the underside of his 
sweaty penis got a good workout. He took her little hands in his own clammy 
fingers and pressed her hands down on the dirt. He had her spread out so 
that she couldn't move very easily. He then took to touching her pussy with 
the head of his meat. 

"Alright," he said after a stroke or two, "I want you to lick me. If you 
don't, I'll break your fingers one by one. You understand, little girl?" 

"Yes," she nodded, "I understand." She blushed because she had dreamt from 
time to time, even as a child, about sucking on her father's meat. It wasn't 
the same to be forced, but it was similar. She looked at his big joint and 
especially at the heart-shaped tip. "Alright," he said, "you can begin." 

She leaned down and licked the tip of his penis. Her tongue had never before 
tasted cock muscle. She wondered what it would feel like. She pressed her 
outstretched mouth organ against his prick. At first she did it only 
lightly. But he told her she had to do it harder. In a way she kind of hoped 
that he would say that. That way she could find out what it was all about. 
"I think you want to do it just as much as I want you to do it," said the 
horny old man. "Just go on and help yourself." He held her by the neck and 
pressed her face and open mouth against his big juicy boner of hog meat. "Go 
on and do it hard with your tongue, Sharon. I think you'll like it." 

She rubbed her tongue up and down his thick meat. She worked her mouth 
muscle under his dick stick, too. She rode the stiff ridge with her tip, and 
then she went and sucked on the thick root. She used her spread lips and 
open mouth to get a good kissing suck-hold on that meaty rod of his, and she 
had no intention of stopping until he told her she could. He kept her head 
down there in his crotch for a full fifteen minutes, and still the lecherous 
old man hadn't had enough. She breathed around his cock shaft until finally 
he said that she could come up and get ready for the fucking. 

"Oh, God," she moaned at him, "I never did that. Won't you please not make 
me? Please? PLEASE?!?" 

"You never gave a blow-job, either," said the old stranger. "But you seemed 
to enjoy that a great deal." He pushed her out flat on her back and spread 
her little legs. "I want to get that twat of yours all full of my penis 
meat. Once I have my erection inside that little tube of yours, then you can 
tell me if you really don't want to do it, eh?" 

He leaned down, though, and put his tongue there first. He pressed his long 
splayed mouth muscle up against her little clitoris and her thin little 
labia leaves. "Oh, God," he drooled, "I really do like the looks- of your 
pretty little pussy, my dear. It's delicious. I'm going to ravish your body 
because you have so nice a twat ..." He continued to eat out the twelve year 
old little girl's hot little pussy slot. He really enjoyed licking her up 
like that, and Sharon Pettibone couldn't honestly say that she didn't like 
the feel of that big old tongue rubbing and sliding against her inside lips 
the way it was ... and to show him that she felt that way, she spread her 
splendid, thin little legs and lifted them up so that the old man could get 
his hot wet phallic-like mouth muscle into just about every nook and cranny 
of her pussy. He rubbed at her lips, at her clit, at the creases inside, at 
the folds around the mound. He took to licking and slopping, even, at her 
asshole which was also available. It was clean and fresh, the entrance tight 
and tapered. He enjoyed sliding his mouth muscle up and down between the 
child's legs almost as much as she had begun to enjoy having it done. 

"Oh, God, Mister," she moaned, "I think something's happening." 

"Of course something is happening," he said back between long licks. "You're 
getting nice and hot and juicy. That's what's happening." He reached up 
along her smooth little stomach and up to the little nubs of developing 
breast flesh. "Look at those teats of yours. They're up and willing to go. 
This nice smooth stomach of yours--it's good and flat and hot for rubbing. 
And your wet little ass hole? It's practically begging for a good little 
finger rubbing! Of course things are happening: I'm the Marquis De Dover 
City, and I'll be giving you all the rubbing and sucking and eating and 
screwing that any twelve year old little girl ever did get!" 

It was then that young Sharon Pettibone, not twelve year old Sharon as in 
the fantasy, but the teenager who had been imagining herself--it was just 
then that she came slightly to her numbed senses. "Oh, God," she hummed, 
"I've become so depraved. So debauched. And? And I love it!" She took the 
twisting dildo out of her pussy and set it aside. She turned around and 
started licking her arm. She was crazed with lust. She nibbled at her own 
fingers, licked between her digits. She was crazed with lust. She nibbled at 
her own fingers, licked between her digits. She went sliding her tongue up 
and down on her knuckles. She washed her finger tips by sucking them off in 
her own pursed lips. She stuck one finger up her ass hole and then put it 
between her lips and sucked harder than ever before, She took the same 
finger and slid it along her pussy lips and then rubbed it into her nostril. 
She had no idea what she was doing. She could feel heat coming out of her 
twat, but she didn't know what it was. She retrieved the dildo and continued 
sliding it back and forth on her twat lips. She felt her body become 
electric, super-charged and chilled. Goosebumps climbed her belly and 
wrapped their way around her firmed breasts and hot sprung nipples. She was 
ecstatic with self-abuse and abandon. She pushed the mechanical prick down 
deep between her pussy leaves and felt herself begin to gush. It didn't stop 
for a full fifteen minutes. 

Chapter 8 Finger-Fucking Good 

When Mr. and Mrs. Pettibone arrived home on Sunday evening, they found their 
house pretty much as Sharon had left it after no less than five sessions of 
extraordinary self-abuse. On the livingroom sofa was a stain, a splotch, the 
size of a watermelon. In the kitchen was the odor of clit juice. Those two 
rooms, in fact, smelled like a French whore house after six weeks of 
defilement. The refrigerator door was open, the food stank. The t.v. was on 
and blaring, as was the new stereo system. The throw rugs were disheveled 
and tossed here and there on furniture. 

As for their bedroom, Mr. and Mrs. Pettibone couldn't believe their eyes. 
They discovered their daughter Sharon sprawled out nude with a dildo still 
vibrating, laying by her side. From her twat leaked a trickle of juice, and 
in her left hand was a puddle of melted lime jello. The sheets to her left 
were stained with chocolate pudding. The phone was off the hook and the 
bedspread was tossed halfway out the window. Sharon was half-conscious. "Hi 
Mom, hi Dad," she mumbled, and she flicked the machine off. "I guess I fell 
asleep." 

The next morning Mr. Pettibone escorted his daughter to a clinical 
psychologist who gave Sharon both a physical and mental examination. He 
found nothing wrong with her physically, but he was rather concerned about 
her sexual attitudes and fantasies: "I don't quite understand," said Dr. 
Rooker, "how it is that you are so interested in masturbating yourself, Ms. 
Pettibone." 

