The Paper Boy Is Coming
by Carolyn Hunt
(RX-379)


FOREWORD 

Take one mother-daughter team, let both of them become frustrated and 
passionate and lusting after a male ... and turn both of them on to the same 
target ... the horny little paperboy who services their route. 

That's what makes The Paperboy Is Coming! 

The daughter accidentally sets him up for the mother, only she didn't know 
it at the time, she was too busy trying to get to his hunky little body 
herself. The happy trap puts his bait right where mother could reach it, and 
she did, gobbling down every fiery drop. 

It didn't take her daughter long, though, to catch on to what had happened, 
so she set another trap, and this time she dragged him off into a secret 
room and lowered the boom on him. ... Either he did exactly what she told 
him to do to her, every time she wanted it done, or she would blow the whole 
scheme and tell everyone what she knew. 

Of course, that isn't all she blew, but that's another part of the story. 

Carolyn Hunt consistently turns in exciting novels for Surrey House, Inc., 
and her strictly adult, The Paperboy Is Coming! is definitely no exception. 
If you think the same way, jump aboard the paperboy's bike, grab him tight 
and hold him for dear life ... and see just how good a ride the kid can give 
you.... 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Sheri Meredith was a Navy wife, so she should have been used to being left 
alone. After eighteen years of it, and getting on toward forty, who the hell 
would think she would miss her guy as much as she did? 

She scratched at her crotch, at her pubic mound, really, where she felt a 
mild itch, and grinned at her reflection in an oriental mirror. "like some 
hot-pants schoolgirl," she said aloud, a habit she naturally enjoyed during 
the lonely months when Brooks was on sea duty. 

Well, she hadn't changed much. Even when she was in her early twenties, and 
her body really should have been a lot more fired up for good old Brooksy's 
peter, she could always stand it a month before she got really antsy. And 
here she was thirty-eight, and he'd been gone a month, and bingo! The heat 
was on! 

She heard her daughter rummaging around in her own bedroom, and smiled. The 
very thought of having a kid had scared the pants off her. Nearly twelve 
years ago when she'd come back from the Navy Hospital, feeling very lost and 
hollow inside, dreading to tell Brooks what had happened inside her. Was 
happening. A baby, growing in her womb, for Christ's sake! She'd never even 
thought of it like that, never even thought of having a womb! She remembered 
how she had hurriedly undressed, looking at her belly in the mirror to see 
if it showed yet. Wow! Talk about stupid! 

She patted her belly, now, twelve years later, with a good deal of pride and 
satisfaction. The old bod hadn't changed all that much. Maybe ten pounds 
heavier, maybe twelve. She was five feet, seven inches tall, and twelve 
pounds properly distributed over sixty-seven inches of vertical measure 
didn't make too much difference. She had always been proud of her figure. 
Brooksy had told her when they were first going together that she was built 
like a brick shithouse. And when he took her to the NCO club on the base, 
there were always more than a few wolf whistles. Nice! 

She turned in profile, and chuckled. "Only thing I wear that's changed in 
size is my bra," she murmured, sort of low, so that her daughter Rocky 
wouldn't hear her. Kids that age were always looking for an advantage over a 
parent. Especially a mother. If Rocky had something to poke fun at, to laugh 
at, she'd get no peace. 

So, she'd been nuts to worry so, twelve years ago. After all, it hadn't torn 
her up down there. She'd been scared of that. Brooks had always been happy 
that her cunt'd been so tight. "My gal's got a pussy like a mouse's ear," 
he'd said, many a time, kissing her. 

Just for fun, she opened her robe and really sized herself up. If she did 
say so herself, she had a hell of a figure for a girl-a woman, that is-of 
thirty-eight. Boobs, belly, butt, legs. "Enough to drive a guy out of his 
nut," Brooksy had whispered, the first time he'd worked her up to such a 
peak of heat that she no longer could gasp "No!" as he wrestled her down on 
her couch. 

He was a good man, her husband. And a hell of a lover. Always had been, and 
still was. 

But he'd be gone a minimum of seven months, maybe a year, and she suddenly 
longed for his strong, well-built body, his laughing ways, his zest in life, 
his cock. And his joy in sex. 

She was lifting her breasts in her hands, looking in the mirror, thinking 
how swell it would be if good old Brooksy opened the door, walked in, and 
grabbed her up. Man, she'd do everything with him! Everything! It hadn't 
really been fashionable to eat pussy or to suck a cock when she and Brooks 
started getting it on. But he talked to her about it very seriously, and 
even brought her a book by some European guy, a doctor, which said it was 
perfectly all right. 

And God! How she had loved it! Either way! like the doctor said, it must be 
a natural thing, otherwise, why would so many people do it that way? 

She thought of Brooks, naked and on his knees on her carpet, while she, just 
as naked, had leaned back on her couch with her legs wide apart and her ass 
pushed up to him. Not giving it to him. She was incapable of thinking of it 
that way. She was taking it from him just as much as she was giving. Just 
thinking of it made her hotter than ever. It was a part of this cunt heat 
that drove her half crazy when her husband had to be gone a long time. 

She suddenly squeezed her breasts in a fiercely sexual gesture that was part 
of her agony of loneliness, and they were so sensitive that a lightning 
burst of heat burned from them right down to her cunt. "Oh, God, baby! How I 
wish you were here!" she gasped. "Man! Would I ever give you the works! Suck 
you, baby! And fuck you, too!" 

She heard little Rocky slamming drawers in her room, and had to smile. She'd 
had to argue a little bit with Brooks about naming the kid Raquel. But 
Raquel Welch had been getting all that publicity, all through her pregnancy. 
And she had hoped that the baby, if it were a girl, would grow up to be 
beautiful and famous. If she'd known everyone would call her Rocky, maybe 
she might have thought up a different name. But what the hell! Rocky was a 
real good nickname. And, if the kid was a little bit feisty at times, and 
inclined to think she was big enough to make her own decisions, well, it 
added spice to her life. 

She closed her robe hastily as Rocky's bedroom door banged. Damn good thing, 
too, for here she came, barging right in. 

"Hi, Mom!" the blonde child said. Every inch of her slender but burgeoning 
body seemed alert and alive. Her breasts, which had blossomed almost 
overnight, it seemed to Sheri, were small and hard, and almost half nipple. 
Sheri's heart swelled. Her kid, a woman! Incredible! 

"Hi, baby," the mother answered. Hell of a note that a girl christened 
Raquel should be so blonde, but what can you do? "Are you okay?" Sheri asked 
idly. 

The slender young chick turned big blue eyes innocently on her parent. 
"Well, I'm not knocked up, if that's what you mean," the girl answered 
pertly. "But I'm trying!" 

"Hush, you idiot," her mother said and laughed. "You'd better be glad you're 
living today. If I'd said that to my mom when I was your age," and she 
raised her fist, "Pow! Right in the kisser!" 

Rocky snuggled against her mother's warm, firm body. "You always smell good, 
Mom," she murmured. "And have you ever got the boobs!" She pressed her young 
face in them. 

For the tick of a clock, Sheri was perturbed, thinking that her little 
daughter was much too advanced, sexually. But then she thought helplessly: 
She's human. She's my daughter. I can't remember when I wasn't interested in 
my pussy! 

"Thanks, honey," the mother whispered, holding her child to her. "You'll 
have nice ones, too! Are you going out?" 

Rocky started. "Oh, hell, Mom! I came in to tell you something. You know 
that newspaperboy. He's coming! What I mean," she giggled, "he's in the 
building, hustling subscriptions. Mom, why don't you take the paper? You 
said last night you hated to stay up so late to hear the news! Please, Mom?" 

"Get out of here!" Sheri said good naturedly. "I know what you want. He's 
your friend's brother and he's too cute to live. Isn't that what I heard you 
telling Sandy?" 

Little Rocky danced away, laughing, and stopped at the door. 

"You better believe he's cute," the child said. "But he's too shy to live, 
too. But if we took that paper, maybe he'd notice me when I'm over at his 
house!" 

She darted out and Sheri heard the front door bang. Kids! Always in a hurry! 
She felt older, just seeing how light on her feet that crazy kid was. And 
she felt crawly and wet down there in her twat. Crawly and wet and open, 
like her darned old pussy was crying for something to be stuck into it. 

Fat chance! Once or twice, when Brooks had been off on one of those horrible 
tours that never seemed to end, she'd put it out to guys she liked. But it 
wasn't worth it. 

First of all, screwing the same guy-especially if he's real good at it-over 
the years, you get used to each other. He knows where your feel-good spots 
are, and how to stir them up. And no one-night-stand guy ever gets to know 
you, to know what you want and what you need. And if they don't ask, you 
feel like a nut, trying to tell them. No guy wants to get turned on that 
he's not a good lay. 

The doorbell rang, and she took another look in the mirror. Probably only 
that paperboy. But her heartbeat quickened and the crawly itch between her 
fat cunt lips was like a little tongue of fire. A tongue! Why in hell did 
she have to think of it in that way? Whew! A tongue would feel so great, 
slick and strong, pressing up her raw, red, sensitive fuck channel, licking 
up her cunt juice. 

And with that thought there came another, just as devastating-the sensation 
of a sweet, hard cock in her mouth. All its marvelous male rankness to taste 
and smell! All that thick, soft skin to roll back with lips and tongue, so 
she could suck all that powerful-tasting stuff right off from around the 
head! OOOOHH! It was enough to make her cum, right there in her living room. 

She was at the door, now. She felt that someone was outside. She checked her 
robe. It was modestly closed, but excitement had made her nipples stick out 
like thumbs. But to hell with how they looked. They felt like one good suck 
from a guy's mouth would send pounding cum-waves blazing across her belly, 
down to her cunt. Good thing I'm not a guy, she thought. Vd have a hard-on 
like a concealed weapon sticking out down there, pushing at my robe. 

She opened the door and a strange thing happened. It was only a kid. And not 
a very impressive kid, at that. Not as tall as she was. Kind of skinny. She 
knew him, or felt she did. He surely had been around, once or twice. She 
even recognized him as the brother of Sandra Stone, Rocky's best friend. 

But just seeing him there at her door, smiling a sort of come-on smile, 
changed her entire attitude. Here is fair game. 

A kid that age had a cock. It might be no bigger than a weenie, but it was 
still a cock. It would get hard. It would shoot that delicious, slick, hot 
juice. And a kid this age was always horny. She remembered her two brothers. 
She remembered some of the stuff that Brooksy had told her about himself 
when he was fifteen. 

"We used to jerk off all the time," he had said. "We never had so much as 
seen a grown-up cunt, with hair on it. Except maybe our mom's. Or one of our 
sister's. And we didn't have all those skin books and magazines like today." 

She had had three or four shots of bourbon since lunch. It was a bad habit, 
but it relieved the loneliness. And maybe it made her just a bit more brazen 
than she'd have been, sober. And, during the fleeting second it took for all 
of this to flash through her cunt-fevered mind, she had this overwhelming 
thought: I'm going to fuck him if it's the last thing I do! 

He was opening his mouth. "Oh, hi, there, Mrs. Meredith. It is Mrs. 
Meredith, isn't it?" If he was as shy as Rocky said, he wasn't showing it. 
"I'm Jeff Stone, your Evening Tribune carrier boy." 

She stepped back. "Come in, Jeff," she said hoarsely. "I know who you are. 
Sandra's brother. Come in! I need help!" 

He followed her in and she turned away from him, going into the hall, 
turning down toward the big bedroom where she and Brooks slept. When Brooks 
was at home. The kid was following. He looked puzzled, but still smiled. 

Sheri turned to him as she got near the bed, and said in a pleading whisper: 
"Help me sit down. Oh, that's nice! You're so strong! How old are you, 
Jeff?" 

He was panting, and not from exertion. She had turned so that his hand had 
fallen on her breast, and she had swayed so that he squeezed it. Also, she 
had let the robe fall partway open. One of her tits was almost at his mouth. 

"I'm fifteen," he said. "Wow! What's the matter, Mrs. Meredith? Heart 
attack?" 

"No," she groaned. "I expect you've had some First Aid training, haven't 
you?" 

"I'm a Boy Scout," he answered proudly. "First Class. Going for Eagle Scout. 
I've got thirteen Merit Badges." 

She lay back, opening up her thighs, knowing that the robe showed them 
almost up to her cunt. "It's a cramp," she said. "Here," pointing to the 
inside of her left thigh. "It's killing me! Can you massage it?" 

She did not dare look at him, afraid the cock-hunger in her face would 
frighten him out of her bedroom. Instead, she closed her eyes, took his limp 
hand, which had dropped his little receipt book, and put it inside the robe, 
on the warm, smooth skin. "Please!" she whispered. "Oh, please! It hurts me 
so!" 

Mechanically, he began to rub, and he had some idea of massage, for he put 
real pressure into it, with a rotating motion that alternately tightened and 
loosened the skin around her cunt. 

Very casually, as though it were accidental, she raised her right arm and 
put it around his narrow hips. When he made an involuntary motion to break 
away, she held him and moaned. 

"Oh, don't stop, Jeff, it feels so good! Listen, let me get a little further 
onto the bed. Then kneel down. You must be getting your back all tired." 

He could only make a sort of whinnying noise, his voice seemed to be 
clogging his throat, and she sneaked a look at his crotch. He had a hard-on, 
a lovely hard-on, and it wasn't small at all. Not like Brooksy's. But, oh! 
Wonderful! 

He had dropped to his knees, as she had urged, and having moved further onto 
the bed, she could get her thighs wider apart. In fact, her right foot was 
on the floor, and now she knew that he could see her twat. He was panting 
like a dog, and so was she. 

"Listen, Jeff, I know you've got a sister. And a mother," Sheri said, trying 
to sound both pained and grateful. "You've seen women's, uh, these things," 
she whispered. She shamelessly took his hand and put it directly on her 
cunt, wiping his fingers up and down in the slick, explosively sensitive 
trough of her inner labia. Oh, God, she thought, help me say the right 
words! I have to have him! 

She felt his body go tense, felt his hand stiffen as if it were a cock. She 
was bursting with the need for a cum. Her clit was swollen, throbbing. Her 
cunt was convulsing for the need of something hard and solid, and she could 
feel her clear, hot cum-juices welling out and tickling down into the hairs 
around her ass-hole. She could not help what she did, with all this need and 
bodily craving joining with the few shots of booze. 

She pulled his face down to hers, used her left hand to jam his fingers hard 
into or against her spasming cunt, and opened her mouth as his came down to 
it. Somehow, somewhere, he had learned something about French kissing. After 
a second of hesitation, his tongue dipped timidly into her mouth and she was 
kissing him feverishly, letting the hard cum-waves lash in her belly, twist 
her writhing cunt so that it closed on the boy's fingers. He was whining 
inarticulately, his mouth wide open to the warm, slick strength of her 
tongue, and she could feel his body jerking while his hand rhythmically 
sluiced in and out of her thick cunt lips, deep into her flowing twat. 

He smiled at her weakly when she at last let him go. He seemed more shy, 
now, and wanted to get to his feet. But she held him, smiling at him until 
he smiled in return. And then she said: "Wow! That was a complete surprise 
to me! But you sure know how to rub a woman. My cramp is nearly gone." 

"Thanks," he answered. "Gosh, that kind of scared me. I never, well. . . " 
He paused, looking away. He was blushing. "In all my life, nothing like this 
ever happened to me." 

She let him stand up, but held his hand. The dry one. The other would be 
slick with her cum, she knew. Would he smell it? Lick it? Would he be turned 
on? 

His hard-on was gone, but there was a dark wet spot. He shot his load in his 
pants, the woman thought. It would be cold and slick, she knew, and the idea 
would make him uncomfortable. 

She sat up and held him to her. "Listen, Jeff," she whispered, "you must let 
me help you. I know what's happened. Look in that room, there," and she 
pointed. "It's my bathroom. Get the pink washcloth. And a glass of water." 

Her face was flushed and burning as she watched him go. Hot damn! This was 
better than nothing. At least she had gotten her rocks off, as Brooksy would 
say. Christ! She could fuck all afternoon and all night. She let her robe go 
all the way open and was inwardly delighted when she saw the look on the 
kid's face as he emerged from the bathroom. 

"Come here," she said kindly. "You can't go around with that stuff dripping 
inside your pants, now, can you?" She smiled at him archly, and took hold of 
the waistband of his slacks. He smiled rather feebly, but came to her. 

She did not look up as she boldly unfastened his pants and worked his zipper 
down. His cock almost blinded her with desire, it was so lovely. Not so 
enormous, but it was nice and fat. Better still, its shriveling head was 
smeared with the slick shine of boyish jism. She could not help it. She 
placed the washcloth on the bed, ran her bare hand into the soaking inside 
of his pants, and turned them out. Without a glance at him, she sucked the 
fabric into her mouth, running her mouth around it, sucking up all she could 
get of that rich, utterly male deliciousness. Although she knew it might 
frighten the wits out of him, she ran her tongue up and down on the fabric, 
then sucked again, until there was nothing left but the dampness from her 
lips. 