"Either that or getting it for real," said young Sharon as she buttoned her 
blouse. She didn't blush. "I mean really, Doctor Rooker, what would you have 
me do? I'm a young horny adolescent and I like jacking myself off. I don't 
know any boys that I really like, and I kind of enjoy sex a lot. So I lay 
back in bed or in the bathroom and I get myself hot and bothered. It's fun. 
I like to use my fingers on my clit. It gives me thrills and chills. You 
know what I mean? It makes me so damn fucking hot that I can't tell you 
about it. You know what I'm saying? I like men. I like the idea of getting 
hot and getting laid. But I don't have any boyfriends. I don't know any 
young men from school who I would like to suck and fuck with. So I 
masturbate. Is that so sick?" 

Dr. Rooker could think of nothing to say. Except, he did tell Mr. Pettibone 
that Sharon was going through a stage, that she would be able to act a 
little more normally in a few months or a year, that for right now it 
wouldn't be too wise to come down hard on her. For that advice and diagnosis 
Mr. Pettibone refused to pay. He took his daughter home and made her undress 
in front of him. "You may have talked that Dr. Rooker into thinking you're 
normal, but you haven't convinced me." He brandished his leather belt. "Lay 
down across my knee, young lady, and take what you have coming to you." 

"Oh, Daddy," she moaned, secretly enjoying the idea, "do I have to?" 

"It's for your own good," he said, trying not to eyeball his daughter's 
supremely luscious chest. "If I don't give you a good licking," he added, 
"you'll grow up thinking that masturbation is alright. I don't want you to 
be one of those perverted young women who become models for pornographers. 
Now lay down across my knee." 

She smiled and wondered what it would be like to be a model for a 
pornographer. Then she laid down across her father's knee, her titties 
hanging low, her ass cheeks spreading wide. "Oh, Daddy," she begged in as 
sweet a voice as possible, "don't strap me too hard. Please? PLEASE? Don't 
hit me too hard with that piece of leather. It might hurt--OH, please, no, 
oh . 

She felt the sting of his punishing strokes at her ass cheeks. He spared her 
nothing. He whipped her solidly with the leather belt. He left neat red 
welts on her ass cheeks, and even though it hurt her, even though he beat 
her body mercilessly, Sharon couldn't help but think that her father didn't 
really want to do that and that she really didn't mind having it done. It 
made her pussy leak just to be nude with her father in her parents' bedroom. 
When it was over, with tears in her eyes, she followed her father's orders 
to say "I will not jack myself off ever again." He made her say it fifty 
times before he let her up off his knee. She noticed as she left the room 
that his cock muscle was tumescent and bulging in his trousers. She wondered 
as she locked herself in her bedroom if her father was going to jack off 
now. 

That night, when she was going to sleep, Sharon heard her mother coming down 
the hallway. She opened the door so that Mrs. Pettibone could come in and 
say good night. Sharon's mother didn't think that her daughter deserved such 
a terrible punishment, but she also believed that the father of the 
household was boss. And that's why she was of no assistance during the 
strapping. "Good night, darling," said Mrs. Pettibone. "You'll feel better 
in the morning." 

"Yes, Mother," said Sharon who was laying on her belly in bed. She had the 
sheets pulled up around her neck as she lay face down. A moment later her 
father showed up at the door. "Now you know what kind of trouble 
masturbation can get you into, Sharon. I expect you'll not do any more of 
it." He shut the door behind him as he left his daughter alone in her 
bedroom. Debby, her sister, was still out with one of her boyfriends. 

Sharon lay quite still in the darkness. No one knew that secretly she had a 
finger up between her twat lips. Even as her mother and father spoke to her 
she'd been fiddling with her clitoris. "I don't care what they say," she 
mumbled to herself, "I happen to like playing with my meaty little clit 
button and I'm going to continue to do so until I find a man who can do 
better. I feel that strongly about it." And she continued to swab at her 
clit with her index finger. "Oh, God," she moaned, "it feels so nice." She 
reached out over the edge of the bed. 

Even though her father had confiscated what tools and photos he could find, 
Sharon still harbored, in her secret hiding place between the two mattresses 
on which she slept, a storehouse of sex appliances. There, right under the 
place where she was sprawled out, were several cock tease tools, cunt device 
rubbers, etc. She had just the thing she needed right now. It was a sculpted 
pecker the size of a shoe. The head of it was thick and made to order for 
belly masturbating. It was to be used specifically when the woman laid on 
her stomach. 

Sharon lifted the thing out from between the mattresses and stroked it down 
along the backs of her legs. She slipped it into her clit container from the 
back, as it was meant to be applied. The cock device worked its way slowly 
into her pussy. It was self-lubricating and therefore among the easiest of 
all the tools to use. "Oh, Jesus," she grunted to herself as the tool slid 
toward home, "I can't believe that they honestly thought I wouldn't play 
with myself anymore." She rubbed the mechanical pecker into her cunt. "My 
gushing gash will be the proof of who's right and who's wrong about this 
issue!" 

She rocked her hips up and down, and thereby took on more and more of the 
synthetic penis. She got most of it into her pussy. Then she began to juice. 
Along with the secretion of her naturally pleasant smelling ooze came the 
sensation of other-worldliness. And from then on, she felt like she was in 
heaven, a celestial spirit floating about the universe like a space-baby 
made to fly the night skies and vacuums. She worked her way into an 
hallucinatory state of zesty lust. "Mmmm, good," she hummed. "This shall be 
nice!" 

She let her mind drift. Her imagination brought up the image of an 
erotically stimulating male parading before her. He was in chains and his 
wrists were manacled behind his back. He was chained around the naked waist 
to the man in front of him as well as to the man behind him. They were lined 
up for an elephant walk, all of them nude, all of them brought to her 
attention to make her hot and sexy. She was some sort of queen and these 
were her subjects, some of them willing, some of them slaves. She picked out 
one with big strong muscles, shiney skin, keen eyes. "That one," she said. 
"Bring him to me. 

He was undone, let free, and he bowed down before her. "I am your sex 
slave," he said simply. "What can I do for you, Sharon Pettibone?" 

Sharon smiled and spread her comely loins. "You can eat out my hole, slave," 
she said. "Get to it." 

He bowed down between her two smooth tanned thighs. He raised his head just 
slightly so that he could look into her deliciously fresh hole. He saw that 
the lips were spread, the hair curly, the fluid oozing. He liked the looks 
of the queen's nice slit. "I'll eat you, Sharon, just as you like." He 
rubbed his tongue up and down on her mound and entered her. He filled her 
slippery wet beaver breach with hot wet mouth muscle. She went wild. 

"Oh, God, I love you," she moaned. "I love the way you eat me." She took the 
man's curly head in her hands and pulled his face up close to her snatch. 
She pressed his open lipped mouth in her pussy. He used his tongue to give 
her a continuing sensation of delight. He rubbed his mouth muscle up and 
down on her clitoris. From there he went kissing her loins. He used his 
hands to spread her leg out so that he could peck at the inside of her 
thigh, suck on the top of it, rub at the smooth undersurface of her ass 
cheek. She turned over for him and he went sliding down into her ass crack, 
there to give her the kind of a rubbing that many women would give their 
left leg for. He rubbed into her anus and up and around her cheeks. He ended 
up back around on her pelvis, there to lick out her twat again. 

"Now my breasts," she ordered him. "Now you must lick my titties until they 
are hard and stiff. Come on, boy, and lick my nipples. You can do it the way 
it needs to be done." He lifted his head up between her two breasts and 
applied his tongue to the sides of her mammaries. He worked his mouth muscle 
along the sides of her titties, and finally he went sliding back and forth 
between the two. He gave her a rather royal treatment. 

"Now I shall do something for you," she told him. "Get down on your back." 

He laid down as per her instructions. His bronzed and muscular chest shined 
up at her. She thought for an instant that he was so strong and his body was 
so muscularly smooth that she could see her reflection in his chest. She 
leaned down after only a moment's hesitation and pressed her soft boobies up 
against his large thick thighs. Her nipples went sliding between his legs 
along with the rest of her teenager pendular mammaries. Everything was quite 
soft, quite creamy and very erotic for the unexpecting slave man. 

Young Sharon Pettibone took to licking at the slave's big thick hard penis 
muscle. She worked her tongue up and down on it. When the slave man started 
to use his hands on the woman, she told him, "No, I'll do all the rubbing. 
You just lay there." She put his hands away from her body. 

She then went back to licking his organ. She kissed the muscular head of it, 
the hot red tip, and she worked her tongue up and down the thickening shaft. 
She kissed his balls, too. Finally, with her hands cupped around his buns, 
she pulled his groin up into her face and filled her mouth with his penis 
meat. She stroked up and down with her sucking lips giving him quite a nice 
feel. "I like that," commented the slave man, but Sharon told him to be 
quiet. 

She next went sliding up along his chest. She kissed off his manly nipples 
while rubbing her leg against his penis, down below. She worked her supple 
skin up between his two legs and rubbed at his loins. She used the top of 
her thigh to rub against his penis until it was as stiff and thick as it 
could possibly be. "Now," she said, "I want you to use that exciting sex 
muscle of yours on my body. I want you to go sliding that thing into my 
pussy and making me cum. Nothing short of orgasm will do. If you don't make 
me have a climax, you will die under the sharp silver blade of the throne. 
Do you understand, slave man?" She smiled jeeringly and gave him access to 
her deep gash. 

"Alright," said the slave. He felt up her legs and pushed his organ into the 
furry blind. He gave her all of his mushroom head and more. Her curly bush 
accepted that large meat, took it all on. Into the slick wet breach went his 
joint. He filled her up good. He gave her more cock meat than she would ever 
need. He rode her for an hour and she panted and huffed and puffed with 
ecstasy in every breath. There was no stopping either one of them. For the 
slave a successful fuck meant life, liberty, freedom and the pursuit of 
happiness. For the woman a good one meant orgasm, ecstasy. 

"You're getting good and hot," she told him after five hundred strokes. 
"It's going to work. You can make me cum and save your neck." She wrapped 
her fingers around his two ass cheeks and pulled him in deep. She aimed her 
twat at his rocket flesh missile and took him on at the angle she knew would 
be best for both of them. His shooting flesh filled her with jism at just 
the right moment. She came and long interior smooth muscle contracted in 
series around his joint. She tugged out every drop of cum that he had to 
give her. "Oh, God," she moaned, "I love it. I love the way you fuck! It's 
good. I'm cuming! Oh, yes, God, I'm cuming ..." She juiced all over his 
thick penis meat until her insides had turned into a clit juice swimming 
pool. When it was all over he pulled his meat out and thought happily to 
himself that he was no longer a slave man--he was a free man! 

But just then the queen, Sharon Pettibone, finished off her fantasy: "Off 
with his head!" she ordered. "And bring me the next one!" She spread her 
comely loins and laughed mercilessly. She didn't stick around, either, to 
see the expression of betrayal on her slave's face. That would have been too 
much for even a teenager to handle. 

She was back in reality, in the darkness of her bedroom, fisting the dildo 
in and out of her yet to climax cunt. She was waiting for that final stab 
which would send her twittering clit into the throes of total orgasmic 
ecstasy. "Oh, God," she roared under her breath in a hoarse whisper, "I 
should have let him finish me off completely. She referred to her slave man 
and her fantasy. "I'll have to think of something else now, something else 
to make me cum. 

She let loose of the dildo for a moment. It was dark in her bedroom. She 
could feel herself sweating between her legs. She could feel the leak of 
clit ooze between her twat lips, and she knew that she wasn't very far at 
all from a very satisfying orgasmic high. She just had to think up that one 
last image which would send her over the hill, into the Meadow Of Bliss, up 
onto High Cloud, into The Land of Love. 

She tried to relax her brain and picture herself alone in the arms of one of 
her highschool friends. He was tall and good-looking, and his name was Sam. 
He played football and all the girls were hot for his body. It was he, Sam, 
who Sharon figured would get her the rest of the way up the sex ladder. She 
saw him rubbing her titties, sucking on her nipples, playing between her 
legs and rubbing down her mound. She enjoyed the feel of his fingers sliding 
back and forth between her labia lips. She liked especially the way he 
attacked her clitoris with his long middle digit. "Oh, yes, Sam, do it!" she 
muttered. "Really get me hot and juicy, babydoll. I need, I need to cum! You 
hear me, honey? I need to fucking CUM!" 

She rolled her legs open wide, and even though she was on her belly, this 
added spread between her thighs enabled the rear-end dildo to go sliding 
even deeper into the breach. She could feel the prong-like tip as it bounced 
up against the back of her cunt. She enjoyed that and pretended it would 
never end. 