She was forming words to excuse herself, to rationalize. After all, he was a 
purik kid, what did he know? But an amazing thing happened. His cock 
throbbed. 

He was looking right down the front of her. Her tits were out in plain view. 
They were even bigger than usual, swollen with the sweetness and blood flow 
from her cum. Her nipples were out like small cocks. Her dark bush of cunt 
hair was between her thighs. But even so, she was grateful that he had not 
been turned off, cooled off, shut away by the display of raw sex and adult 
heat. His cock had throbbed! 

She was holding his opened slacks like a sack, with her face pressed into 
it. In the dark closeness, there was the rank smell of male sweat, of drops 
of urine not shaken off, of a boy's crotch. Even the powerful aroma from his 
ass-hole. And also in the fabric she had sucked so clean of his big load of 
semen, the same gamy tastes, the same randy maleness. 

It was a fuck-smell, so potent that her cunt swelled and throbbed, just as 
his cock had. And with that, she lost her fear, forgot all the terrible 
things that might happen if the boy was chicken, if she were caught, if she 
were charged with any of the evil things the law provides for sex offenders. 

She took his cock with one hand, very carefully, just at the base. There was 
a little ring of crisp hair around it. Only a little, so small an amount 
that it was touching, but it was also exciting. To have a boy! 

She jacked tenderly and slowly, and opened her mouth to a big "O" to suck 
that delightful peter into her mouth. It was divine, strong and tasty, and 
the skin was so loose and thick that her pointed tongue easily pushed it 
back. She ran the tip of her tongue slowly under the swelling head. She 
could feel the cord that goes right to the little slit in the glans. 

She knew that this was the tenderest, most sensitive area in the male sex 
organ, and she licked at it tenderly, but with increasing force as her cunt 
sucked together, giving her a sharp thrust of cum-need. To her great joy, 
she felt the young boy's hand on her head, gently pressing it forward. And 
another small miracle-he fucked his loins toward her face, driving his 
hardening cock deep into her throat. Anything but a cock would gag me, her 
deeply pleased mind said, and she hungrily reached for his free hand and 
pressed it hard against one of her warm, heavy breasts. 

He gripped the big tit convulsively, the pain and joy almost raising her ass 
off the bed, and Sheri swallowed as her mouth threatened to overflow from a 
gush of saliva. This made her throat muscles close on his cockhead, and he 
lunged at her with a deep groan. 

He kept her hand on the lower part of his cock, jacking the skin in rhythm 
as he fucked into her mouth, but now she took her other hand and fumbled 
blindly for his balls. 

She had seen them when she first opened his pants. Having blown his load in 
his slacks, the young scrotum was relaxed, but now it was drawn tight again 
by passion. His large, tender sex eggs were held against his engorging pole, 
and she could feel the hard length of it back of his nuts with her finger. 

She began to rock back and forth on her ass, knowing that, when his balls 
exploded their newly secreted cum into her happy mouth, she would burst with 
a responsive orgasm, just from the rub of the coverlet. And the idea of the 
cock she was sucking. She was hanging on the very edge of an almighty cum, 
and she could feel young Jeff's body tensing and trembling, when there was a 
rattle of knocks on the door, and her daughter's voice crying: "Mom! Mom! 
What's the matter? Let me in!" 

She almost choked as the boy turned and pulled his cock out of her craving 
mouth. Her cunt was juicing up a wet storm, and she was glad she had been 
sitting on her robe. Otherwise, there would have been pussy-tracks all over 
the bedspread. 

She whispered' "Fasten your pants and cool it! It's all right, hear?" 
because he looked as if he would die of fright. 

She walked leisurely to the open door into the hall, nodding at Jeff to 
follow her, and noted that he was already zipping up his fly, and his face 
looked less panicky. 

"Hold it! Hold it!" she called to her daughter. "I'm on my way! What's the 
matter? How'd this door get locked?" 

She smiled at her daughter's furious young face as she let the child in, and 
said: "My goodness, that's dumb! I must've put the night latch on when I let 
Jeff in. He was giving me a big snow job about the Tribune. Almost had me 
sold, too, didn't you, Jeff?" She was able to laugh, although there was a 
deep and frustrated ache in her vagina, all the way up to her womb. 

Rocky looked from one to the other. "What took you so long to get to the 
door?" she asked harshly. I'd swear I smell pussy, she thought eagerly. 
"Must've been pretty busy." 

"Oh, yeah," Sheri answered easily. "I was having coffee, and when Jeff sat 
down to write me out a receipt, I knocked the cup over and some of it 
spilled on the front of Jeff's pants. I told him to go in the bathroom and 
sponge it off good with cold water." 

"That's right," the boy agreed. "That's what my mom always does for coffee 
stains. Well, maybe I better finish that receipt, Mrs. Meredith. Let's see, 
I think I left my receipt book in there," and he nodded toward the bedroom, 
"when I went to clean up." 

He grinned at Sheri and she thought admiringly: You're a sharp little 
burglar! 

He got the book and his pen and came back. "It's four dollars a month," he 
said unblushingly. And Sheri had to smile. 

"All right," she agreed. "But I'm going to pay you every week. A buck a 
week, see? That way, if I don't like it, I can cut you off at the pockets 
any time." 

He gave her a funny look. Once again he seemed unsure of himself, not the 
boy whose cock had jerked as she sucked it, not the boy who had fucked into 
her throat with such courage. 

She gave him a check for one dollar, deliberately leaving it unsigned, and 
handed it to him folded. Rocky jumped up and down and ran to Sheri and 
kissed her. 

"Oh, I'm so glad you did it, Mom!" she cried. "See, Jeff, I told you I'd fix 
it for you, didn't I?" And, as the boy closed the door behind him, she said: 
"Gee, thanks, Mom. That was great. Now I can see him every afternoon when he 
brings the paper!" 

And Sheri, smiling over the dry ache in her unfucked cunt, thought: Not if I 
see him first! 

 CHAPTER TWO 

The Naval Training Center is just north of San Diego. Point Loma is next, an 
area of old but beautiful homes, many of them worth a bundle of money. And 
some of them nice, but not so rich. like the Stones' house. Two blocks over 
from Rosecrans Boulevard, which fronts NTC. 

It stood on a slight rise, and was blessed with old trees, green grass and 
shrubs on a large lot, and plenty of room. Both of the kids had their own 
private domain, with a bath between. Nancy Stone, an earthy, good-humored 
woman in her ripe, late thirties, occasionally thought it might be just as 
well if the kids could be at least across the hall from each other. No one 
could miss the fact that Sandra, at twelve, was not just an unusually pretty 
child. She was also an unusually well-developed child. Meaning, of course, 
that she was stacked. 

Breasts as big, almost, as Nancy's. And she'd been menstruating for over a 
year. Had everything a woman needed, as a matter-of-fact. So much hair on 
her pretty little pussy that some of it always seemed to stick out on each 
side of the bottom strap of her tiny bikini. And vigorously resisted Nancy's 
good-natured suggestions that she keep it trimmed. 

Which meant that little Sandy, no longer a little girl, used that fetching 
tracery of cunt hair along her upper thighs to tell the world that she was a 
woman. 

No, not the world, Nancy corrected her own thinking. Just her world. The 
boys and the girls who spent their time, as Sandra did, in sweated, 
sandy-rumped content on the beaches so near and so lovely. Because girls had 
to be impressed, too. Because girls had to have girl friends to admire them, 
to look up to them. like little Rocky Meredith. Little Rocky, a year younger 
than Sandra, but the two were inseparable. 

That was little Rocky on the phone now. Nancy had picked up the phone on its 
first ring and had heard Sandra answer on her own extension, a gift from her 
father on her twelfth birthday. And she had said: "Hi, Rocky. Sorry, Sandra. 
I'll hang up." And she had. Although, to tell the truth, she wished 
sometimes that she could listen in. Just to find out what her daughter was 
really thinking. She'd bet a good lunch it'd really be interesting. 

She would have won. 

"Hey, you sure your old lady's not on the phone?" the younger girl asked. "I 
know I'm okay. My mom's gone to the market." 

"It's okay, baby. Couldn't be any other way." Sandra's drawl was very 
sophisticated, very cool, as befitted the ranking leader of this twosome. 

"What's on your cute little mind?" 

Rocky's voice was hoarse with excitement. "Never mind my cute little mind," 
she said. "Are you ready for this? I think that Jeff's trying to get it on 
with my mother! How does that grab you? I mean it." 

Sandra held on to her pose with an effort. "Don't be nuts," she said 
tersely. "My brother's too damned shy to do anything but beat his meat." She 
whispered into the phone: "Hold it a minute," and went to the door of her 
room, looking into the living room where the phone was, then into the 
kitchen. Her mother was at the stove, her back to the girl, and Sandra 
tiptoed back after shutting her door. 

"Hurry up!" she said. "Mom's in the kitchen. What makes you think such a 
crazy thing?" 

"Got you, didn't I?" the younger girl laughed. "He'll beat his meat tonight, 
all right! Say, how does a guy's, uh, you know, his cock, how does it 
taste?" 

"Wait a minute," Sandra protested. "I didn't say I knew. If you got that 
idea, you were wrong." Her voice was wistful. "In some ways, maybe I wish I 
did know. Wow! Would that ever be heavy! Sucking a guy off! But I'm not sure 
I'd want him to shoot that stuff in my mouth. The jism, you know." 

"I know," Rocky said. "Man! I think I know what it tastes like. I think it 
tastes just about the same as my pussy. Or yours. Hey, your mom still in the 
kitchen?" 

"I'd hear her if she picked up the phone," Sandra bleated. "What are you 
saying? And why are you saying it? I think you must be out of your skull!" 

"Listen, Sandy. When I got home, the door was locked. Mom never locks it 
except at night. And she and Jeff were in there alone!" Her young voice was 
high and scratchy. 

"Means nothing," Sandy said. "If you left a pussy on the coffee table, and 
Jeff came by and saw it, and nobody was home, he'd be too timid to touch 
it!" She laughed at her imagine. 

"Listen!" Rocky exclaimed. "Just as he left, I kissed my mom. And it tasted 
like pussy on her mouth. Smelled like it, too! So-if a boy's cock tastes 
like pussy, I figure, well, you know what I figure, don't you?" Her voice 
was suddenly plaintive and shaky, like a small girl's. 

"You're ashamed to say it," Sandy answered practically. "You think your mom 
was sucking my brother's cock." 

There was a long silence, marked by some heavy breathing. 

At last, Sandy spoke, but very guardedly. "That's too much," she said. "But 
if it's true, wow! What I mean, we can make that ol' brother of mine do 
anything we say!" 

A door banged at the front of the house, and Sandra said: "Hey, I think 
Jeff's home. I'm going to play it cool. Maybe by tomorrow I'll have 
something to tell you." 

She heard her brother's voice raised in excitement, and went out of her room 
into the kitchen. He was speaking rapidly. 

"So now," he said, after a brief and friendly glance at his sister, "I've 
got everybody in that 

Building Number Eleven, in Nimitz Park. I've got eighty-three subscribers, 
altogether, and over fifty of them are right together." 

"Who'd you get today?" his sister asked. 

"Little Rocky Meredith's mom," the boy laughed. "You know, she told me last 
time she was here, she'd do it. I thought she was kidding." 

Sandy looked at him with affection and speculation. She wanted, in the worst 
kind of way, to take Rocky's news at face value. Her big brother, only 
fifteen years old, getting it on with Mrs. Meredith! Fantastic! And she 
wondered what Rocky meant and, indeed, what she herself meant, by the 
phrase. "Getting it on." Did it mean just preparing? Or doing the thing 
itself? Fucking. Sticking his pecker into Mrs. Meredith. It was too much. 

Just looking at him, thinking of how boyish he looked and acted, it was hard 
to believe. But he was good looking. And she had spied on him in breathless 
delight once or twice, when he was whacking off. Fucking his fist. Jerking 
himself off. Her breath caught in her throat and she made an odd sound. 

"What's with you?" her mother asked. "Aren't you pleased that your brother's 
doing so well? Eighty-three customers at four dollars a month, very nice! At 
a dollar-fifty a month profit, how much does that make, Jeff?" 

But Sandy, her juvenile twat working hotly, spilling her girlish flow of 
cunt ooze down her thighs, left the two of them with their figuring. At the 
door she stopped and looked back. "I'm going to take a bath, Mom," she said. 
"If I've got time before dinner. I need a good soak." 

She watched Jeff trying to keep his eyes on the paper with the figures on 
it, and saw his gaze come slowly up to focus on her breasts, then down to 
where her rounded little belly defined itself under her thin dress. It was 
working! 

She went swiftly into her bedroom, then into the connecting bath. She made 
sure that the door to Jeff's room wasn't latched. She made sure of something 
else, too. 

There was a shelf that held her scant and somewhat childish stock of 
cosmetics, along with bubble bath, shampoo, cotton balls, and other 
miscellany. She moved them carefully, uncovering a dark strip. A slit in the 
wall. She had found it accidentally, months ago. No use looking through it 
into Jeff's room. It was hidden by a picture. But she knew that when the 
picture was removed, her brother had a clear view of what went on. "He can 
even watch me piss!" she had said to Rocky, both of them wide-eyed. 

"Wow! Far out!" the little blonde had shivered at the very idea. "Watches 
you piss!" And then, doubtfully. "That doesn't exactly turn me on." 

Sandy laughed indulgently. "Of course not, silly. You've been in the 
bathroom with me a hundred times. But how would you like to watch him piss?" 

The tiny blonde pressed her thighs together, feeling a very grown-up itch 
deep in her juvenile pussy. "I don't think I could stand it," she gasped. "I 
see what you mean, though. You figure that he feels that way, watching you! 
Ooooohhh!" she choked out. "Let's go in the linen room and finger-fuck each 
other!" 

Sandy remembered all this with a shiver. She had often felt the presence of 
eyes as she bathed herself. And once at night, when she had turned off the 
light in the bath, she had seen that wide line of dim light from Jeff's 
room. And then, thrill of thrills! She had put her own bright eyes to the 
peephole and had seen her beloved brother doing his thing. Even now, so much 
later, just the thought of that first discovery gave her an inner twist of 
orgasm. 

When you're twelve years old, no matter how much hair you have on your twat, 
no matter how much weight and warmth and feeling you have in your titties, 
you're kind of limited to what you really know. Thoughtfully, she began to 
undress. 

Nancy Stone didn't worry about Jeff. He said he had "just a little bit of a 
headache," and that he wanted to lie down. "Maybe even take a little nap." 

"Go ahead, my dear," she said. "It's hours until dinner." 

And here he was, his heart beating like a bongo drum, his latent hard-on 
warm against his thigh. 

His head had been in a whirl all the way home. It was so unbelievable! He 
had never seen a cunt at close range. He had seen his mother's, by one 
accident or another, many times. And after he had become aware of Sandy's 
development, he had made his own means of observing her. Although he had had 
a very bad feeling about it. It wasn't befitting a Boy Scout. To spy on your 
sister and jerk off. 

But now, all of that was changed. 

Maybe he wouldn't even go for the stupid Eagle 

Scout rating. Part of the Boy Scout Oath was "to keep myself mentally alert, 
physically strong, and morally straight." Jee-zuss! If he was going to be 
sticking his hand into ladies' cunts, and having ladies put his dong in 
their mouths, why shit! How the hell could he go on with that kid stuff? If 
he fucked a lot, it might affect his mind. He'd heard that too much of it 
would sap your strength. And if you kept on wanting to fuck your sister, 
just as you did other girls and women, well, that blew the "morally 
straight" bit, didn't it? 

God, he could still taste that cunt flavor on his fingers. And it was like 
it had been so thick, when he practically had his nose in Mrs. Meredith's 
crotch that just the smell had caught in his nose. Riding home on his bike 
had seemed impossible. His cock had been so hard he couldn't straighten up. 
A couple of times, he had almost given up and gone into a service station 
washroom to beat the juice out of his meat. But the thought of combining two 
lusts, two separate fires of passion for two separate females, had sustained 
him. 

He was very quiet, going into his room. And extra quiet when he bolted his 
bedroom door. Not that he was still convinced it was so disgraceful to bring 
that jism up and out in a hard, wonderful explosion. God, that felt good! 
That book by old Whatshisname-who was it? Doctor Reuben? Yeah-said that all 
the bullshit about jerking off was just that. Bullshit. Even old guys did 
it, and it was good for them. 

But he sure as hell didn't want mom to come in and catch him peeping at his 
beautiful little sister's beautiful little body and all its lovely parts. 

He deftly removed the picture which hid his peephole. Good! Sandy had all 
the lights on! He hoped she would be as slow and careful as she had been the 
last month or so. Wow! What a show she put on! 

He was as silent as a ghost as he undressed, all the way. 

His cock was hard, or almost. It hadn't been any other way for hours. He 
looked in his dresser drawer for Vaseline. There was a jar of cold cream. 
The same kind Sandy used. He loved it because it smelled like her. With cold 
cream, he could prolong a fist-fuck longer than with spit or Vaseline or 
anything. But when he rolled the foreskin back, there was a delicious scent. 
He had smelled it before and never dug it too much, but now it had a 
difference. He had smelled Mrs. Meredith's pussy, and it was very much the 
same. Rank, like between your toes. A good sort of sour smell, like dad's 
favorite cheese. What was it? Liederkranz? Yeah. And that ripe cheese tasted 
like it smelled. From now on, he was going to eat it all the time. 

He touched his finger to the slick, hot part of his cock just below the 
flaring red head. It was kind of wet. He smelled it and tasted it. He had 
been so right! It was almost exactly like the smell and taste of Mrs. 
Meredith's cunt. 

He groaned with pleasure and softly stepped over to the slit in the wall. He 
would leave his cock just the way it was. No cold cream, no Vaseline, not 
even any spit. He put his face to the wall, and had to hold on to himself to 
keep silent. 

Sandra Stone knew she had a pretty good body for a kid her age. What she 
didn't know was that it would have been spectacular at any age. But she did 
know that she loved it. And, in spite of the fact that she openly put her 
brother down, she adored him. And he loved her body, too, which made her 
ecstatic. 

With senses honed razor keen by plan and anticipation, she had heard him 
enter his room. She knew he would undress. When he watched her and jerked 
off, he had been naked. At least the times she had seen him. So she timed 
it, and even heard the very slight scratching sound as the picture came down 
off the wall. 

She had been waiting for this. She had on her bra and panties. The bra was 
something she'd just put on. She knew, somehow, that men like to watch a 
woman get herself naked. 

As she took the brassiere off, and it was a slow process, she deliberately 
felt first one breast, then the other. It gave her a marvelous feeling, but 
she wished in her heart that it might be a boy who was caressing those 
sensitive globes. The nipples turned very dark as they rose and hardened, 
and she pretended to examine it carefully, holding it to the light. By 
making an effort, bending her neck until her back hurt, and pushing up on 
her full, firm young tit until it hurt, she got the nipple in her mouth. Not 
really enough to do any good, but she was almost certain that she heard a 
gasp, and a slow, barely audible sound as if Jeff had shifted his body. 

She turned her body around and looked in the mirror, smiling at her 
reflection. If Jeff guesses I'm smiling for him, she thought, I'll be glad. 
This exhibitionism was getting her pussy hot, getting her hot all over. 
Having no other specific boy in mind, she identified with the near one. Her 
brother. 

She put her foot up on the rim of the tub. She turned away. She was close to 
the slit in the wall, so she knew that Jeff would be conscious of the dark 
triangle of her pubic hair, and of the streaming, crawling lips in the 
red-veined slit under it. When she had shown herself in this position as 
well as she could, she turned her back, rolled her panties down, and let him 
have a good look at her bottom before she turned back facing him. She was 
sure, now, that she heard a noise like hard breathing, but more like a low 
musical tone. He's moaning, she thought happily. He's out of his mind! 

And then, to aid her brother escape from whatever reality was plaguing him, 
she held her thick, soft, juicy cunt lips open and turned directly at the 
slit in the wall. 

Girls quite often make a peculiar error. On dates with some guy they don't 
completely dig, they will permit the poor fellow a number of liberties with 
the rather mean notion of getting him so hot he has steam shooting out of 
his drawers. And, of course, with no idea of working the juice out of his 
balls by any method. Hand job, blow-job, or an old-fashioned fuck. 

But they forget one thing. What they do, or permit being done, to overheat 
their intended victim very often overheats them, too. Thus, having helped 
the miserable dupe to create an intensely nerve-taut hard-on, they find 
themselves unable to resist guiding it into their sweet and tender cunts. To 
the intense wonder and delight of the man who hardly dared ask the girl to 
go out with him. And who certainly never dreamed that she would so avidly 
push her pretty little loins, her open and juice-spilling pussy, her 
yearningly pouting cunt lips up to his dirty old cock. It is this strange 
error, or rather its culmination, which leads girls to hate themselves. 

Not that Sandra Stone felt she was being mean. Nor that she wanted to be 
nasty or selfish or thoughtless. She did, in honest fact, love Jeff. But she 
was so heated, so curious about her girl friend's odd story that she wanted 
to see how quickly she ' could force-or, at least, help-her brother to the 
point of jerking his cock to a spurting, throbbing orgasm. 

But her own heat betrayed her. 

As she fingered her lovely, juicy young cunt with such loving care and 
precision, she visualized her brother's cock. She had seen it as he whacked 
himself off. It was a lovely, heart-touching, cunt-tingling, mouth-watering 
sight. 

She saw her sweet young pussy in the mirror. With all the lights on, and so 
many mirrors, every blood-filled vein in every achingly happy convolution of 
her inner lips was plainly visible. And lusciously sweet. If she had been a 
contortionist, she would have plastered her young mouth between those fat 
and hairy cushions and sucked herself into a fury of sexual delight. 

And her throbbing little clitty-button, leaping and jerking frantically 
against its paper-thin covering of membrane, she would have--OH, GOD! her 
mind cried. OH, GOD! 

She was hardly aware that she was sinking to the floor. The thick rug 
caressed her firm, sleek young buttocks, and the soft fibers tickled her 
writhing cunt lips into a gorgeously wild nightmare of sensuality, a cum 
that rolled out of her convulsing vagina as her plunging fingers tried to 
reach clear in to her belly, clear up to the dark, hard-muscled womb, to 
drag the orgasm out. 

In the brightly lit bedroom where young Jeff was trying to control the grip 
of his hand and the length of his stroke, the sight was almost too much. He 
had wiped his reeking fingers on his lips when he first had left the 
Meredith apartment. He had renewed it by tasting and smelling the residues 
of his own flesh, fresh from under his pinkly wrinkled, swollen foreskin. 

When lovely little Sandra had rolled her chaste panties down, he had nearly 
gagged as he pictured himself kissing between those softly muscled 
ass-cheeks. He saw the protruding lips of her cunt, saw them as plain as 
day, and they seemed to be making a kissing motion at him. He let go of his 
cock, afraid he would shoot his load in barren and unreasoned fuck-itch 
against a cold plastered wall. 

He had not realized that women were made that way-as easy to get a cock into 
from the rear as from the front. He had, in his lower dresser drawer, a 
number of the most brilliantly colored magazines portraying the most 
explicit acts of sex. In an odd way, he was much more sophisticated than his 
sister. His shyness came from natural causes, of a sort which re-emphasize 
the fact that the male ego is directly connected to cock and balls. 

The fear of failure, i.e., of not fucking well, whatever that might mean. 
The fear of being refused, which even the most innocent boy intuits will be 
traumatic. And last and most painful of all, the fear of being laughed at 

But, as far as knowing what's happening, and all the time in every block and 
almost every home in America, he knew far more than Sandra. Or, naturally, 
than little Raquel Meredith. But in one important avenue, he knew less, a 
great deal less. For he did not have the faintest idea that girls had the 
same fuck lust as boys, an even deeper desire to prove their maturity by 
getting their little pink fuck holes opened by a hard-thrusting cock. 

He did not even know that girls could really cum, even if not in the exact 
way boys did. His own cock was so hard, so near to bursting, that he was 
transfixed, standing rigidly to forestall the wrenching beauty of an orgasm 
gained too quickly. He saw his sister, in all her full-fashioned beauty of 
swollen tit and shapely, satiny ass, of pinkly dripping cunt lips thrusting 
out between the hairy softness of her young pussy, fall to the floor. In 
what seemed to him to be a fit, for he had no idea that an orgasm could so 
shake a female. Knowing only the austere sharpness of a jerk-off, the truth 
escaped him. 

What saved him from a premature ejaculation that would have put enough paste 
on his bedroom wall to support new wallpaper was the panic that his sister 
might be endangered. He forgot his nakedness, the sweated warmth around his 
balls, the taboo against "older kids" sharing each other's ultimate privacy 
of warm ass and warmer crotch. He loved Sandra, and her face had been locked 
in a grimace of pain as she sank below the rim of the bathtub. 

In the whirling, steam-hot fog of the most terrific cum she had yet known, 
an adult reaction in her Junior Miss vagina and all her cuntal area, Sandra 
became gratefully aware of the saving presence of her brother. 

She was cumming, as she later confided to Rocky, all over. She was raising 
and lowering her beautiful young legs, feeling that, somehow, this would 
pump the unbearably lovely sensation out of her hard-spasming cunt. She was 
in a delirium of very high fuck-fever, and a naked brother, kneeling by her 
trembling, wildly aching breasts was only a sweeter part of her dream of 
lust. And his fantastically large, hard, red-tipped cock was simply the 
lovely little prize in this hot-fleshed carton of sexual Crackerjack. 

As in a dream, she caressed it, her passion-glazed eyes not even looking at 
his strained, frightened young face. And then, as if her young body knew far 
more about fulfillment than her untutored mind, she pulled the boyish prick 
at her wetly shining mouth, where her pink tongue coiled in anticipation. 

In his own cataleptic shock, with the raging load in his young balls 
sidetracked and short-circuited by a fantasy suddenly come to life, Jeff 
felt that every nerve in his body was more alive than ever before. He 
smelled cunt, he saw cunt. He also saw the blue-veined softness of his 
sister's tits and belly, the lush and aphrodisiac plenitude of her cunt 
hair. 

As her legs flew up in her abandon to the explosion of orgasm in her cunt, 
her ass and thighs looked twice as large. And the young pussy, stretched to 
its utmost limits, looked a foot long, with its vaginal portal of bubbly 
pink flesh and membrane seeming to move in a mute plea for love. 

When he had creamed his jeans at Mrs. Meredith's, it had been wonderful, 
since it was so far removed, esthetically, from the hard and lonely release 
attained by the rough clasp of Mrs. Thumb and her four daughters. Now, in a 
half-realized wet dream, he had it all-a lovely, nubile female with all of 
it laid out for him, a warm mouth sucking his cock with closed-eyed and 
fuck-happy desperation, an open cunt to penetrate, a lovely ass to dig into. 

The force of his starting orgasm seemed to wrack his entire reproductive 
system. It hurt far back of his balls, deep inside in the dark and gluey 
mysteries around his rectum. The shaking beauty of it drew his hand to his 
young sister's very mature cunt, and he got his long middle finger into it 
as her legs swept up. 

She was still in the gut-twisting fervor of an enormously adult orgasm, and 
his finger, the taste of his cock, its soft but aggressive crowding in her 
mouth and throat, all acted to create a series of reruns up and down her 
cuntal programming. Even if she were, in a sense, removed to another world, 
she was conscious of every detail, even to the curling hairs that tickled 
her nose as she flung herself on this spurting cock in her face. Her 
brother's deeply prodding finger seemed as big as her dreamed-up visions of 
a male cock, although her common sense told her that the plunging meat she 
was gargling was far larger. 

Some deep instinct kept her holding the boy's cock as she sucked it into her 
throat, wrapped her tongue around it with such warm, spit-slick muscularity. 
With a fierce, age-old joy, she now knew the taste of the sweated male penis 
and the hot jets of the richly slick, utterly wholesome seed which she was 
swallowing, tasting, deeply enjoying. And, she realized, this large organ 
which so boldly pumped her sibling's protein-rich and delicious load of 
semen into her, served another purpose. Without it, she would have been 
unabashedly shrieking out her girlish joy at this weird, wild, beautiful 
experience. 

Her lovely young body was slick with sweat as the mighty storm of orgasm 
passed. She did not open her eyes. She was too afraid that she had 
embarrassed her brother, or that she had reacted in a crude and ignorantly 
childish way. She could not know that, just as she was, with her brother's 
sperm in stray drops at the corners of her mouth, with her young tits 
swollen almost to lovely bursting from her sex detonations, with her 
deliciously girlish twat gone wetly slack in reflex pleasure, she was the 
most beautiful sight that Jeff would ever see. 

He was jelly-legged with fear, with post-coital shock, with the frantic 
conscience of the sated rapist. 

As best he could, he moved to escape. But Sandra held his cock, shaking her 
head. There was a beatific smile on her face. She did not open her eyes, but 
somehow she saw in her mind what was wounding her brother. 

"I won't look," she whispered. "I don't know what happened. Is anyone else 
in here with me? Of course not! This is all just a dream. I'll let go of my 
dream-peter, and my lovely dream will float away. But first, since I'm 
dreaming of someone I love, is it all right to kiss a dream?" 

She moved the hand on Jeff's wilting prick, a finger testing the thick 
coating of delicious fuck-slime on all its length. She let her fingers stray 
in a warm exploration to his balls, and sucked in an amazed breath at their 
size in his hairless sac. 

"So kiss me," she whispered, and the boy, remembering the hot pleasure in 
the tonguing kiss he had often heard of but never experienced until today, 
leaned down, his skinny butt high in the air. 

But his young sister, still trembling from the unaccustomed shock of such a 
soul-shaking orgasm, whispered: "No! Get down by me. On me!" and tugged at 
him so that he lay down, his face just above hers, his warm, boyish chest 
smashing her right tit into a jellied flatness of ecstatic pain. 

His tongue went into her sweet-breathed mouth. She was a fraction of a 
second behind him, and he knew, with a deep pride that he was being the 
teacher, that her knowledge of such hot kissing was theory rather than 
experience. In his peripheral vision, he saw the slow rise and fall of her 
gorgeously adult breast, hard-nippled, heat-swollen, and he brought his 
right hand up to squeeze it in a lovingly cruel grip. 

Then, as his cock throbbed once again, and the cunt vapors swirled up to 
crowd his nostrils and set his saliva to flowing, he pulled away. He wanted 
more. He wanted to kiss her snatch, to tongue into her flowing cunt as he 
had tongued into her wet, slick young mouth, but he still held the inner 
coldness of tribal fear. He had transgressed. He had fucked his sister. 
Well, not exactly fucked her. But he sure as hell had squirted his cum into 
her. 

She was still smiling, with closed eyes, as he left. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

It was a couple of hours after dinner that Jeff, sorting out various papers, 
money, and change in his pockets, discovered that Mrs. Meredith had not 
signed his check. 

At first he was annoyed. "I'll have to go by there again," he muttered 
crossly to himself. And suddenly, like in a cartoon strip where a light bulb 
glows in a balloon above some turned-on character's head, an idea warmed his 
mind. She did it on purpose, his mind said, unbelieving. She wants me. She 
wants to do that again. 

He had recovered from his inner storm. His mother, startling him by saying 
his nap hadn't done him any good, that he looked positively haggard, had 
finally gotten off his back. And Sandra, on her way next door to study with 
a friend, had stooped swiftly to leave a wet little kiss on his cheek. 
"Don't worry," she had whispered. "Nothing happened! Nothing at all!" And 
she had made a furtive stab with one hand into the region of his lap, 
feeling for the cock she now knew so much about. 

He was learning a lesson which would not solidify for a good many years: 
That conscience and its fears are ninety percent of the dread of being found 
out. Once that shadowy anguish is ameliorated, the main stab of conscience 
is that conscience itself is so infirm. 

He was not much of a mixer. He was known as "a good kid," which was faint 
praise. It meant that he had no really close friend. No one disliked him. 
But no one sought him out. Which was dreadful, for he had no one to share 
his feelings with. Or to swap experiences with. 

He got a bit of a hard-on, and wished it were feasible to go to Mrs. 
Meredith's right then. Boy, he'd like to walk in and take it out and wave it 
in her face! Wow! But it was late. 

He turned in early, and fondly stroked his young cock up to a peak of 
throbbing expectancy, but when he thought of the steamy sweetness of his 
sister's young body, the warm resilience of her breast, the flooded depths 
of her hot little cunt, he almost wished he hadn't even started to jerk off. 

"Some day I'll stick it in her cunt," he muttered gaily. "And I'll fuck her 
and fuck her and fuck her!" 

He remembered, as if it truly were in a dream as Sandra had postulated, the 
delicate feel of her soft fingers stroking his balls, pressing near his 
ass-hole. And he remembered the sight and feel and scent of her delightful 
little cunt. "As much hair on it as mom's," he said aloud. "Maybe as much as 
Mrs. Meredith." 

He had had almost a handful of Sandra's cunt drippings when he had crept 
back into his room, and he had carefully scraped the slick, clear liquid 
into a little dish. It had almost dried away, but there was a gelid lump to 
lick up. And, as the combination of all the real, the remembered, and the 
hoped-for came together in his mind, his cock grew in his hand, the hard, 
lovely pain swelled the red head as the jism shot up and out, and he stroked 
hard, pumping it all out, wishing it were all going into the prick-hungry 
mouth of his sucking little sister, or into the bigger, hotter, more 
voracious chops of Mrs. Meredith. 