It wasn't long after that when she realized she was only a throb away from 
orgasm. To make sure that she didn't squeal too loudly when the final chills 
crept across her body, she buried her face in her pillow. Then she bore down 
hard, pressed the stiff, meat-like plastic rod all the way into her cave. 
She gave the thing a good stiff shove, and off she went, zooming like a 
hang-glider, flying upwards, swooping here and there in her sensuous flight 
of ecstasy. The next thing she knew it was morning and her mother was 
telling her she must prepare for school. 

Chapter 9 Real And Rooty 

"Oh, God, yes," squealed young Cindy Fawcet. "Like a geyser I do!" 

The answer was in response to Sharon's simple question: "Do you ever have 
wet dreams?" The look on Cindy's face, if the words themselves hadn't been 
enough of a statement, said it all. She was delighted just with the thought 
of a wet dream. "Do you know," she continued, "that one night I came so hard 
that I nearly woke up my parents? Do you have any idea what would have 
happened if they had discovered me doing that? Do you think they would have 
let me out of the house ever again? Why no, they'd have probably beat the 
hell out of me for a week and a half! And I really mean it, too! My father 
would have tanned my hide if he knew I was into that. And how are you 
supposed to keep from cuming if it's a wet dream, anyhow?" 

"I know exactly what you mean," said Sharon to her high school buddy. "My 
father and mother found me last weekend after I'd had a little bit of my own 
personal orgy. There was no way in the world I could talk to them after 
that. They just wouldn't listen. Now I have to creep around the house and 
not say anything at all that has to do with sex. For fear I'll get beaten up 
again. My father used his belt. I never thought he would do that. My mother, 
of course, she doesn't even give a damn at all. One time she came in and 
helped me, even, helped me get it off the rest of the way, used her hand to 
do that and all. But my Dad, he doesn't go for it at all." 

"Boy," said Cindy, unbuttoning her blouse, "I sure am glad we decided to 
talk today." She slipped out of her cotton white shirt and walked across the 
bedroom in just her bra and skirt. "You don't mind if I change into 
something a little more comfortable, do you?" She smiled prettily at Sharon 
who watched her long time school acquaintance go about the task of changing 
clothes. The two girls had known each other since they were little. They 
often shared stories about what it was like to have a date with this or that 
boy, on who they would most like to be seen with, and then again on who they 
would most like to suck off or screw. It was only natural that they have 
similar tastes, but it was on account of Cindy's suggestion, that afternoon, 
that Gary Wonten was the best possible male at Dover High that led the two 
girls back to Cindy's house. Sharon argued that young Davey would just have 
to be a better fuck, that there were no two ways about it, and she argued so 
vehemently and so passionately that she didn't even realize that she was 
walking all the way home to Cindy's house. Now they had arrived and taken to 
talking about sundry other things. 

"You know," said Cindy, "there is one time that I remember, when I was a 
little younger, when my father did something very odd. He came into my room 
when my mother was away and he sat down alongside my bed. I must have been 
only eleven or twelve. He sat next to me and he ran his hand along my arm. I 
think he wanted to see if I was awake or something. I wasn't, but I was, and 
when I realized that that was what he was trying to figure out, just laid 
there. I didn't do anything at all except lay there. Do you know what he 
did?" 

"No, what?" asked Sharon. "And how come you didn't tell me about this 
before?" 

"I just forgot, I guess," said Cindy. She slipped out of her skirt. She had 
smooth tanned thighs and nicely sculpted calves. Her pubic hair was dark and 
the flesh leaves comprising her labia ruby red and shining. Her supple loins 
shimmered as she continued to tell her chilling story. "You see," she said, 
"it's not the kind of thing that I wanted to remember necessarily. He 
stroked my arm to see if I was awake, like I said, and then he let big 
fingers get down close to my pelvis. That was quite frightening. You know 
what I mean? He got his hands down close to my legs and I was really a 
little afraid. If it was anyone except my father I would have started 
screaming for my father--if you know what I mean. But it was him, right 
there in person, so I figured it must be alright, He pulled down the sheets 
and he climbed in right next to me. I was still half-asleep but my heart was 
beating a mile a minute." 

"I'm getting turned on," said Sharon Pettibone, "just listening to this 
story. What happened next?" 

Cindy picked up her leg and slipped a foot into a tight pair of levies. 
"Well, next he started rubbing up against me. He was only wearing a pair of 
underwear, too. I could feel his boner down there. Oh, God, it was big. I 
had never touched one before, either. I was going to reach down there and 
touch it so I could enjoy myself a little, but then I realized that if I did 
that Daddy would know I was awake. I just laid there and let him go sliding 
and rubbing and all the way he wanted to. I had to do it. I didn't have any 
choice at all. Imagine if you told your father that he couldn't touch you 
when he thought you were asleep or something. Well, anyhow, after a little 
while I felt his muscle get all wet and all. He was breathing pretty hard 
for a while before that. I forgot to mention that. And I guess it was 
because he was ejaculating. Then it was all over. He climbed out of bed and 
left me alone there. I thought for sure he was going to come back and do it 
again or something because he left the hall light on, and that's something 
he never does. Pretty soon my mother came home and then they went to sleep. 
I never told him that I knew what he did that night. I always just pretended 
that I was asleep. Nobody except you, Sharon, knows about that." 

"Hot fucking damn!" said Sharon. She snapped her fingers and clicked her 
tongue. "Did he never talk to you about that ever?" 

"Never," said Cindy who had finished dressing. "Oh, my, I get chills just 
thinking back about it." 

"Oh, I guess so," said Sharon. "That's about one of the sexiest things that 
could ever happen to a girl." 

"Not by a long shot," said Cindy. She was fully dressed now, in her new 
outfit. She took a seat on, her bed next to Sharon. 

"Well, then," said Sharon, "you tell me something sexier!" 

Cindy reached her hand between Sharon's legs. "You and I could make love," 
she said. She slid her finger upwards into Sharon's twat. Sharon wore no 
underwear so it was real easy for Cindy to get a hold of the young woman's 
clitoris. 

"Oh, God, I don't know if we should," said Sharon. "I mean, I'm all turned 
on and all, but I haven't even made love to a boy, and here I am letting you 
play with my twat, Cindy. It doesn't seem quite right." She lifted the other 
girl's hand out from between her legs and smiled. "You don't hate me, do 
you?" 