He wiped up the traces of his expended semen. He grinned, thinking how many 
times his mother must have found little spots around. Or dried puddles from 
his frequent wet dreams. Perversely, with more daring than might have been 
expected, he had wanted his mother to question him about them. So he could 
question her. And he grinned at his former naivete, when he had seriously 
wondered if a "nice woman" like his mother would know about such things as 
wet dreams. Or even about semen. 

As he got into his pajamas, remembering the incredible warmth and slickness 
of the two mouths that had held his cock all on this one day, he was 
wrenched by a shattering thought. 

"They probably all do it," he muttered. He thought of "all" of them, 
including that little Raquel who thought she was so damn smart. And of 
wrinkled, kind, homely Miss Seeger, his sixth grade teacher whom he had 
loved, and against whose boobs he had buried his face once, in a moment of 
fear, when she had held him. And the good-looking black lady at the dry 
cleaning place. Would thick black lips feel better on his cock? Or the hot, 
slick lips of a black pussy, would they feel better? 

And inevitably, as he had known he would, he faced a fact that was not easy. 
The fact of his sweet-faced mother, with her softly feminine mouth, sucking 
some guy's prick. It made him shudder. Even when he amended it to his 
father's prick. It's very hard, life is, he thought bitterly. And fell 
asleep. 

It was not too much different for Sheri Meredith, some ways. She, too, 
wished that the paperboy would come over at once. But Rocky was at home, and 
it was bad precedent to chase a kid out on a school night. 

She prepared them an excellent dinner, because she was a dedicated cook, and 
then told Rocky she could watch TV until ten if she did her homework. 

She had put on a warm nightgown of sprigged cotton flannel, and that kid, 
Jeff, had left her a copy of today's paper. Brought it back from his bike, 
grinning at her. Little devil! 

She had a couple of jolts of Southern Comfort. She liked a sweet drink after 
dinner, before bed, but most of that stuff was fifty or sixty proof. Good 
old Southern Comfort, with its hundred proof alcoholic content, had the 
authority of the very best bourbon. And still looked sort of, well, classy. 

They had a freezer, one that Brooks had picked up for a few bucks from a 
Chef in the 

Commissary. It was old-fashioned, and shook like a Ford fender when the 
motor was on. It had two other features which pleased Sheri. The sides, when 
they reached the top, curved over so that, at the corners, the wide rim of 
stainless steel was a softly beveled roundness. And the "heat exchange," as 
Brooksy called it, was carried out in pipes around the top, which made a 
warm, smooth corner, exactly the height of the top of Sheri's cuntal split. 
Smooth, warm, and it vibrated when the motor was on. And just exactly 
cunt-height. It had made life far move livable for Sheri Meredith, and it 
saved her sleep on this lovely night in early autumn. 

The more she tried to read the paper, the more she thought of that sweet 
little kid with the big, rich-tasting cock. She thought of the thick, slick 
seed she had sucked out of his pants, and the lovely savor of what had been 
left to cool on his dick. And every thought made her cunt ache deeper, her 
mouth drool more copiously. 

This huge old element in Navy Housing where the Merediths lived was built 
when labor and materials were cheap. For a mere hundred and thirty-four 
bucks, they had more room than they needed. And down at the far end of it, 
in an unused bedroom, where old mattresses and bookcases and crates of stuff 
that Brooksy had picked up on various Far East stations were stored, there 
was the old freezer. 

Sheri smiled mechanically at Rocky as she went down the hall, and her child, 
just as mechanically watching the fourth rerun of a monster movie, did not 
notice. 

She was panting with stored-up fuck-heat as she unlocked the door to the 
storage bedroom, and was in too much of a hurry to lock it after her. She 
was pressing the flannel nightie into her plumply cushioned cuntal mound and 
almost groaning with desire and anticipation as she went quickly to the 
freezer. 

There was still warmth in the corner where she would press the cleft of her 
sex. But the motor was not running. Cursing under her breath, Sheri flipped 
up the top lid and turned the temperature gauge to its highest. The motor 
chugged on at once, and she sighed in weakness and relief. 

She edged up to the friendly machine with her thighs apart, and gratefully 
rubbed her expanded, nerve-tight clitoris on the smooth, warm corner. It was 
as good as a cock! Better, in many ways. It never failed her, for one thing. 
Even Brooksy couldn't always get it up. And the quiet sound of the motor, as 
it furnished that fantastically affectionate vibration against the top inch 
of her cunt, seemed very much like a husky, loving voice whispering: "Ooooh, 
baby! I love your pussy!" 

She began to orgasm within five seconds after she pressed the raw and hungry 
nerves of her slit against the smooth, warm, gently tingling corner. Now 
that she was in exactly the right spot, she braced her hands on the rounded 
rim of .the old box and gently moved her sex-shaken crotch over it. If she 
worked it right, She could keep on cumming and cumming for a long time. Over 
and over and over. Some day, by God, she'd warm a big sausage-maybe one of 
those small, hard salamis from the deli-in hot water and try this route with 
the hard sausage stuck in her twat. She could stick it deep in her, and 
grind it with her cunt muscles as the freezer's warm vibrations fired the 
cum-gun that centered around her clit. 

She felt her vaginal fluids trickling out of her puffed-out cunt lips and 
smearing down her thighs. She shut her eyes, loving the deep sensation in 
her guts, almost a sickening pain, but so damned wild, cock-biting lovely. 
She could hear herself saying: "Oh, fuck me, lover! Fuck that big old thing 
deep into my cunt! Bust me open, big boy! Fuck me hard!" 

Usually she ended each such sentence with a name. Brooksy. But not now. And 
she knew why. She was thinking about that kid and the rank sweetness of his 
darling little old peter. Not that it was all that little. "OOOH!" she 
groaned. "Oh, blessed Jesus!" It was almost a scream, and she ground her 
spasming clit against the hot metal that felt so smooth through the 
flannelette. 

She moved back but stood still for long minutes, letting her legs get their 
strength back, arms still holding her braced. 

She let out a sigh that was almost a grunt, lifted the lid of the old 
appliance, and turned the temperature regulator far down. Immediately, the 
motor stopped as though it, too, had had all the sex, all the love, all the 
orgasms that it could stand. 

The draining of her sexual tensions, the good meal, and the gentle glow of 
the high-powered liqueur gave Sheri the best sleep she had had in a month. 
She awoke rested, happy, looking forward to the day. 

With Rocky in school for the day, she decided she would clean the big 
apartment. She had to figure some way to get her daughter out of the way 
during the afternoon, since that boy, that lovely boy with the man-sized 
cock, would surely come by to get her signature on the check. The thought 
gave her a warm, squirmy feeling in her pussy, and the sense of leaking cum 
juice. She had a wad of Kleenex in her robe, and spread her legs and reached 
between her legs to sop up the flow. The friction of the tissue on her open 
cunt lips gave her a dry shiver of pleasure. She wished the damned clock 
would hurry around to three o'clock. 

She was not surprised when the doorbell buzzed, but she almost fainted in 
happy surprise when she opened the door and saw young Jeff Stone. 

"I can't believe it!" she gasped, but she fairly reached out to pull him 
inside. "Why aren't you in school?" she demanded. 

"Well, uh, you see," he stammered. "It's Thursday. We're on staggered 
schedules at Point High. My first period's over, and I don't have another 
until after lunch. So I'm doing a little work on my route." He flushed and 
looked away. 

It was clear to Sheri that something was wrong. Just being fifteen was a 
tough thing, sometimes. But with her mother heart, she knew where to start. 
She pulled him into the bedroom and sat down, holding him between her 
thighs, hugging him with her face on his lean young belly. 

"You wanted to come here, but you were afraid," she whispered. "Isn't that 
so?" 

He did not answer, but placed his hand on her head. She nuzzled her face 
against his body, and had a sniff of his boyish crotch fragrance. What could 
he be afraid of? And she remembered some of the many things Brooksy had told 
her. About himself. About all boys. Afraid of authority. Of grown-ups. 

She h id not been free of cunt heat for a minute since she had woke up. She 
wanted to comfort the boy, but she wanted the boy's prick to comfort her, 
even more. She made up her mind. 

Without looking up at him, without saying another word, she began to loosen 
his belt, to run his zipper down, and then to pull his slacks and shorts 
down in one motion. If he was, in fact, afraid of grown-up authority, she 
was safe. In any case, so great was her need that she had to see his cock, 
to feel it, to gobble it into the red, hungry throat that was swilling her 
saliva as it poured out. 

When she felt his cock in her hand, when she smelled the rank incense that 
rose, invisibly, from his crotch, she felt a rush of confidence. The young 
cock was not only fat and rosy, it was also very obviously getting bigger. 

She simply opened her mouth and sucked it in, and loosened her grip around 
his body so that he could fuck it into her as he had yesterday. 

She was dressed in her costume for cleaning house, a pair of stretch-denim 
shorts, white nylon briefs, an old shirt of Brooksy's, and sneakers. As she 
held the base of his cock with one hand, softly sucking him up, moving her 
head back and forth lightly, she unfastened the shirt buttons. It was only 
then that she let the hardening peter slip out of her mouth to look up at 
the boy. 

He was smiling, but still unsure of himself. 

"Don't you like this, Jeff?" she asked, shaking his cock gently, licking her 
lips to keep them slick. "Do you want to feel my boobs?" And she squeezed 
one big tit out in a cone. 

"Oh, yesss!" he cried, and then: "Are you sure it's okay, Mrs. Meredith? Is 
it really all right if I do things like that? With you, I mean?" 

She got up swiftly and shucked herself out of the tight-fitting shorts and 
out of her underwear. "Let's get that shirt off of you," she said, and 
helped him as he wriggled out of it. 

"We've got all the time in the world," she said, as levelly as she could 
manage, considering her sudden burst of sex fire. "Raquel won't be home 
until nearly three. My door's locked. No one can get in. I want this," she 
said, smilingly squeezing his cock. "Does that answer your questions?" 

She dropped on her knees, taking his cock again and holding it up to her 
lips. She looked up at him. "How many times can you cum in five hours?" she 
asked. "Or do you really know?" 

The boy began to laugh and to thrust his skinny loins at her face, so that 
all she had to do was to open her lips. The young cock still had the rankly 
appetizing flavors as it had on the day before, and as she sucked the 
softness-plus-hardness of loose outer skin and trembling inner muscle, she 
felt a quiver of impatient hunger in her pussy, away up inside, wrinkling 
the folds of her vagina, running a wild itch down between her sensitized 
cunt lips. 

It changed her plans. 

With a sharp burst of activity, she arose and fell on the bed, dragging Jeff 
with her. "I've got to know how that lovely cock of yours feels inside me," 
she gasped. "In my cunt! Here! Get between my legs! Did you ever fuck a 
girl-a woman? Really fuck one?" Her voice was hoarse, her heart beating a 
wild tattoo. 

He was between her strong, beautiful thighs, really looking right into a 
mature cunt for the first time. He licked his lips and held his cock in one 
hand. "No, ma'am," he said in a whisper. "I never did, but I will. Can I get 
it in down there?" And he rubbed his other hand up and down her split, in 
the juice-pouring inner labia. 

"Let me have it," she crooned. "Put your hands up by my ribs. Lower your 
body." She was faint with excitement. She could feel the gush of her 
cum-fluids, and she wiped the boy's prick up and down between the lips. Not 
to get it lubricated. There was enough cunt oil there to slick the entrance 
for an elephant cock. Just for the deep, gut-churning feel of hard, hot 
meat. 

She pushed the throbbing tool down to where its head hit the tight aperture 
to her body. "Now," she whispered. "Push. Easy. OH, BABY!" In spite of 
herself, she pumped her ass up and down, her cunt swallowing his cock 
between its hairy lips as she pumped up, releasing the cum-slicked young 
peter as she went down. 

It was glorious. "It feels so big!" she whispered. "Am I tight enough for 
you? Does it feel good to you?" For his pleasure and surprise, she worked 
her trained cunt muscles on him. 

He shivered in her embrace, his head to one side as his cheek pressed the 
upper part of her tingling breast. 

"Wow!" he whispered. "It's so good I can't stand it! It's tighter than-I'll 
bet it's the tightest anywhere." His small ass moved tentatively from side 
to side, and she felt the warm, slippery wipe of his cock on the juicing 
sides of her pussy. He was pressed against her, too, mound to mound, and she 
felt the pressure through the thick lips which covered her clitoris. He 
didn't know it, but it was a wonderful feel for a woman to get. 

She made her inner muscles move very softly, and when he groaned: 
"OOoooohhh!" she whispered: "It's your great big cock that makes me do 
that!" 

He raised his head to look at her, vastly pleased. "Do you mean that?" he 
asked. His interest in himself made him forget the treacherously begging 
urge in his cock-nerves, and he very proudly, like a real little man, fucked 
in and out of her. A natural, genuinely male reaction. 

His cock touched the hard slickness of her cervix, and she moaned with a 
deep pleasure. "I don't want you to cum until you want to," she said. "Are 
you all right now? When you stuff that big old peter of yours into me, does 
it feel like you're about to shoot it?" A flicker of muscle-kiss in her twat 
made him jump. 

"Naw," he said. "I think I'm okay. Gosh, Mrs. Meredith, why don't we-why 
don't I-just go ahead and cum? OOOOHHHH! Jesus!" He lay his head down. "I 
know I shouldn't swear," he said contritely. 

She hugged him firmly, and reached around and over his slim buttocks to 
where his boyishly hairless balls clung to his pole. She kissed him on the 
cheek, laughing softly. "You can say and do anything to me that you want to, 
Jeff," she said. 

"Anything. I want us to be-well, comfortable with each other. Can you think 
of any words you might be afraid to say to other people? What are they? 
Cunt, cock, fuck, prick, ass-hole, balls? You can say them to me!" 

She kissed his cheek again. "These are your balls," she whispered, caressing 
his drawn up testicles. "Sooner or later, I'm going to have them in my 
mouth. I'm going to suck on them, and run my tongue over them. Ohhhh! Boy, 
you really speared that cock into me! I'm so full of fuck-juice that I'm 
getting it on your balls!" 

He now put his arms around her, under her back. He was very strong for such 
a skinny little boy. Her breasts were getting the loveliest sensation, being 
warmly smashed by his chest. And oh, Jesus! How he was slamming his young 
cock into her! 

She realized that she was automatically fucking back at him, with as much 
gusto and freedom as she did with her husband. That was odd. She'd not done 
that with any other man. 

"Oh, baby!" she moaned in his ear. "That feels so good! You're fucking me so 
good, so deep!" She was letting her body go, letting it follow the demands 
that came from her redly swallowing cunt rather than from her mind. "Ohhhh, 
Ohhhh, Ohhhhh!" she groaned in deep happiness and content. "OHHHH! FUCK ME 
HARD, OH, MY DEAR! FUCK ME HARD!" 

She had both hands around his small, hard buttocks, pulling him into her, 
using her strength to smash him down on her mound, to make sure that every 
teeny bit of his hot, hard cock got in, in as deep as it would go. She knew 
she was cumming, could feel it start somewhere around her clit, heard the 
feeling echo deep in her guts. But time was magically stretched. This moment 
would last and last. It would be a long time before the flaming need burst 
inside of her and flowed out of her grasping, flowing cunt. 

She was conscious of every tiny fraction of her body. And of the boy's. It 
was crazy to think so, but she could feel his sweat where it met hers, 
between her breasts. 

"Can you reach my boobs with your mouth, doll?" she asked hungrily, 
continuing to fuck with the grace and abandon of a woman happy in sex. "Can 
you get my old tit and suck it?" And she let go of one hand to push her 
aching breast up to where his mouth was panting, but he reached it. He was 
lost in heat, just as she was, but the arching back, the strained neck could 
not keep him from exerting a gorgeously painful suction on her swollen 
nipple, so that long-unused milk ducts in the softly living tit-flesh seemed 
to creak and break open. A lightning thrill of pain and heat, a long flash, 
a long throb, and then he was screaming: "OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! HELP ME! HELP 
ME! OH, I'M CUMMING!" And she could feel the hot, wet, sticky squirts of his 
jism, so powerful that they seemed to distend her vagina. 

She could no more have stopped fucking than he could, and she was ripe for a 
torturously beautiful orgasm, her inner body feeling blown entirely out of 
shape with the cum-pressure. But she hung on, wanting to feel his long, 
hard-throbbing gusts of semen flowing so warmly in her already overflowing 
cunt. She seemed to feel each separate hair on her belly, around her 
ass-hole, and the insides of her thighs glowed with the heat from his 
exhausted young body. 

He was still blindly plunging his cock into her, and the friction on its 
painfully sensitized head must have been terrible, Sheri knew. She cried: 
"No, Jeff! Stop! Let me cum! OH! OH, MY GOD! AARRGGHH! AAARRRGGGHHHHHH!" It 
was marvelous. She could not entirely control her body, but her vagina was 
now so relaxed from her orgasm, and so super-slick with his semen and the 
rich juice from her cunt that his cock would not feel rasped or over-used. 

They lay in each other's arms, and Sheri was amused to realize that she was 
panting as hard as if she had been cuntally plowed by her beloved Brooks. 
Why not? she thought. The little devil gave me as good a fuck as Brooks. 

She patted him along his back and eased him off. Right now was when he would 
need a bridge to get from this instinctive act, back to the usual inanity of 
human communication. He had rolled on his back, covering his eyes with one 
hand, and she rolled to him, kissing him gently on the mouth. "You were so 
nice, Jeff," she whispered. "You did it so good! I can't believe you never 
did it with a woman before." 

In a manly voice, he said, after a gulping try failed: "You were good, too, 
Mrs. Meredith." 

She rubbed all over his crotch, his dick smeared with the sweet slime from 
her cunt, his young balls now lying slack in his scrotum. "After we have a 
Coke or something hot, I'm going to suck this, like 

I was doing yesterday. Before that silly kid of mine interrupted us." 

His body jerked, and he said, in a worried tone: "Hey, it must be sort of 
late!" 

She kissed him again, laughing. "I told you, Rocky won't get home until 
three. Or almost three. And it isn't even eleven, yet. But of course, if you 
don't think you can cum again in that time, we can forget it." She squeezed 
his young penis, thinking how delightful it was going to taste. 

He sat up and gave her a long look. "You really think it's not wrong to do 
this?" he asked. 

"For you and me to fuck?" the woman answered, watching him flinch at the 
horny old Anglo-Saxon word, and then seeing something happen to his face. 
Courage. Acceptance. Something. "If you mean because of my husband," she 
answered simply, "no. Not at all. He's away seven months to a year. He's a 
strong, healthy man. I know he gets his fucking. A lot more than I do, you 
can bet on it. But I'm a strong, healthy woman, and I need it, too. Would 
you believe this? I don't do an awful lot of fooling around. It's not all 
that good, most of the time." 

He looked strangely grown up, sitting with his head down, looking at the 
coverlet. He shook his head. "Whew!" he said. "I see something I never saw 
before. It's not just guys that get horny. Women do, too. How about girls?" 
He still didn't look up. 

Sheri still had her hand on his cock. "A girl may not need it quite in the 
same way a boy does," she answered. "They don't have balls to swell up with 
jism until you feel like you'll pop. But it's a need with them, just the 
same. Only with them, it's worse, in a way. It's mental. They want to be 
able to think: 'I'm sexy. A boy wants my pussy. He wants to stick it in me.' 
" 

The boy drew in a deep breath and blew it out so that it was a soundless 
exclamation. "Girls how old?" he asked. 

Sheri pondered briefly. She felt a longing to really help this kid who 
obviously had no one else to talk to. "Do you know anything about how, well, 
when a girl, as they say, becomes a woman?" she asked. "Does your mother 
use, uh, well, does she have a box of Tampax in her bathroom? Do you know 
what they're for?" 

He looked at her and grinned. "I've known about them all my life," he said. 
"In a sort of a way. I used to think she shoved them up her, up, uh, another 
place." 

Sheri slapped at him good naturedly. "Be easy with me," she said. "Shoved it 
up her ass. Why not say it? Well, so you know about menstruation. Your 
sister uses them too." 

"For a couple of years," he said. "So that's when they get to wanting it?" 

"A girl might want it any time," Sheri said. She felt a deep, pleasant 
tickle of cock-need up inside, and stroked on the boy's sticky cock a little 
harder. "But she needs it when she grows little breasts, and gets hair on 
her little pussy. like I was telling you. To think she's wanted." 

He thought for some time, and at last leaned back, braced on his arms, 
intently watching her pumping the soft skin up and down on his cock. At last 
he asked: "Rocky? How about her?" 

Her cunt was now getting all its old fire back. The feel of this young boy's 
beautiful peter, the certain knowledge that she was going to suck it deep 
into her throat, was enough to make her ovaries swell as hotly as her cunt 
lips. 

As if in a dream, she said: "What? Rocky? Oh, yeah." She laughed. "She won't 
be home until three." She remembered that she had not had a drink all day, 
and didn't want one. She rolled off the bed and went down the hall and into 
the kitchen. 

She was back in a couple of minutes with two big glasses. 

"I made us a thick shake," she said. "Is chocolate okay?" 

They drank the rich, thick mixture, and Sheri thought: He doesn't know it, 
but there's a couple of eggs in this stuff. She knew that raw eggs do 
nothing for a man sexually, at least no more than a similar amount of 
nourishment, but she wanted this lovable young kid to strengthen himself. 

When they got through, he looked at the clock, and she said: "Grab your 
clothes and come with me. I don't want you worrying." 

"She wrote out a note: "ROCKY-GONE SHOPPING. HOME SOON. MOM" and taped it to 
the front door. "She's got her own key," she said. "That was a bolt I had on 
yesterday." 

He followed her, his mouth watering at the sight of her firm ass, the wealth 
of hair hanging down from her cunt, and the beauty of her strong, shapely 
legs. 

When she took him into the storage bedroom, the one with the freezer, he was 
tickled with the way she locked and bolted the door. Now, she said, "unless 
you really yell when you cum, a person in the next room couldn't hear us. So 
let's get it on." 

They lay down on the spare mattress, and since it was warm on this sunny 
side of the apartment building, young Jeff said: "Hey, this feels good. I'm 
sorry I was nervous. Hey, can I look at this?" and he stroked his hands 
between the richly furred lips of her cunt. 

"I told you," she said huskily, "that you can say or do anything you want to 
me. You want to look at my pussy, okay, look at it." She kissed him and lay 
on her back, spreading her thighs wide apart. "You want my legs up or down?" 
she asked. 

He crowed like a baby, but she saw his cock, and it was anything but 
babyish. "Can you really raise them up?" he asked in a choking voice. 

He moaned in pleasure as she threw her knees back, resting against her 
shoulders. It made her bottom go up, so that her cunt was pointing right at 
the ceiling, and she giggled, thinking of how it must look to a young kid. 
He leaned close, and she realized that he was inhaling the musky sweetness 
of her heated, well-fucked twat. 

She almost screamed in joy as he put his finger deep into her flowing, 
squeezing warmth. In this position, her cervix was only a couple of inches 
from the entry, and his finger hit it solidly, rubbed around it, felt of the 
closed slit that opened once every full moon to rid her body of the unused 
blood and cellular shelter no longer needed for the vanished ovum. 

"Finger-fuck me, Jeffie," she whispered. "Oh, baby, that feels good! Do you 
like it? Do you like to look at a pussy?" 

He rasped: "It's too much! It's beautiful!" And then he made her heart leap 
with hot joy. "If you suck me, is it okay if I suck you?" he blurted. "I 
mean, it looks so great! And I've heard of guys, uh, eating pussy!" 

She humped herself up at his face happily, feeling the creeping swirl of 
fuck muscles moved by inner pleasure. "Yes," she said softly. "Suck me, 
Jeffie!" 

He was too gingerly with his mouth and tongue, so she tugged at his hair, 
laughing. "Come on, Jeff," she kidded. "If you've heard of it, you know it's 
called going down on a girl. So, go down, baby! There! That's it! Dive into 
it! Wow! OHHH! Suck harder, sweetie! Ohhh! Man! That's it!" 

Any touch, at this point, had to hit a hot spot, she was so near to bursting 
with a pent-up cum. She moved her ass expertly, making sure to wipe her cunt 
against his face as he was moving down, and getting her bubbling, frothing 
fuck hole up to him if he pursed his lips to suck. And she let him go, 
because she was in no hurry to cum, and she wanted this slick, sweet 
adventuring in her open pussy to magnify and stiffen his young prick. 

He gave one final lick, and it happened to go right up the vein-reddened 
trough of her inner labia, digging into the wild sensitivity of her clit. 
She clamped her thighs around his head convulsively as the rolling burst of 
cum-fire blossomed in her throbbing pussy. It was reactive, she could not 
help it, and she held him there as she screamed over and over: "OH, BABY! 
SUCK ME 

OFF! GET IT, BABY! SUCK IT OUT OF ME!" and as the wave receded, letting her 
come back to earth, she rolled onto him, opening her twat over his face, and 
he, as much dazed by fuck-lust as she, kept licking and sucking at the raw 
and trembling clutch of cunt flesh and membrane. 

"I never knew how many good things a guy could do with a woman," he gasped, 
but now he looked directly at her. "Any girl could do that, if she had tits, 
and hair on her pussy. And had that other thing. I forget. Men-something." 

"Menstruation," Sheri whispered. "Listen, a girl could get fun out of that 
if she was only eight years old! Or eighty," she laughed, reaching out to 
him. "Did you like that? I'll bet that's something you never did before. Or 
thought of." 

He giggled. "I never did it, but I thought of it. And I've seen pictures of 
guys doing it. Did I do it all right? I don't know just where all those 
things are. like your clit-Oh-ris," he said. "Did I hit it?" 

She pulled at him. "You hit it. Now, look at your peter! Just got so big and 
swelled up that I don't know what to do about it!" Her breath was heavy and 
rapid. 

He turned toward her, hunching his ass so that his beautiful cock, hard, red 
tipped, was punching into the softness of her breasts, up along the sweated 
smoothness between them, going toward her hungering mouth. 

"You know what to do with it," he said. "Suck it!" 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

There was a great and swelling feel of satisfied lust in her sensitive, 
appreciative pussy when she finally finished cleaning the apartment. There 
was a marvelous soreness in her throat, too. How that little devil had 
slammed his cock into her mouth, and what a pleasure it had been when he had 
screamed out his young fuck-madness as his milky seed had poured so richly 
into her mouth. 

What a taste! What a perfectly unmatchable treat of delightful richness, the 
slickness of whipping cream, the high heat of a young boy's semen-charged 
balls. 

She took a sponge and fondly mopped up a rather large smear of drying jism 
from the coverlet of her bed. She leaned down to sniff at it, and it, too, 
had the raunchy beauty of cunt and cock mingled in its heady perfume. It 
made her shiver, but she muttered, with a secret grin: "I ought to be able 
to get by until tomorrow. I've really been fucked!" 

She remembered his questions about girls, and about women. How had the 
damned time gone so fast? "I wish I could spend ten weeks with you on a 
desert island, baby," she hummed. "Damn! What a song that'd make. Especially 
if the chorus told all the things I'd like to do with that kid's prick!" 

He had promised to come back the next day. "Not for all this long," he had 
said, lying there with his cunt-wet lips shining, his playful fingers 
rummaging warmly in the folded sweetness of her sloppy-loving vagina. "But 
long enough for us to have a little of this good old stuff." And he had bent 
and kissed her solidly and suckingly between the puffed out lips of her 
tenderized cunt. "It's better than melted ice cream," he groaned. 

But he came back sooner than either of them expected. 

"I left my receipt book," he said, blushing. "This time, I really did leave 
it," and they found it together, down on their knees by the big bed. 

They were there together, facing each other, when Rocky came in. They had 
not heard the click of the lock as the child came in. Perhaps Sheri had left 
the door open when she had, so surprisingly, found Jeff there. 

Even so, it was lucky she had come in when she had. They had been kissing, 
deep, cum-flavored kisses that nearly wrenched the tongues from their 
mouths. And she had taken the boy's cock, which was fat and large in his 
slacks, and in another moment she would have been sucking it. It was 
embarrassing enough, anyhow. 

"Oh, hi, there, dear," Sheri said, and she knew her voice didn't sound 
normal. "Jeff left his receipt book. We were looking for it." She realized 
that the truth sounded, even to her, like a completely contrived alibi. When 
she got to her feet, she was warm all over, and knew she was blushing. 

She got the paperboy out of the apartment as quickly as she could, and with 
no conversation with Rocky. The young girl, her face a smug mask, said 
nothing. 

In fact, she went about her usual after-school business as though nothing 
unusual had happened, tossing her books on her bed, going to the bathroom, 
and helping herself to a Coke. But in a few minutes, she said: "Listen, Mom, 
I promised I'd meet one of the kids down by the little store. Okay?" 

With all of her body warm and tingling from the long session of sucking and 
fucking, Sheri relaxed. Her guts ached with pleasure. She had never expected 
such a thorough, hard-pounding fuck from a little kid. 

She remembered his questions about girls needing or wanting to be fucked. 
And when she had said they did, his other question: "Girls how old?" It gave 
her a warm feeling, a response to a sucking motion she felt deep inside her, 
far up her cunt. God, how she had craved a cock when she was Rocky's age! 

For just a fleeting second she wondered if this boy with the hard and manly 
prick had his eye on little Rocky. Certainly, he noticed things about his 
sister. And little Rocky and his sister were together a lot. It would be 
funny if she and her daughter, by some freakish quirk of the imagination, 
had their pussies throbbing and juicing for the same guy. Only it wouldn't, 
not really. 

She was relaxed on her big bed. She was unaware of the smell of cunt. After 
all, she lived with it. And she was just feeling so good, so drowsy. Rocky 
was off some place, on her own affairs. Maybe a little nap would go good. 

If she had looked out the window, she might have realized that Rocky, 
although certainly involved in her own affairs, was not where she had said 
she'd be. In the service yard, taking a short cut no more than ten feet from 
the bedroom window, Sandy Stone, her brow knitted, mouth pursed, was heading 
her way. 

The dark young girl, so much more mature in breast and thigh and buttock 
than Raquel Meredith, went directly to an unmarked door down the hall from 
the Merediths'. She knocked, waited, knocked again. An excited, wet-lipped 
Rocky slipped a bolt and let her in. 

The management of Nimitz Park is civilian. Employed by the Navy. Part of a 
large group who are buffers for the push-and-shove which exists wherever 
seniority and a rigid pecking order cause conflicts. But these people have 
their own emotional shelters. People like Sheri Meredith, whose husband had 
more, far more seniority than any other family man housed in the same 
building. Therefore, Sheri had certain rights. But she also had certain 
responsibilities. One of them was the linen room. 

It is a big, open room, with deep shelves from floor to ceiling, and with 
pile after pile of simple, rugged, medium quality sheets, pillow cases, 
towels and other house linens. There is a schedule for when each apartment 
may take linens, but the schedule is flexible. A key hangs outside the door. 

It's a sort of honor system, arranged by Sheri Meredith. 

"I don't want to have to run to the linen room every time some kid wets the 
bed and his mama needs new sheets," she had told the administrative person 
who gave her the key. "I'll leave the key by the door. Who is going to steal 
Navy sheets?" 

The administrative person, a Grade-14 clerk with twelve years of Civil 
Service time, quickly agreed. "Take it in with you at nights," he said. "And 
over weekends." 

It had been a marvelous secret meeting place for Rocky and Sandy, ever since 
they first became friends. A place for perfect privacy, a place where they 
could do-and say-the most outrageously human things in complete safety from 
eavesdropping, accidental or planned. 

The smaller girl, almost out of her mind with repressed excitement and a 
need to spill her news, hugged Sandra passionately. They kissed, a long, 
hard kiss "swapping spit" as they called it, since they enjoyed the raunchy 
sound of it. Their young tongues squirmed together until Rocky pulled away. 
She looked at her older chum questioningly. 

"You've learned something new about French kissing," the blonde child 
declared. "Where'd you learn it? Who with?" 

Sandra was noncommittal. "I don't know what you're talking about," she 
demurred. "What'd I do?" But she smiled. This was going to be great. 

For answer, Rocky grabbed her again, forcing a kiss on her, digging between 
the older girl's lips with her pointed tongue until Sandy let herself go, 
rubbing her young body very hard against her friend. Her tongue was curled 
like a snake, wrapping around the smaller girl's. They were both panting. 

"God, that's getting me hot!" Sandy gasped when they broke apart. "Wow! It's 
one thing to practice until we can get some boys to do it with us! But 
that's making my cunt itchy. I'm not going to be a Lesbian!" 

Rocky continued to hold her friend, staring at her, their warm little 
bellies together. "You always say that," she said. "You just like to say 
'cunt'. And anyhow, we can be bisexual without being Lesbians. Any fool 
knows that!" 

In great good humor, the taller of the girls stroked her hands warmly down 
over and under the little blonde's pretty little ass. "Sure," she jibed, 
"any fool who has a friend who tells her about such things." 

For just a second, anger stirred the tiny girl, but she grinned at last and 
retorted: "Keep talking like that, and I won't tell you what's new!" She 
walked over to a corner of the big room, bright from the sun that shone in 
at a huge window, and began to pull off her dress. 