"No, I don't hate you," said Cindy, blushing and wondering why Sharon didn't 
want to sleep with her. 

"Listen," said Sharon, who stood now and scratched her straight blonde hair, 
"I think I better go home. But just as soon as I get old Davey to fuck me, 
then I'll be back and you and I can do it, o.k. Cindy?" She leaned forward 
and gave her bosom buddy a kiss on the cheek. "I promise," she added, and 
with that she left. 

On her way home, in her short skirt and without her panties, she felt the 
cool breeze rushing between her twat leaves and making her feel sexy all 
over. The story about Cindy and Cindy's Dad sure had made young Sharon 
Pettibone awfully horny. She could feel the juices beginning to collect in 
her cave, and she wondered if she would have the house to herself long 
enough to rip of a masturbatory piece of ass. She knew that she was plenty 
hot and plenty ready to go. She only needed to be alone and able to 
fantasize a couple of hot scenes. The rest would take care of itself 

Sure enough, she arrived home and discovered on the living room table a note 
scribbled in her mother's familiar and difficult to read scrawl: "Your 
father and I have gone out for the night. There's steak in the fridge. Have 
a good night." It was signed, "Love Alice." "Well," she said aloud, "I guess 
that leaves only one more person to be concerned with." And just then the 
door to her bedroom opened in front of her and her sister, Debby, 
unknowingly scurried in the nude from the bedroom to the bathroom, saying as 
she went, "Lenny, I'll be right back." She giggled and shut the bathroom 
door behind her. 

Sharon peeked around the bedroom door. There in her sister's bed was a big 
man with a big wet erection. The tip of his mushroom meat was the first 
thing that young Sharon Pettibone saw. She couldn't believe how large it 
was, how full and thick the stem of the hot meat was. She wanted to rush in 
and fall on her knees before her sister's new find and beg him to let her 
have just a taste of such a beautiful hog. She flushed as the thought raced 
across her mind. She could do it. She was about to take the first step 
forward, into the hallway and down the corridor. She didn't move though, 
because the bathroom toilet flushed, the door burst open, and out came 
Debby, her titties flying left and right and she new back into the bedroom 
and shut the door behind her. Sharon could hear her older sister say: 
"Diaphragms are a pain in the arse, but babies are even worse." 

She cursed herself for coming home and thinking she would have the place to 
herself. She wondered if maybe Debby and the Young man, whatever his name 
was, would soon be leaving and thus giving her the privacy she needed in 
order to satisfy her own giant sexual needs. The crave and itch in her twat 
had grown large and demanding. "If only they would leave in a little while," 
she pouted. "If only I knew for a fact that they would be leaving in a 
little while. Then I could live with the idea of waiting." 

She considered going into the bathroom and sitting down on the toilet to 
tweak her twitching clitoris, but she hated the feel of that round seat 
against her buns. and she didn't like looking at the cold tile of the john. 
She would have to think of something else. But the sight of the real 
hard-on. The previous story of incest told by her friend Cindy, the day's 
events in general and the fact that she was a pubescent teenager-all of 
these things combined together to make Sharon Pettibone so hot and so lusty 
that her juices began leaking out of her twat labia without her lifting a 
finger. "Oh, God," she muttered to herself, still standing in the hallway 
entrance, "what the hell am I supposed to do?" 

While thinking about alternative plans, she slipped her hand down under the 
folds of her skirt and came up with a handful of fresh juicy twat flesh. She 
rubbed her finger into her pussy. For support and for comfort and ease she 
leaned back against the hallway wall and then pressed her finger even 
further up into her juicy hole. She felt the wall behind her, flat against 
her back, and she felt her finger sliding in and out of her hot wet pussy. 
She enjoyed the strokes she was giving herself in her cunt. Her mighty 
little clitoris was up and active, throbbing for more and more sexual 
stimulation. And as for the juices boiling inside her pussy cavern-they were 
all going wild, ready to bubble over. She closed her eyes and let her head 
fall back against the wall. She used her other hand to go searching under 
her blouse for her left nipple. She found it and teased the cherry tips 
upright. They stood active and ready for service like tin soldiers at 
attention. "Oh, God," she sighed, slipping to the wood floor below, "I need 
to have it now." 

By the time she was sitting flat on the hallway floor, legs spread, feet 
turned outwards, loins wide open, she was dreaming about a particularly 
brutal fellow who was threatening to beat her. 

"I'm going to give you a beating you'll never forget," he insisted. "So just 
get used to the idea." 

He had dark eyes and bushy eyebrows. He could see in Sharon Pettibone's face 
a basically subservient creature. He was going to rule her, to make her 
submit to every vile and disgusting thing be could possibly think of. He 
knew just from a single inspection of her young face that she was by far one 
of the most masochistic creatures he had ever met. He stepped forward 
brandishing a metal and leather chain device. He clipped it by a silver 
bracelet to her naked wrist. She wailed at him, struggled to be free, but 
there was no escape. He dragged her behind him. At first she was able to 
keep up with him. They were on a dusty dirty road, as though suddenly she 
and this sadist had been dropped into the middle of the New Mexico plains 
country. He dragged her along the road and she lost her footing. He kept 
pulling, though, and she went down, nude, behind him. He managed to keep her 
moving only because of his tremendous brute strength. 

Then, in the dust, out in the middle of nowhere, he chained her to a single 
steel pole. She was in tether. He took from a case formerly strewn over his 
shoulder a pair of metal prongs and a hammer. He pounded the prongs halfway 
into the dusty road. Then he took a third and a fourth horseshoe shaped 
prong and pounded them part way into the dirt road. Finally, he unleashed 
young and naked Sharon Pettibone and forced her ankles and wrists under the 
four prongs. The metal clasps were perfectly arranged. The mysterious strong 
man pounded the clasps the rest of the way down so that all four pieces of 
steel held Sharon's small wrists and only slightly thicker ankles close to 
the ground. She was bound taut to the road. 

He began laughing. He chortled, and then he laughed loudly, so loud that his 
laughter could be heard echoing off some distant plateau of rock. When he 
heard his voice returning to him he stopped. He smiled at Sharon who was in 
a state of abject fright. He looked down at her naked pussy and smiled 
again. "I'm going to fuck the shit out of this bitch," he said, as if 
talking to someone else. He climbed down between her legs and took his meat 
in hand. "I'm going to fuck her so hard that she doesn't know what hit her." 
He speared her in the pussy. 

His hefty meat impaled Sharon. She couldn't move. The prongs held her tight 
to the beaten road. The strong man filled her flesh breach with hot cock 
meat. She was frightened, but she couldn't help juicing a great deal all 
over the man's stiff cock. "Oh, God," she moaned, not to him because she 
knew he didn't care. "Oh, God, FUCK, FFFUUUUUCCCCKKKKK!" 

She came to on the hallway floor. Her sister Debby and her boyfriend Lenny 
were standing naked above her. "Sharon?! Sharon?!" They were yelling at her, 
trying to bring her back from some faraway place about which she had been 
screaming and yelling. She looked up and saw Lenny's big stiff meat. It was 
wet and thick. She thought it looked. like the strong man's muscle. For a 
moment she was frightened. She closed her eyes and settled back against the 
wall. "What happened?" she asked. "Did something happen?" 

They looked at each other and then down at Sharon. Debby said: "You were 
crying out. You were yelling not to beat you. You were saying that they 
shouldn't use the whip and you had your hand in your cunt. Were you 
dreaming? Sharon? What were you doing here in the hallway?" Then Debby saw 
that Sharon's hand had been down between her young loins. "Oh, poor 
darling," said Debby Pettibone softly. "I think I understand now." 

"I wish someone would tell me," said Lenny who stood up and went back to the 
bedroom. Debby followed after him and in a whisper she said: "My sister 
never fucked before. She was out there masturbating, probably about you, 
silly. And she got carried away. That's all." 

"I get it," said Lenny, "and you want me to fuck her?" 

"No, I certainly don't," said Debby. "But she will need to have something 
real and rooty pretty soon. Or she's going to go crazy again." She smiled 
and went back to young Sharon. She tried to comfort her horny younger 
sister. 

Chapter 10 Lust Beast 

It was two days later. Again that crazy crave crawled in Sharon's pelvis. 
She could feel the itch, the desire. She could sense it growing. She knew it 
was there, alive like an animal, like a terrified beast seeking solace from 
a dreaded hunter. The beast hid in first one corner of her twat, and then 
laid flat on the bottom of the cave, and then it stood up and reared his 
head outwards, as if to challenge all comers: "Fuck me! Fuck me! See if you 
can fuck me!" 

She felt it growing stronger, more needy, hornier. She needed something 
inside her devilishly hot bod. She needed it soon. Which would have been 
just Jim Dandy, but the crave struck her while she was sitting in the living 
room watching t.v. with her parents. Her mother sat knitting, and her 
father, Mr. Pettibone sat glazed over and motionless, like some sort of 
ceramic sculpture, watching nothing but the blue glare off the set. "Jesus," 
Sharon felt like screaming, "don't you all want to do something else?" 

But she stifled the tiny scream and went about her business, that being 
sitting still and watching the tube. "Oh, God," she moaned inside her head, 
"isn't there some way out of this?" She stood up and said aloud: "I'm going 
to do some homework." Neither of her parents looked up. Her father, however, 
like a talking potato, said at the blue glare: "Don't you go and start doing 
you know what ..." 

Of course she knew "what," but nothing her father was saying could possibly 
stop her. He didn't know, and perhaps that was part of his problem, that the 
sex drive was far stronger than any reprimand he could possibly inflict on 
his daughter's young consciousness. She left the room silently, supposedly 
obediently, and then she rushed out the back door of the house, out into the 
backyard where it was dark and a summer heat filled the night with a black 
humidity. There were a few stars twinkling vaguely up above. Sharon spread 
herself out under the sky on the backyard lawn. She was wearing cotton 
shorts and her smooth tanned legs, even in the night, were shining nicely. 
She unbuttoned the top button of her little shorts and reached her hand, her 
fingers, down through her curly mound and into the flesh breach where her 
lusty juices boiled for attention. 

"Oh, God," she moaned up at the nighttime sky, it won't you please, please 
send me a man ... a man to fuck my twat and make me cum ... Make me cum ... 
make me cum ..." She closed her eyes and let one finger do the necessary 
work. A single digit slid along next to her clitoris, rubbed it softly and 
made the thing tight and rubbery. The twitching digit flicked the hot clit 
meat. "Oh, nice," muttered young Sharon Pettibone, "I think that's nice." 

It was easy for her to see Davey, the Dover boy on whom she had a severe 
crush, whipping out his phallus and flinging it at her like a Frizbee. She 
caught it in the twat and pulled him down on top of her body, pulled him 
close so that his big mushroom headed meat went zinging and grinding into 
her hole. She held him by the rump, by his pounding jackhammer ass cheeks, 
and she rubbed a finger up and down along his anus. She made sure that his 
penis was all the way up inside her pussy, all the way down her channel and 
making her hotter and lustier than ever. She liked the feel from that big 
sword, the way he worked out on her mound, the way his balls went softly 
clanging against the inside of her smooth spread loins. She lifted her 
thighs in order to be able to get more of the imaginary meat. 

"Ahhhh, God, yes," she muttered. She spread her legs wider and got more and 
more of her finger-fucking action going in her pussy. She made sure to work 
out especially hard on her pussy with her digits. It only took her a minute 
to get that little clit meat of hers all the way up, fried and greasy. It 
wasn't enough that it had been twitching and hard. It had to be greasy hot, 
rolling in goo, so stimulated and erotically high that it was ready to pop 
off her cunt with ecstasy. 

And when it finally was that hot, when Sharon's clit meat was really good 
and sassy and ready to roll that way, she reached down around her hips, let 
her legs slide flat on the backyard lawn, and pulled her shorts off. She 
unbuttoned her blouse and took that off, too. It was one of the rare 
occasions that she wore a bra, so she had to get up and undo it also. Her 
goal was to run naked in her parents' backyard, even with them present, and 
she was doing it now. She had all her clothes off and she was streaming 
around the yard in the nude. She was as happy as a bird is free, and her 
pussy was juicing wildly. "Oh God," she moaned flopping down in the middle 
of the backyard, "if they could see me now they'd have me arrested. But I 
don't care. This is the way it should always be." She spread her legs again 
and this time she stroked her pussy with several fingers at once. She rubbed 
her little bare bodkin of a twat-dick up and down and from side to side. She 
rolled over on her belly and stuffed her cunt with one hand and her asshole 
with a finger from the other. She filled her bunghole right up, and in the 
same rhythm, in exactly the same cadence with which she rubbed a finger in 
and out of her pie. 