"Come on, baby," she said. "Let's get naked. I feel like I've got twice as 
much hair on my snatch as I did last week. You can look at it. And I'll look 
at yours." 

Sandra squealed. "No, not until you tell me what you mean," she cried. "And 
you'd better tell. 'Cause I've got more real stuff than you ever could have! 
And won't tell unless you do!" 

They giggled together, peeling clothes off, and when they were completely 
nude, they placed all their clothing, shoes included, near the window. 
"Because if some nosy old bat comes around knocking, and goes for Mom, we 
can always go out the window," Rocky giggled. "And lay the key on the floor 
when we come back in." 

They hugged each other again, enjoying it more because of the sensitivity of 
their firm, gently lust-swollen young tits, and Rocky aggressively thrust 
one of her little paws directly into the juicy cleft between her friend's 
cunt lips. 

"Baby," she marveled. "You're really ready! I'll bet some guy could get his 
thing into you real easy!" 

They lay down in a bin which held pillows, but only after they had shaken 
out a rough-dried sheet to make them a super-soft bed. 

They lay together in quiet accord, but their hands were busy. And they 
continued to kiss, from time to time. At last Sandra spoke, and her young 
voice was thick and adult. 

"You really have got more hair," she said. "And a hell of a lot more juice 
out of that little old baby cunt of yours!" 

The little blonde with the tiny but perfectly shaped breasts was hunching 
her small hips up toward Sandy's finger. "I'm about to cum," she said in a 
harsh whisper. "I mean it. Go on, Sandy. Finger-fuck me a little more. 
Please! Put in two fingers!" 

She was sweating with her need and their activities, but she fell back as 
her friend's voice broke on her bemused ears. 

"I'm going to suck you, baby," it sounded like she was saying. But that 
couldn't be. Could it? But it was true, because Sandy said it again. "I'm 
going to suck you out. Eat your pussy!" 

Rocky began to whimper. "Is it all right, Sandy? Can you do that? Is it 
because I said that fool thing about not being Lesbians?" Her eyes were 
wild, her sweet young face set in strangely grown-up lines of lust. But she 
lay back readily as the larger girl gave her a gentle push, looking at her, 
laughing. 

"It's all right, Rocky. Honest. But I want to find out something. Something 
you were, well, forcing on me yesterday. I want to know. And then-then, 
baby, I'll curl your hair!" 

She snuggled down, grunting, pushing pillows aside, getting a couple under 
the little blonde's slender haunches. Her heart was beating as if it would 
shoot right out of her throat, but the gamy scent coming up from the tiny 
girl's virgin twat was gagging her with her own excitement and the young 
cunt's promise of sweetness and savory juice. She made a sound like a brand 
new foal trying to whinny, and closed her eyes before she went down on her 
little friend's open and dripping little pussy. 

Strangely enough, considering her innocence, she seemed to know what to do. 
Rocky was feeling a blast of feeling all through her immature body such as 
she had never known before. She wanted to scream, to say: "Oh, my darling! 
That's better than anything I've ever had!" But she was mute. It was 
sacrilege to compare this intimacy, this love, this feel with any of the 
crude and childish sexuality she had known. 

Instead, biting her lips to keep from screaming, she fixed her clawing 
fingers in Sandra's hair and locked her strong and beautiful young thighs 
around the head which was pressing into her most intensely erotic spot. 

The locked legs drove the older girl's mouth deeper into the tiny, almost 
hairless pussy, but she sucked eagerly. It was wonderful of Rocky to do 
this. Left to herself, she would have had to break the contact lest she be 
called bad names. Now, and this was so marvelous, she could not get away. 
She had to keep sucking the gamy, lumpy flow from her little friend's cunt. 

She felt an aching tremor in her own loins, a rub of fired-up cunt lip on 
its matching twin, a darkly beautiful release of muscle and juicy flow deep 
in her cunt. In my vagina, she thought proudly, feeling the equal of her 
mother, of Mrs. Meredith, of any other woman who ever walked the earth. Last 
night, she had willingly, willfully sucked her brother's cock. That was 
crazy, and she'd been far-out lost in sex-space. But she'd done it. And now, 
with a girl, even if it was an old friend and a little kid, she was going at 
it again. SUCKING! 

She was searching with her tongue for the tiny little hole at the base of 
young Rocky's slit. She had had her finger in it enough times. She knew 
every slippery pink fold of that little-girl pussy. And now she knew-it 
tasted like hers. It tasted like what Rocky had described on her mother's 
lips. And it tasted like the rankly stirring, sexually beautiful flavor of 
Jeff's hard young peter. Even a little like his cum. 

She felt the tiny body under her grow stiff, felt the small but powerful ass 
whip up and down, and heard the gasping shouts from above her head. 

Even though her ears were partly closed by those smooth, warm young thighs. 
"WOW! OH, WOW! FUCKFUCKFUCK! SANDY! IT'S CRAZY! I'M CUMMMMIIINNNGGGG!" 

She sucked with fury, making young Rocky's lithe and slender body contort 
itself even more wildly, until at last the younger girl subsided. Her legs 
relaxed, and Sandra, her face smeared with the juices that flowed with such 
adult generosity from the childish vagina, fell forward on her little 
friend's smooth belly. Her own genitals were throbbing with a fierce need, 
but she was emotionally exhausted from the ferocity of her act. 

"I kept thinking of it, and I kept thinking of it, and I had to do it," she 
gasped. "I don't care what you say, or what anyone says. I did it, and I'm 
glad!" And, very unexpectedly to herself and to young Raquel, she began to 
cry. 

The little blonde, whose achingly sensitive pussy was still almost melting 
with the hard, joyous release of the best and strangest cum she had ever 
had, reached down to paw at the naked shoulders of her best friend. By 
wriggling her own taut little body down, and at the same time hauling 
Sandra's body up as best she could, she was at last able to put her face 
against that of the quietly sniffling dark young girl. 

"Come on, baby," she whispered. "Cut out that crying shit. What's to feel 
bad about?" 

"Oh, I don't know," Sandy sobbed. "It just seemed so right, and I wanted to 
try it. But now I'm scared!" But she turned her face to the blonde child's 
and, when Rocky eagerly kissed her, she made a joyful little sound and 
worked her mouth very hard, all over Rocky's, her tongue fiercely sucking 
away at the other girl's. 

"Wow! And wow again!" Rocky said in an awed way. "I've stuck my finger in my 
pussy a million times, and smelled it and licked it. But it never tasted 
this good!" She ran her little pink tongue wetly all around her lips and 
kissed Sandra again, this time more gently. "Why would that be?" she asked. 

Sandy had stopped crying. "I guess it's because you're getting more grown 
up," she said, unable to keep up a show of penitence in the face of this 
opportunity to teach and train. "When we were little, our pussies had very 
little smell or taste. Just like we couldn't smell grown up under the arms 
until we had hair, right?" 

Rocky, whose ardent young body was enjoying the smoothness and warmth of her 
friend's body, made a snuggling motion and stroked one of Sandra's full, 
taut young breasts. "Yeah, I guess that's it," she said. "But listen, kid, 
are you through crying? Because, hey, don't you want me to suck you out, 
too?" 

She immediately began to suck on the breast nearest her, more than delighted 
to feel her friend's body leap in pleasure. 

At the same time, she quietly searched between their two young bellies, 
pushing her fingers through the elegant, curly mop of dark hair on Sandra's 
twat, eventually getting the end of her index finger in the slippery 
beginning of the girlish slit. 

"Oh, my God, Rocky!" Sandra gasped. "Go easy! I got so HOT!" and she 
screamed the word, almost frightening the younger girl. "I got so hot," she 
whispered, "when I was, uh, sucking you, that I almost popped my pistol. Oh, 
baby! Take it easy! Shove on down, but r-e-e-a-a-l easy! OHHHH! I think 
you're right at my clit! Can you feel it? Ooooohhhh! That's so good!" 

She wiggled her cute, indubitably maturing ass from side to side, and made a 
hard thrust at her friend's finger. 

"Ooohhh!" she gasped. "Are you going to finger-fuck me? If you are, sort of 
turn around, so I can look at your sweet little old fuck hole while you're 
doing it! Ohhhh! Wow! That's nice!" She thrust again, and Rocky's finger 
slipped into the lubricated hole of the dark girl. 

The small blonde released the nervously throbbing titty from her mouth and 
laughed deep in her young throat. "You just bet I'll turn my ass around for 
you, baby," she said throatily. "Have I got a thing going for you!" 

There was a pleasant rubbing of warm, nubile young bodies as they heaved and 
reversed, and Rocky said: "Go on, Sandy, start playing with my pussy. And 
everything you do with mine, I'll do with yours!" 

She eagerly pulled the beautifully molded thighs of the older girl apart. 
There was a wealth of warm, throat-clogging musk steaming up from the parted 
cunt lips shining redly in the softly crinkled hair. "Geez, Sandy, you 
oughta see your clit," the little blonde breathed. It's so big! And it's, 
uh, like, sort of twitching!" She tenderly pulled the thick, warm lips apart 
and looked down to where wet, pink bubbles of slick membrane made a closure 
to keep out dust, and light. But not cocks or fingers. Or tongues. 

She was waiting, her throat feeling very tight, her saliva glands filling 
her mouth so that she had to swallow repeatedly, when she felt an electric 
tingle in her young cunt. Still sensitive from the wonderful cum her friend 
had given her, she had an involuntary reaction which slammed her open and 
tenderized cunt directly into Sandy's face. At the same time, she boldly put 
her mouth directly over the dark girl's vaginal aperture, sucked as hard as 
she could, and tried to sink her tongue right into the place her fingers had 
explored so often. 

There was a loud yell, seemingly of pain, right into her own split, and she 
felt the vibrations of Sandra's scream like the intense feeling of an 
electric buzzer. 

The taste of Sandy's pussy, so much like her own, and the intensely stirring 
aroma, so exactly like what she had smelled in her mother's bedroom today, 
sent a hard thrill of life all through her body. It seemed to start in her 
mouth, where she was sucking and tongue-lashing the loose, marvelously slick 
folds on her friend's cunt. The slickness and savory richness were almost 
too good to swallow. But they created a feeling in her belly, too, and in 
her small but beautiful young titties. And finally, in a fiery trace across 
her belly, into the vital depths of her girlish cunt. 

She wished she could say: "Oh, Sandra, baby, my friend Sandra, my love, my 
lover, my best friend ever, ever! I thank you so for this day, for this 
taste of being a woman, for this proof of being grown up!" The swelling of 
the vein-reddened rosette of inner cunt lips seemed to move in her sweet 
young mouth, seemed to swirl and retreat and kiss at her as she was sucking 
them. She wanted to shout that they were better than heaven, and better than 
boys' cocks, which if she had truly known she would have preferred. But 
nature kept her sucking and kissing and licking, as so many, many young 
girls have always done in their first plunges into rejection-free sex. 

She felt Sandy cumming simply because she felt herself being uplifted from 
wet heat, black and swelling heat inside her cunt, from deep up it, around 
her girlish little womb. It seemed weird to her to have a womb, which her 
mother had told her about during her first little barely-bloody period, only 
a couple of months back. But she was glad she had one. Glad she was a woman. 
And some day, to have a man's hard old peter sticking into her pussy, 
gouging at her guts, making her cum. Just as this black moment of joyous 
delirium was rending her young loins again, giving her a twistingly, 
achingly beautiful cum. 

But she was having such a wild one because she could feel the crazy spasms 
cumming in her more developed friend. I wonder, she thought in the secret 
dark of her mind, even as she was firing one orgasm after another in Sandy's 
crazily sucking mouth, if it feels better when you've got so much hair on 
your pussy, so much, even, that it's all around your ass-hole? 

The rapid throbbing and drawing of her cunt in its orgasm, the flowing of 
juice that came out of her from Sandy's cunt as she sucked, told her that 
she was doing exactly as her friend was, that her shocks of bursting lust 
were as big, as good, as sweet. And as deeply satisfying. 

She felt the writhing muscles of Sandra's back and buttocks begin to 
slacken, just as she felt her own intensity begin to lessen, to fade into a 
full, richly warm glow all through her body. But I still want to kiss her 
here, Rocky thought. We kiss on the mouth all the time. This is so much 
sweeter. 

She kept her thighs open around Sandra's head, and was not conscious that 
she was raising and lowering her ass and her cuntal area in a pantomime of 
fucking. It just felt good, that was all. And in a rhythm that exactly 
matched the shaky thrust of her relaxed loins, she was licking up and down 
the drooling pink split, caressing the shapeless and unmarked spot where the 
retreated clitoris had stood so hard and trembling. Her down strokes lightly 
touched the hole which was gently releasing more and more of the clear, 
warm, fragrant cunt oils. Without any feeling of lust, only of deep 
affection, she was cleaning up this sweet overflow. Her cunt's so much like 
mine, the child thought. More hair, but just like it. Tastes like it. Smells 
like it. And like Mom's too. That smell. So great to be one Of the world's 
tender sisterhood. 

She had a brief, but shocking thrust of understanding in her heart, a deep 
and innate knowledge of why Sandra had cried. It was because Of that same 
deep descent into the well of female understanding, of loving women but 
needing men, and of being both bait and trap, of being sentenced by nature, 
and of having this girl-on-girl joy as an escape hatch. 

After they were dressed, which would have been done very quickly except for 
their kissing and patting and looking and sucking on each other's swollen 
young breasts, they unlatched the door. The sheet they had lain on was 
refolded and put back. The pillows that had given their girlish lusts a soft 
bed were fluffed out and rearranged. 

"You didn't tell me," Rocky whispered, stroking her hand down over Sandy's 
voluptuous young butt, "do I or don't I have a lot more hair on my snatch? 
And aren't the lips thicker?" 

"You're so sweet," Sandra giggled. "How do I know? What do I care? You'll 
never be any more grown up than you are right now. Your cute little old 
titties are just so much like mine were, about a year ago. But you know what 
I think? I think if we keep on doing these things," and she drew in a deep 
breath, "we're both going to have bigger, fatter pussies. And bigger, 
prettier boobs." 

She thought for a minute. "We were kidding about telling each other some 
things. And then we got to playing around." 

Rocky raised an eyebrow. "Didn't we, though!" she agreed. "Ooooh! I'm glad 
we did! Now we can do anything! Ooooh! You sure made me cum like a rocket!" 

Sandra squeezed the lovely little blonde sprite. "I guess we were bound to 
do that, sooner or later," she said wisely. "We started by looking at each 
other, and then feeling, and then finger-fucking. And then French-kissing." 
She shrugged and smiled. "I'm glad, because now, I can tell you everything 
that happened to me last night. If we hadn't, I couldn't," she added 
cryptically. 

She told Raquel all about it, every last word. 

"You mean you've always known he peeped at you?" she asked. "I know you told 
me he did, some of the time. like he saw you taking a pee for yourself. Wow! 
And you were fucking yourself with your finger? How come?" 

"I got so hot," Sandra confessed. "Thinking of him watching me, looking at 
my cunt, my boobs, all of it. Whew!" And she let out a deep breath. "So 
while I was holding it open so he could see it, it got to be too much. Just 
too damn much!" she said with emphasis. "And when I started to cum-well, you 
know how it feels. Legs go rubbery, eyes close. You know!" 

"And you let him shoot off in your mouth? Wow! That's pretty heavy! Oh, God, 
kid!" The little blonde wriggled all over in her excitement, her tiny cunt 
beginning to clasp and release, letting girl-juice flood down her thigh. 
"Did it, uh, taste like I said? Smell like it?" 

Sandra looked at her little friend thoughtfully. "It was a whole lot like 
what you described when you kissed your mom," the dark girl said. "His peter 
tasted just like we do. Smelled like we do. And his jism-UUUNNNHHHH!" and 
she grunted like a pig, hunching her young ass involuntarily. "It was so 
thick! And so slick! But it didn't smell like us. Not really." 

She was gasping and panting, and little Rocky put an arm over the older 
girl's shoulder. "If mom's asleep, or gone to the market," she whispered, "I 
think we can find out something for sure. Come on!" 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

It was something of a shock to Sheri Meredith to awake from a half-asleep, 
half-awake period of dozing and find that her daughter and Sandra were 
fooling around in her bedroom. "Sniffing around" would have been more like 
it, she realized, once she was fully awake and had rolled off the bed. 

Of course, since she herself was permeated with the smell of sex, and since 
the source of the invisible but powerful miasma of cock-and-cunt was on her 
lips and cheeks-and, more to the point, between her legs in the humid area 
from navel to ass-hole-she would be less sensitive to it than the girls. In 
fact, she was mystified by their actions. 

But she was essentially a good mother, a good-natured adult, and a woman 
conscious of the demands of hospitality. So she said, after a sleepy, 
smiling greeting: "You kids must be getting hungry. Let's get you some nice 
little snack, shall we?" 