It didn't take the fifteen year old nymph long to think of something nice to 
make her even hotter. She saw young Davey rolling in the grass next to her. 
She got up on her hands and knees and said: "Davey, fuck my bunghole. Put 
that big thick boner of yours up my anus tube and make me cum." She climbed 
down between his legs and took his hard cock muscle into her lips. She 
licked the head of the prong with her splayed tongue. She used the broad 
side of her mouth muscle to coat the shaft. Soon she announced that she was 
ready: "Stick it up my arse, Davey. That's the way I want it, right on up my 
ass-hole." She reached back, leaning on her face, and used both hands to 
unfold her ass flesh. Her fanny beckoned to him: come to me and fuck it! 

He lifted his hot poker and pressed the head of it into place. He jammed the 
mushroom spearhead down the channel entrance and aimed for bowel territory. 
He was in her ass-hole, one inch, two, three, five inches, six inches all 
the way in. 

"Oh, God," she screeched. "Oh, fucking God All Mighty! Oh, FFFUUUUCCCKKKK!" 
She nearly climbed a tree in order to get away from the terrific pressure of 
his meat in her distended anal track. "Please," she begged, "I didn't mean 
it! It's just too much! You have to slow down! Please slow down! You have to 
give me a break! Please!" But Davey didn't stop. He kept pounding and 
hammering his wedge of hot cock meat into her asshole. He slid down deep 
inside the narrow tube. When he hit bowel territory, he shifted gears and 
went cautiously in circles. He plied her anus circle with delicate accuracy. 
The thickest part of his boner took care of that. 

"You must get off," she moaned. 

He wrapped his hands around her waist. His one hand took care of her twat 
while the other drifted upwards to her large hanging breasts. There he 
kneaded creamy flesh, titillated delightful nipples, worked hard and 
diligently to get her titties as hot as possible. When the chest began to 
perspire and ooze a sensual aroma from its pores, he let up on the large 
mammaries. He took to squeezing her loins with both hands. At no time, 
though, did he ever extract his flesh injector from her bunghole. 

"GOD FUCKING DAMN!" she cried out at him. "Won't you please ..." It was 
useless. She crawled around the backyard with Davey hot muscle crammed up 
her asshole, so far into her bowels that she couldn't breathe without 
feeling it. It was in her up to the hilt, and there was no way of avoiding 
the excruciating pain of that huge muscle gyrating in her rump. 

Soon Davey could feel the long tender muscles of Sharon's ass going to work 
on his flesh stick. They contracted and undulated around his meaty hard-on. 
They seemed to work automatically, rolling and milking his rod for 
everything that they could get from it. Long, smooth waves of contraction 
began at the base of his meat, in the sphincter band, and they passed 
smoothly up along the stem, through the shaft and across the heart-shaped 
head. They pumped at his jism-producing rod until he came dangerously close 
to shooting off his wad. 

Then, with his erection sweaty and heated and ready for the big killing up 
Sharon's asshole, he pulled out. He reared back with a big smile. Sharon 
turned around and asked what the problem was. Davey told her that he liked 
to feel her asshole around his cock, but that he preferred, when it came to 
orgasm, to be inside her pussy. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his 
shoulders. He took her hands away from him, however, and said that he must 
go and wash himself first. She made him promise not to tell anybody what she 
was about to do. He winced but didn't stop her. She went down on his cock 
with her mouth and cleaned him that way. 

A moment later she was on her back, however, with his big thick meat deep in 
her V. He was all the way up inside her cave. The twat muscles were going 
wild, seething with desire. It seemed that the more muscle he gave her the 
more she wanted. The hotter he made her the hornier she became. He rubbed 
and pushed and shoved his joint in and out of her slippery oily hole. "Mmm," 
he hummed from time to time, noting the different slides, the new angles, 
the various positions that they assumed in order to get off on this one 
fuck. "Jesus," he grunted, "you certainly do have the twat for it, baby. I 
have to say that ..." He rammed his point all the way home, slid a finger 
around her hips and into her anus, and filled her bunhole with just as much 
boney finger as he was using phallus to fill her pussy. 

"God damn, Davey," she moaned, "you got me going from both ends now. You 
really fucking do!" She waved her ass from side to side and his boner went 
sliding nicely against the two walls of her pussy entrance. Those juicy lips 
worked their ooze into the meat of his hard-on. "I love it," he told her. 
"Keep moving like that." He pursed his lips and took to sucking on one of 
her cherry nipples. The thing was hot, and the breast below was covered with 
goose bumps. She enjoyed the licking of her titty almost as much as she 
liked the feel of his boner in her pussy, his finger in her anus. "You're 
good," she told him. "You're really fucking good, Davey." 

Suddenly--Sharon didn't know why--she came back to reality. She was curled 
into a fetal ball at the distal end of the back yard. She thought she heard 
something. She took her two fingers, one from each hand, out from her two 
pelvic holes. She stared back in the direction of the porch. She heard the 
screen door open. It must have been her mother and father, for one of them 
called into the night and at the same time there was another voice 
whispering. She lay perfectly still, like a hunted animal, and tried not to 
give herself away. A moment later the voices died down. Sharon decided that 
she might be better off getting dressed for a moment, returning to the house 
and finishing herself off in the privacy of her bedroom. 

She made her way across the backyard, grabbed up her shorts and slipped into 
them. She quickly drew on her blouse and entered the house as quietly as 
possible. In the dark of her bedroom she slipped out of her clothes again 
and climbed into bed. She could smell on her naked body the grass she'd been 
rolling in as well as the scent of her own sweet honey pot. "My, my," she 
said, "I really do get carried away sometimes." 

Her chief reason for coming back into the house was to retrieve the dildo. 
She reached under her mattress and grabbed hold of the thick plastic handle. 
She felt a ripple of relief, a slight tremor, pass through her body as she 
griped the thing. She pulled it out from under the bed and brought it into 
position, in her two fists, above her spread pussy lips. She slid it 
downwards, pushed it into the hollow flesh cave there, and enjoyed the 
benefits of her well-lubricated, slightly oozing hole. The machine went all 
the way back inside her body. She breathed quietly so as to avoid making any 
unnecessary sound which might bring her parents. Then, with her attention 
riveted to the feel in her pussy, she clicked the battery-operated penis 
into full gear and felt a heart-stopping surge (of sexual energy gushing in 
every direction at once within her pussy and across her mound) as the 
egg-beater took on speed for its highly stimulating rub. 

"Oh, Jesus," she cried out, and again she saw young Davey coming at her, his 
hog fully erect, his legs sweaty and his waist tied round with leather 
straps. "Davey?" she said softly. "Is that you?" It was then, as she spoke, 
that she discovered the manacles on her hands and feet, the spread of her 
loins, the halter around her mound. She was as spread wide with a metal 
binding which strapped her vagina open. Her hands and ankles were tied back 
to the wet wall of a cave of some sort. And Davey was snapping a whip, 
cracking it closer and closer to her body. "No," she said, "please, not 
that. Not the whip. Anything but the whip." 

Davey smiled. 

She gushed from her twat, from the feel of the dildo working out at full 
speed. The machine was in high gear. It beat at her clit. The little twat 
prick was being rubbed vigorously. Long smooth muscles inside her pussy 
responded in kind. They secreted some heavenly oil, a perfume yet to be 
matched by the most inventive French perfume manufacturers. She slid her 
legs backwards, so that the tops of her young virgin thighs, blond and 
slick, pressed on her nipples, against her big teats. "Oh, Jesus," she 
moaned as the dildo continued to roll in and out of her body. "I love it. I 
really do fucking love it ..." She applied a finger to her available, 
vulnerable anus. She worked her digits in and out of her ass-hole as she 
used the machine to keep her pussy wide and gushing. 

"I'm cuming," she moaned. "I really am cuming!" She thought for a moment 
that she was a little too loud, that she was making too much noise and that 
her parents would come into the room, that her father would scold and 
chastise her, maybe even beat her again. But the thought of being spanked 
made young Sharon Pettibone even hotter and lustier than she was before. She 
stroked up and down in her juice-filled cunt. Her channel contracted 
involuntarily as orgasm started to follow upon orgasm. She was climaxing 
vigorously around the prong of the battery-operated dildo. She was cuming 
all over her fingers and all over the plastic machine. There would surely be 
a hefty splotch in the morning, a puddle of juice under her fanny. She 
wondered if she should go on with the ecstasy producing finger-fucking and 
dildo-masturbating that she was doing. But it was impossible for her to 
think clearly in such a state of total pleasure. She could only picture 
young Davey and how nice it was to feel his hot muscular body against her 
own, rubbing against her titties, fucking her cunt, rubbing on her ass 
cheeks and massaging her everywhere, especially inside. 

"Oh, God," she moaned, "Davey, fuck me! Fuck me really hard, Davey! You make 
me cum! You make me so juicy and hot! You turn me into a lust beast!" 

"Yeah, sweetheart," she heard him say. "That's because you're so good. You 
have such nice smooth thighs and such a pretty little smile. How could I not 
like you, eh? You tell me--how could I not get a kick out of rubbing my 
pecker inside your twat-hole?" Davey smiled and continued to spear young 
Sharon Pettibone's hot wet canal. He gave her everything he had, all of his 
jumbo ten inch prick, his finger up her ass hole, his mouth on her mouth, 
his tongue in her face, his muscular chest against her creamy soft pendular 
titties. He rocked down deep, and all of his mushroom head impaled the 
squirming teenager. He tacked her down to the ground, pumped his joint into 
the back of her orgasmic hole and let her have it with a machine-gun spray 
of hot sperm bullets, every one of which went ricocheting around inside her 
flooded twat canyon.. 

"Oh, Jesus Christ, fucking Lord, oh, fuck, piss--CUNT, FUCK, SHIT!" She 
wailed at him, rolled her hips up and down and climbed his meaty trunk. She 
took all of his meat into her pussy and rubbed it with her long smooth 
muscles. She felt his jism juice filling her up, puddling inside her hole. 
"I love you, Davey," she moaned. "I love you because you fuck me in the twat 
and in the mouth and in the ass-hole. I love you because you have ten inches 
of the biggest hottest meatiest dick I ever saw. You hear me, Davey? I love 
that hot phallus of yours, and I love that big thick stem, and those hot 
nuts!" 

She came momentarily back to reality. She looked around the room. It was 
dark. She was alone. She heard someone coming in the front door. It would 
have to be her sister, Debby. She felt like crying. That's how happy she was 
that she had had such a nice orgasm. "Oh, God," she moaned to herself as she 
slipped the dildo back under the mattress. "That was really something." 

A moment later her bedroom door opened. It was Debby, her sister. "Sis," 
whispered Debby who was already undressing. "Sis? Are you awake?" 

"Yes," said Sharon. "Wide awake. What's up?" 

"I just had the most fabulous date! You wouldn't believe it!" 

"I wish I could say the same," said Sharon. "I had to jack myself off 
again." 

"Oh, boy," said Debby, "that's too bad because fucking, really getting a 
meaty dick grinding you in your pussy-well, there's nothing finer than that! 
And that's what I got tonight! Oh, boy, was it good! You know what I mean? 
Nothing could have made me happier. I just loved to feel that hot meat of 
his grinding away inside my cunt hole." 

"I wish I could say," said Sharon, "that I knew what you meant." 

"Don't worry," said Debby who was now naked and ready for bed, "someday 
you'll find a man who will satisfy you, who will take your virginity and let 
you know what a thrill it is to fuck. Don't you worry about that!" She 
climbed into her bed which was just a little ways away from Sharon's. 

After a few moments, Debby asked quietly of Sharon: "Are you awake, little 
sister? Are you still awake?" 

Sharon was still awake, dreaming about what it would be like to have a real 
cock in her twat instead of a dildo, but she didn't answer her sister. She 
didn't think it mattered. She just lay quiet as though she were asleep 
because she just wanted to think about bow nice it would be to have the real 
McCoy. Then, suddenly, as if from nowhere, she heard a labored panting, a 
gasping, a huffing and a puffing. She looked sideways in the dark and saw 
that her sister's sheets were loaded and rolling. Debby's hands slid up and 
down under the crisp linen where she was hard at it, rubbing and tugging at 
her clitoris. She, too, despite all of her enthusiasm for the "real thing" 
had her thighs spread and her cunt lips open so that she could jam with her 
fingers, so that she could, one last time before falling asleep that night, 
masturbate. 

"Oh, God," sighed young Sharon Pettibone, "that really is funny! That must 
be the funniest thing I've seen in weeks!" And with that the teenage nymph 
rolled over and slipped a finger, as was her custom as she fell asleep, 
between her wet twat lips. "That's just too funny," she mumbled, and she was 
about to say something else to herself, but already she had dozed off. 


 The End