Unconsciously, Raquel ran her little pointed tongue around her lips. And 
Sandra, with the rich, gamy taste of the younger girl's pussy still fresh in 
her mouth, had to choke off a gut of explosive laughter. Sheri hadn't seen 
the action of her daughter, and couldn't possibly have understood if she 
had. She simply equated Sandra's burst of mirth with the silliness of 
teenage girls. So she patted her daughter's friend on her dark head and went 
into the kitchen. She was still drowsy, full of a warm sense of completion, 
and happy in the remembrance of that unbelievable paperboy and his 
unbelievable ability to fuck a grown woman so long, so hard, so 
satisfactorily. 

But Rocky, as soon as she had left, pulled her friend over to the bed and 
dramatically pointed to a darker spot on the coverlet. "It's still damp," 
she whispered. "That's what we were smelling when mom woke up." 

"I don't know," the older girl said doubtfully. "It sure is a fucky kind of 
smell, but I can't tell if it's jism or not. How wet is it?" 

She knelt on the bed and pressed her hand hard on the dark spot. To her 
amazement, a shine of some liquid appeared as she pressed down. She gasped, 
and little Rocky whispered: "What is it, Sandy? Get some of that stuff up 
and let me smell it." 

The dark girl, though, took her time. She lifted her hand carefully. The 
shine of liquid still remained, and she bent to sniff at it. The 
characteristic smell and taste were much stronger than when she and Rocky 
were simply acting as bloodhounds, from a distance. She pressed into the 
center of the damp area once more, but this time she ran the back of her 
thumbnail through the drying goo, and held up her hand. It was thick and it 
was not quite a clear liquid. It was opaque, milky white. 

To make certain, she tasted it with her tongue, then licked it up, rolled 
her eyes, and said huskily: "That's it. That's cum!" 

Rocky pushed her friend away and bent her face to the spot where Sandra had 
scraped up her evidence. "It's just like what I smelled and tasted on mom 
last night!" she hissed excitedly. 

She clung to Sandra suddenly, her knees growing weak with the stunning idea 
of her mother's pussy-and her sweet mouth, too, of course-being so warmly 
engaged with a boy's cock. A boy she knew! Whose sister was her friend! A 
boy's sister who had, however unpremeditated it might have been, held the 
boy's cock in her mouth, feeling and tasting the heat and power of his 
spurts of semen. She was whining and sobbing with a wild burst of cunt heat, 
a twisting of cock-hungry muscles inside her girlish twat. And she was 
squeezing one of Sandra's mature tits as if she would twist it from her 
friend's body. 

They broke apart with a strange sense of triumph as they heard Sheri's 
voice: "Come on, you guys! Chow's down!" 

"It's the real thing, isn't it?" Rocky asked in a trembling voice. "I licked 
some of it up! It's not the same as ours! It's not even the same as what I 
tasted on mom yesterday! Not exactly." 

She licked her lips again, then picked up Sandra's hand and licked the 
thumbnail. "Oh, God, kid, it's too much!" she said in a faint and husky 
voice. "Now, do you believe me?" 

They went down the hall and into the big kitchen where Sheri had put out 
saltines, a ripe avocado, some cheese and a plate of cookies. 

"There's only one Coke in the refrigerator," she smiled. "Rocky, d'you want 
to get a six-pack out of the storage room? Take a pan and get some ice cubes 
out of the freezer, too." 

She was only mildly astounded when Sandra gave her an odd look and eased up 
out of her chair. "I'll go along," the visitor said nervously, and Sheri 
said: "Of course. If you want to." She knew how warm and deeply pleasing it' 
is to have a friend, someone to confide in, to share secrets with. And she 
remembered the feeling she'd had about young Whatshisname, the kid with the 
lovely cock. Jeff, that was it. The feeling that Jeff had no close friends, 
no one to talk to. Had he said so, or had it been her intuition? In any 
case, she vowed to herself, she'd make sure that he knew he could talk to 
her. At his age, when he was just getting into something like sex, which had 
so many unnecessary pitfalls of remorse and guilt and fear, he'd almost have 
to have someone. If only Sandy were his brother instead of his sister! For 
of course he couldn't talk to a girl about stuff like that! Especially not 
his sister! 

"Gee, Rocky," Sandra was saying, "I guess it was dumb, but I just felt so 
funny, staying there alone with your mom. And knowing that that was my 
brother's cum on her bed!" The two girls giggled and hugged each other, and 
Rocky was reaching across the mattress on the floor to pull a carton of some 
soft drinks to her when she said: 

"Ugh!" and shook her fingers. 

She had braced herself on one arm, and now she looked at her friend Sandy 
with a wild surmise, nodding down to the wet spot with a little shining 
puddle of something slick in the middle. And, as she sniffed her hand, she 
began to laugh, pointing to the dark area. "They must have been fucking all 
over the house!" she croaked. "But what a wonderful place to do it!" 

With nose and tongue, Sandra verified the new discovery, and was deeply 
thrilled by it. "I never knew boys could cum all that much," she said. "From 
all I've heard, or read. Hey!" she exclaimed. "He may have been here a long 
time! This is Thursday. He doesn't have any classes from nine-fifteen-I 
think that's it-until afternoon. And he goes out on Thursdays to collect for 
the newspaper. Golly! Wow!" Her eyes were misty with the very idea of that 
cock going into Mrs. Meredith's cunt. Wow! It must be a big one! With a ton 
of hair! She felt a strange excitement flooding her, building up heat in her 
belly. She looked at her blonde friend. 

Rocky was staring at the wet spot, finding it almost impossible to keep from 
rubbing her suddenly aroused pussy. 

"Let's get out of here," she whispered in a hoarse voice. "This is too heavy 
for me!" 

The two kids pulled themselves together, as kids always have when it's 
necessary to present a united front and a noncommittal stare on the command 
generation. They ate and drank mainly in silence, and Sheri, carrying on 
with her interrupted chores in the kitchen, left them alone. 

Therefore, when Raquel said, with unusual uncertainty: "If it's okay with 
you, Mom, can I walk over to Sandy's? I promise I won't stay long, and," 
with a nervous giggle, "I'll be careful crossing the street!" Sheri laughed 
outright. 

"Go ahead," she said. "And don't knock yourself out getting back. We're 
going to have leftover chicken for dinner, and I'll make some macaroni and 
cheese. It's better, warmed up, then it is fresh out of the oven." 

She watched them go, fairly dancing in their eagerness to get out and away. 
'They're full of something," she said aloud, and with an indulgent smile. 
"It's great to be young!" 

The two friends moved along the hall. Just as the apartments were spacious, 
so were the halls wide. "Almost like at school," Sandra giggled. "My dad 
says these houses were built when lumber and labor and everything else was 
cheap. That's why there's so much room." 

They were passing the linen room, and Rocky, leaning against the warmth of 
her friend, said: "I sure am glad they built that linen room!" and Sandy 
whooped and hugged the slender blonde. 

They were at the building's entrance when the door opened and a familiar 
figure, entering, stopped short on seeing them. 

"Hello," Jeff said guardedly, wondering why his sister was over here on this 
particular day, and how much she had told Rocky. In this composite abstract 
of unformed fear and unspoken guilt, he also carried vivid impressions of 
the lovely, hospitable thighs of Rocky's mother, seeming so far 
removed-even, possibly, seeming so far above him, a sex-mad delinquent, as 
he thought. But he thought of those warm thighs as lying open for him, and 
in his cluttered and jumpy mind, he saw the big puff of dark, richly curled 
cunt hair. Too, he saw the almost hidden shine of ripe red cunt lips, wet 
and slick from his cum and hers. For a split second, he felt all of this, 
and it made his legs tremble. 

And then he saw the proudly up-thrust titties of his young sister, and her 
sweetly curved lips. In a very adult way, he was conscious that those lips 
had closed on his cock, and that her tongue had wrapped around its throbbing 
head as he had spurted his jism into her avidly swallowing mouth. So-who was 
she to be afraid of? Or her little-girl friend, a mere baby? 

He pushed by them, smiling in an aloof manner, not even noticing that they 
eyed him with strange calculation. Girls were weird, anyhow. Not women like 
Mrs. Meredith. They were okay, down to earth, straightforward. He blushed as 
he swung along the hall, thinking of how Mrs. Meredith had so 
straightforwardly taken his cock out of his pants and began to suck it. 

He did not look back and hence did not see Rocky wave good-bye at his 
sister, and walk smoothly back along the hall, stopping to take a key from a 
nail and open a room. He was going to tell Mrs. Meredith that he had 
rearranged his route so that she was his last customer. That he could come 
in for a while. Maybe he might even be straightforward, too, and run his 
hand up between her big, smooth thighs to where that good pussy was. He even 
had a pretty good start on a hard-on, just from thinking about it. But in 
that last fifteen feet or so, he lost his guts. 

Maybe she wouldn't feel like doing all that stuff again. After all, he sure 
had spilled a lot of cum juice on her good bed. And on that old mattress in 
that storage room. And Rocky might be back any minute. 

So he didn't ring the bell. He just laid the paper down against the door, 
very quietly, and retreated. 

He almost jumped out of his skin when a voice whispered: "Hey! Paperboy! Get 
your ass in here!" 

He was so shocked when he saw that it was little Rocky, and that she was 
standing in some strange room, that he actually did as he had been 
ordered-he went into the room with her. 

It was big and well lighted, with shelves of linens and large compartments 
filled with what looked like pillows and blankets. There was also a large, 
smooth table down the center of the room. He saw all this with a glance, but 
he saw something else that was far more interesting, and completely, 
chillingly frightening. 

It was a slender blonde child that he knew only too well. She was carefully 
closing the door and releasing the latch on the Yale lock on the door. 
And-something else. 

She was bare-ass naked. 

He had not brought his large canvas paperboy's carrying bag in with him. He 
only had the one paper to deliver. His bike was outside, locked, and hidden 
behind a bush. He did not know why he thought of all this. Except that right 
now, he would have given all he owned to be on his bike, getting the hell 
out of where he was. 

He was speechless. But Rocky wasn't. He was also frozen, unable to move. But 
Rocky wasn't. Anything but. 

She had a look on her face of the most wanton boldness, not only like a cat 
who has eaten the canary, but like a pussy which is determined to eat a boy. 
He could not look her in the face, but he was aware of her expression. And 
he could not look away from her body. Her titties were perky perfect, 
tip-tilted and tiny little melons of flesh with pointed red tips that were 
glowing with blood flow and inner heat. The light was right for him to see 
what his sister had ignored-the ring of light yellow hair that circled her 
fat little pubic mound like an inverted horseshoe of blonde fur. It was 
fantastic that this little friend of his sister, who had always seemed like 
a child to him, now seemed too grown up. She frightened him. 

But the worst thing of all was that she was as bold as he was timid. He was 
fifteen, she was-what? Twelve? He thought not. He thought she was more like 
eleven. But he could not remove his fascinated gaze from the fat little 
delta of protruding flesh, with its slit in plain sight because of her 
nearly hairless condition, and with its small but beautiful tuft of fine 
blonde hair to give mute credence to the claim of being a woman. 
Furthermore, there was a juicy highlight on the little tags of pink inner 
lips that had crept out through the cushiony outer cleft. 

All of this took perhaps three or four seconds to flash through his mind. 
Then, summoning some strength and sense, he croaked: "Let me out of here! 
Get out of my way, dummy!" 

But the little girl, her heart beating with an odd mixture of lust and 
timidity, said: "You're the dummy! Fifteen years old and you can't even look 
at a naked girl. Unless she's your sister!" Her voice was calculatedly 
scornful. 

"Shut up!" Jeff blurted. "You know you're lying!" But he stood still as she 
came up to him, and he let out a sort of uncontrolled moan as she grasped 
his young cock where it lay in his slacks. "Let go of me!" He was trembling, 
and the young girl, barely able to breathe for excitement and triumph, felt 
his prick expand and struggle to get up. 

"Dummy!" she said, now that she felt more confident. "What would you say if 
I told you I know everything? Everything!" she boasted, and gave his 
swelling cock a soft squeeze. "How does that make you feel? I know 
everything you've been doing!" 

What should have been terror or, at the least, very deep apprehension, was 
turning into a sort of pleasant desperation. The boy had been thinking of 
nothing but sex for more than twenty-four hours. He had seen and felt a 
grown-up twat, he had been sucked by this child's mother and by his own 
sister. And he had plunged his fingers into both cunts, each time on the 
request of the female involved. And he still had the seeds of the erection 
he had planned for Mrs. Meredith. 

"A lot I care," he growled, although his fears had not gone, but only been 
buried for the time being under a landslide of fuck-heat and native desire. 
"But you're just a dummy kid. What do you know?" 

She was fumbling with his belt, with his zipper. He should have been 
panicky, but he could smell-was it possible for such a young girl?-that 
gut-quaking thickness of aroma that seems to surround a cunt in heat. But he 
was cautious and, as she triumphantly dragged his cock out, now standing at 
its full, hard height, he whispered: "If we get caught, it'll be your 
fault!" And as he said this, he felt a deep desire to feel her frail but 
well-cushioned little-girl body against his. 

He dropped his pants and shorts and wriggled out of his shirt, and little 
Rocky, her eyes on his prick, suddenly felt such a gush of saliva that she 
could barely swallow it. 

"You've got to do what I say," she whispered. "If I say do it, you do it. 
And if I say no, you stop. Or I'll tell!" Her cheeks looked feverish with 
their wild pink glow, and her little twat felt as if it were turning inside 
out. 

Jeff was confused, but not too confused to want something from this slender 
blonde sprite. His cock actually hurt him with its tension, its hardness, 
but he had heard so many wild tales of boys "getting into trouble" with 
little girls! In a blind rage of passion, he grabbed the small form and 
pulled it to him, and Rocky, even dumber than Jeff about what to do, felt 
grateful that her smooth little belly was rubbing hard against his cock. 

He was groaning above her head: "I don't dare do it! I don't dare do it!" 
and the tiny blonde, scared but determined, said: "You'll do what I tell 
you! Help me up on this table!" 

It was higher than normal table height, and quite wide. Blindly, Jeff put 
his hands under her arms, his thumbs conscious of pressing into the upper 
swell of her little-girl titties, and his fingers dampened in the sweat 
under her childish arms. 

But when she was up, he seemed to be standing between her small but 
beautiful thighs, and she was staring down at his cock and at the fat little 
mound where her cunt started. She felt a wave of desire, of tenderness, and 
hugged the boy's dark head against her soft little breasts. When she let him 
go, she looked at him searchingly, and said: "I'd be scared to actually do 
it. To fuck. You know. Wouldn't you?" 

He doggedly muttered: "I'm not scared. I've fucked lots of times! But you're 
such a baby!" 

"All right!" she cried angrily. "I'm younger than you, and younger than your 
sister, and younger than my mom! But damn you, I've got feelings! And I'm 
grown up enough to cum!" 

She lay back suddenly, braced on her elbows, her young thighs wide apart. 
"Come on and play with me," she invited. "Be my brave little finger-fucker. 
You can't knock me up with the dirt from under your fingernail!" 

Her tender young cunt was split wetly within a foot of his face. He could 
see the sweetly slimy petals of her inner lips, the trickly crawl of cunt 
juice smeared on the fatness of her outer lips. Her soft little butt was 
smashed down by her weight, closing the gap between her rounded ass-cheeks 
to a tight slit. And just above where her ass met the table, he saw the 
source of a new flow of pussy juice, the pinkly fluted cluster of softness 
and wetness which led into her cunt. 

He became cooler, once he had decided. "Let me suck your titty," he 
whispered. "Give it to me. I'll stick my finger in, and you can tell me how 
I'm doing. But I want to be sucking on your boob all the while. Okay?" 

With a mute gesture of surrender, the child held up one small but lovely 
breast to his beardless lips, and he sucked her into him so hard that she 
screamed with pain and joy. I 

"Man! I never knew it could feel like that," she moaned. "Oh, Jeff, you're 
doing that so good!" She hunched her ass toward him. "Your finger! Your 
finger! Ohhhh! Stick it into me!" 

Blindly, his face against her narrow but sweetly padded chest, he groped 
across her thigh, his thumb delightfully conscious of the soft little ring 
of blonde hair, hardly more than down, really, and stabbed at the slickness 
of her cunt. 

He grazed the outer lips and his hand slipped in the warm slick flow that 
emerged from her amazingly mature cunt lips, the inner ones, so swollen with 
her warm blood and passion. 

"Down," the girl whispered. "Down further. Not there! That's my ass-hole! 
Ohhh! Ohhhhh!" and she seemed to throw her bottom at him, so that his finger 
suddenly found the hole, and sank into her sloppily sucking little vagina, 
feeling the same sort of folds, the same heat and slippery movements that he 
had felt in her mother. And in his sister. 

He knew what a cock did in a girl's pussy, and he tried to do the same thing 
with his finger. He was pleased and surprised when the little girl began 
moaning and jerking, and he heard her voice: "Oh, Jeffie! Oh, Jeffie! That's 
the place! Oh! Oh! Oh, baby! You're finger-fucking me so beautifully! I 
think I'm about to-CUM! CUM! I'M CUMINNGG! OHHH! AARRGGHH! OH, JEFF! 
Ohhhhh!" and she let her breath out, her body trembling. 

The pleased boy had sweat running down into his eyes when he let go of her 
aroused little breast and grinned at her. "Made you cum pretty good, didn't 
I?" he asked. "Look at me!" He thrust out his loins, and the young girl, her 
eyes wide, cried out: "Oh, he's so big and scary! You never could get that 
big thing into my poor little old pussy!" But she leaned over and reached 
down and took the throbbing prick in her hand, wondering if she dared ask 
him the favor that was trembling on her lips. . 

Jeff moved. "Hey, watch it!" he said angrily. "I want to cum, but I don't 
just want you to jerk me off! Hey," he said, as if it cost him some courage, 
"could I put it, like, between your thighs? It sure is just about ready to 
shoot!" 

The little girl thought, her small finger on her lower lip. At last, 
remembering that, after all, she had so much on him that he dared not deny 
her, said thickly: "I want the same as you gave your sister. The same way 
you did it with Sandy!" 

He had never heard the proverb about its being as well to be hung for a 
sheep as a lamb, and he was not sure it was so. He wanted relief, and not by 
a jerk-off. But having an eleven-year-old girl take his cock in her mouth, 
and shooting his jism into her young throat-that was pretty heavy. 

"I can't do that," he said in a scratchy whisper. 

"Anyhow, who said I did anything to Sandy? And who said what it was?" 

The girl, her young mind aflame, and her wishful body aching for the great 
adventure of real sex, moved her ass back and forth on the smooth surface of 
the table. The warmth between her thighs seemed to spread. It had been 
wonderful to be brought to a cum by a boy's finger! That was sort of going 
along toward being grown up. But one orgasm, for a hot young girl, even one 
who had sucked and been sucked into a violent series of cums only a short 
time ago, was just a drop in the bucket. She felt that her mouth was hanging 
open, just from the raging fire in her, of wanting to have that cock in her 
head. 

"You put it in her mouth," the girl said, her voice trembling. "You let it 
all go. Your load. You shot off in her mouth." She gritted her teeth as she 
almost went into a shock of orgasm, closing her eyes in agonized ecstasy. 
"She sucked you off. She told me so, herself!" 

"I can't do it!" the boy cried wildly, feeling the load in his balls 
overheating, swelling his cockhead into dangerously itchy desire. "I can't!" 
But this was his conscience, his rotten, stupid conscience. And the pressure 
of semen in his rampaging balls, the harsh and grown-up need firing his 
cock-nerves, had an older, more powerful argument. 

He continued to whisper: "No, no! I can't!" but he was climbing up on the 
table, and the girl's half-crazy with the glamorous fuck-itch swelling her 
junior labia, buzzing her clitty button like a little alarm clock going off, 
eagerly helped him up. And pulled him down on her so she could kiss his 
face, his eyes, any part of him. 

"Oh, goody-goody!" she whispered, "I'm going to get it! I'm going to get 
it!" She was reaching between his legs, grabbing blindly and hungrily for 
his cock, and her smooth young forearms alerted his nerves, their satin 
softness making a promise that all her body wanted to keep. 

He felt her hot breath cooling the sweat on his belly, and although his mind 
said "No!" his cock and balls cried "YES! YES!" in an overpowering voice. He 
saw her delightfully tiny ass, almost like a big doll's, move above him, saw 
it open, and saw the hotly divided lips of her young cunt as she maneuvered 
to get to his engorged penis. She was panting, her eyes were closed, and he 
knew that she needed this even worse than he did. 

He remembered what her mother had said. How short a time ago, and yet it 
seemed like a long, long time. That girls needed it even more than boys. 
Because with them, it was more than physical. He was thinking "fuck" and 
"suck" and "cunt" and all the other forbidden but lovely words he knew, 
looking at the pinkly peeled back cunt lips so beautifully inviting as the 
little girl so awkwardly sought to gobble his prick. 

Suddenly he felt grown up, and he held the tiny, warmly writhing body, one 
hand between her thighs, one firmly grasping one of her soft, firm little 
breasts. "Wait!" he said. "If we're going to do this, let's do it right. Lie 
on your side. Go on, damn it! I'm going to let you have it! Don't you trust 
me?" 

She let go and fell on her side with a whimper, but her tiny, perfectly 
formed hands stroked between his thighs, and she moaned, the spit running 
out of the lower corner of her mouth. He spoke to her kindly. "You can 
handle my cock just a little. But be easy. You got any idea of how a guy 
cums?" 

The child's voice seemed far away, pleading, humble. "I guess I don't know 
too much," she gasped. "Sandy said it shot into her mouth and she had a hard 
time swallowing it." 

He felt a shudder of feeling go through the soft, warm child, and the manly 
thrust of his mind overcame his immediate need to fire his cream. He even 
stroked along the fat outer lips of her juicy young cunt, watching the clear 
juice run out. 

Jesus Christ! he thought. She's as full of cunt juice as her mom! The 
thought made his tongue swell, made his salivary glands expel a small 
fountain of spit under his tongue. I'm going to suck her twat, he thought, 
fascinated by his calmness. 

He said aloud, and very softly: "Okay, Rocky. You can open up your mouth and 
sort of go down on my cock. That's what they call it, you know," he added, 
feeling much older. "Going down on a guy. Oooohhh! Goddamn! Easy! Whew!" and 
he plucked very hard at her tits. "You almost had a face full of cum, right 
then and there. Lie still, and let me fuck back and forth in your mouth. 
Hold your tongue sort of against it. There. Wow!" He was fucking back and 
forth as though he had been at it all his life, and the young girl, feeling 
the enormous triumph of finally, at long last, really having a cock in her 
mouth, was swept by a fluttering cum that made her jam her cunt right into 
Jeff's face. 

He was not prepared for it, but he did the instinctive thing. Just as the 
naive Sandra had automatically sucked at the tender head of his cock, his 
tongue went into the tight, slippery hole that led into the wet darkness of 
the tiny girl's vagina. And it was too much for her. 

With the same wildness as she had shown on his finger, she tried to suck his 
tongue into her with all the pressure and force of a virgin cunt. She was 
screaming, but the sounds of it were muffled by his swollen cock, and she 
would not have disgorged this sweet, hot lump of meat for a king's ransom. 
And the squirming of muscle inside her twat was answered by a corresponding 
action in her throat. In their sweated embrace, slipping and grasping each 
other, conscious only of their need and the outpouring of their lust, the 
boy hammered his spurting penis into the girl's juvenile throat, as much a 
man as he would ever be, although he could not realize it. 

And the girl, hardly able to sprout hairs on her pubis, only a few months 
away from the little-girl sterility of non-flavored cunt juice, let the 
blast of female orgasm roll through her, swelling her tits, spasming in her 
vagina, while her hard little clitoris expanded and trembled and sank into 
its nest of cloaking flesh, only to expand and shake with another juicy and 
soul-shaking cum, one after the other. 

When they were at last finished, and little Rocky's tired mouth was as slack 
as her tight little pussy, and Jeff's young cock, limbered by the little 
chickie's gleeful suck, they very slowly rolled apart. They were so lathered 
with sweat that they made a sucking noise as their bodies separated, and 
Jeff, wishing desperately that he hadn't done this, sat up. 

He expected to be denounced. Never mind the fact that it was Rocky who had 
attacked him, practically. He knew girls, how they often jockeyed a fellow 
into doing or saying something he shouldn't, and then made him suffer in 
their weird desire to see a male in trouble. 

But then, in that bright room, still brilliantly lighted by the late 
afternoon sun, his eyes came back to focus. And there before him, only 
inches away, was that same sweet little split, that same fat-lipped little 
cunt that he had so thoroughly sucked out only minutes before. He could see 
the ring of fine blonde hair that adorned the softly shaped mound where the 
slit began. He could see the few hairs that straggled down the thick lips, 
that would, some day, cover all her cuntal area with the glory of curly, 
bright blonde cunt hair. But mainly, what he saw and loved was the openness 
of what had been a rather primly closed cleft. And he had an idea that his 
sucking, plus, of course, the young girl's native heat, had caused the sweet 
little pussy to be open, with all its shiny pink convolutions exposed. 

And, when he looked down to see the expression on Raquel's face, no longer 
worried about her reactions, he saw a look of the most intense sweetness, as 
well as evidence of the hot passion that had linked them together. At each 
corner of her soft young mouth, with her lips seeming a deeper pink after 
their sexual ecstasies, there were a few pearly drops of his rich, thick 
semen. And she smiled appreciatively at him as she ran her slender tongue 
out and, gathered in those last stray drops of the delicately flavored seed. 

When she finished, she rolled around and sat up, her arms around the boy's 
neck. "Oh, Jeffie," she whispered, "that was so lovely! Thank you for 
treating me like a person!" 

His left arm was around her naked young body, and she was so slender that 
his arm reached far enough around that his hand warmly held her small but 
beautifully modeled little breast. His right hand seemed to go naturally 
down between her thighs, and his softly moving fingers found a welcome in 
the slick and trembling pressures of her young cunt. To complete the 
triangle of boy-and-girl adventure, his mouth came down on hers in an adult 
kiss, and they clung together, warmly sucking on each other's tongues. 

After they drew away to smile mistily at each other, the slim little beauty 
cried: "Oh! Lovely!" as she saw Jeff's cock stir with a revival of interest, 
and she threw herself prostrate to put her sweet mouth just at the center of 
his lap. And then, looking up at him with the age-old roguishness of the 
woman in heat, she gently put her mouth around the half-hard, half-soft cock 
and calmly began her woman's joyous chore of sucking it clean. 

He was entranced by the sight of her lovely and girlish buttocks, teasingly 
turned up as she lay on her belly. His fingers strayed into that slippery 
cleft where her cum juice and his spit had left snail-trails of slickness as 
she had overflowed in the joys of orgasm. But they were stopped cold in 
their sweet attentions. 

There was a brisk sound of steps in the hall, someone rattled the door, and 
an adult voice said: "Damn it! That key's never here when I need it!" and 
the footsteps receded. 

Rocky kissed Jeff quickly. "Don't worry!" she whispered. "Get your clothes 
on." 

When they were dressed, she opened the door and looked up and down the hall. 
"Quick!" she hissed. "Out here!" and there they were, walking innocently 
along, when Mrs. Basilone, one of the tenants from the second floor, steamed 
down the hall toward them with a key in her hand. "Key misplaced again," she 
said with a rather sour smile, and Rocky, her face straight, said: "Yeah! I 
just found it out in the middle of the hall. Someone must have dropped it 
and it got kicked around." 

She walked down to the building's entrance with Jeff, and squeezed his hand 
as she left. "I'm supposed to be at your house with Sandy," she said. "Let 
me get away and then take this key back to mom. Tell her you saw me and your 
sister, and that I asked you to give this back to her." 

She kissed him on the cheek and was gone. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Of all the growth-forcing events which had expanded young Jeff Stone's life 
in the past two days, none was more intensely bittersweet than facing the 
warm, inviting smile and the warm, inviting body of Sheri Meredith. 

She was so openly, obviously delighted to see him that he felt like a fool 
for tiptoeing away after sneakily leaving her paper. And she was so gleeful 
as she told him that Rocky had gone to his house with his sister, "so we 
don't have to worry about her interrupting us!" that he felt just a twinge 
of guilt that he had shot such a load of jism into the tender young girl's 
hotly sucking mouth. I'm glad she sucked my dick clean, he thought, as 
Sheri, hugging him with one smooth, strong arm, reached down between them to 
feel probingly for his cock. 

But it was so funny, too, in a way, and it made him feel so good, and so 
manly, to realize that he was carrying on with a mother and a daughter. One 
of them much older than he. The other so much younger that, judging by what 
he'd heard and seen, the average parent would scream bloody murder over it. 
Even if I was just taking her to a school dance, he thought in an inward 
burst of good feeling for both himself and little Raquel. 

"What happened?" Sheri asked the boy. "I found the paper outside when that 
lady from upstairs came for the linen room key. I was afraid you'd become 
bored with me, and had run out. Stood me up, you know," and she laughed, 
holding him to her, softly, warmly rubbing his young prick up and down in 
the soft fabric of his slacks. 

He hung his head, remembering that he had, in fact, chickened out. "I was 
afraid you wouldn't want me," he whispered, his face red. "You've been so 
straightforward with me, I was going to try to be like that, but I chickened 
out." 

They were, somehow, back in her bedroom and sitting together on the edge of 
the bed. And the lovely, sweet woman had his feet in her lap and was untying 
his sneakers. She leaned to kiss him, and gave him just a wee taste of her 
slick tongue. 

"What were you going to do that was so straightforward that you lost your 
guts?" she asked him with a teasing smile. "Don't tell me, show me." She put 
his feet down and reached to help him get the knit shirt over his head. 
"Okay," she said, her voice a tiny bit hoarse with sexual expectancy. "Show 
me." 

Looking at her very hard, he slowly put his hand on her knee, working it 
back between her thighs. They were smooth, but because of the warm day, and 
the natural moisture of her healthy skin, he had to worm his hand along, 
until she suddenly spread her knees apart. Immediately, his hand shot to her 
softly-haired cunt, and she hugged him to her as he pushed between the big, 
soft lips, into the warm, sensuously moist channel. 

"Oooh!" she groaned. "I'm so glad you're doing that, Jeff! Do you know, 
that's what I've been wanting! Do you like to do it this way, just play 
around in there? Or do you want to undress me and let me lie back so you can 
do whatever you want to?" 

When he buried his flushed face in her breasts, she whispered: "Wait a 
minute," and moved the dress down off her shoulders. She had changed from 
her house cleaning rags to a loosely fitting dress which gave her ripe 
figure full latitude to show its best points, and how she was glad of it. 
When young Jeff still just nuzzled in the softness of her titties, she said: 
"Here! This is where it gives me the best feeling. Open your mouth, you 
sweet thing!" and squeezed one of her full, firm breasts into a jutting cone 
to go in between his lips. "Suck hard!" she whispered. "You just don't know 
how good that makes a woman feel!" 

She realized that, half-dressed, they were only half prepared for what they 
both wanted, so she lay back, letting him hang onto his mouthful of tit so 
that he came down on the bed with her, and raised her big, shapely butt off 
the bed to edge the dress out from under her. The boy was holding her breast 
in both hands squeezing it hard while he gave it a deliciously powerful 
suction. It was causing little fingers of fire to dance along under the skin 
of her belly, warming the free-flowing ' cunt that throbbed expectantly 
below. Without a word, she took one hand and gently moved it down to where 
it could stroke again in the thick growth of curly hair that covered her 
pussy. 

At the same time, without disturbing him, she got his slacks unfastened and 
started down, along with his shorts, so that his beautiful young body was 
exposed down to mid-thigh. She could now get her warm hand all around his 
cock, and one finger extended back along its hardening length. She could 
press on the sensitive spot just ahead of his tight young ass-hole. 

She could really feel his finger working in her nerve taut vagina. Probably 
two fingers, from the tension and the lovely rub she was getting in those 
soft, slippery folds. She remembered a choked-off remark he had made 
yesterday-"you're tighter than"-and grinned above his head as he 
finger-fucked her and tried to draw her entire big breast down his throat. 

With a mother's hand, she stroked the dark hair, and whispered: "You're so 
good at this, Jeff, darling! You just seem to know exactly where it feels 
best to me. I'll bet you've done a lot of this before, haven't you?" 

Through his haze of lust, which was not so intense, considering the demands 
that had been made on his young jism-secreting system, he heard the 
question. It pleased him deeply. More than just the flattery. Here was 
someone straightforward and honest. He didn't know one single solitary 
person he could confide in. Not one boy, not one man, or woman, or girl. 
Except this one. 

He was aware that he had a big hard-on, and that, too, made him feel 
marvelous. He had read of how a man could not cum as often as a woman. And, 
in a vague way, he knew why. Women didn't really shoot out a load of cum 
like a man did. There was a female juice, and hot women poured out more the 
other kind. But the only three he knew of, which meant Mrs. Meredith, Rocky, 
and his sister, they all poured it out. 

He remembered the similarity of taste between Rocky's cunt and her mother's. 
Rocky's was a little sweeter, a bit less musky, not quite as thick or as 
slick. But how about Sandy's? Wasn't it somewhere in between? In a hidden 
part of his mind, he suddenly thirsted to press his cheeks into the hairy 
softness of his young sister's twat and drink her cunt nectar. In a blind 
fog of desire, he drove his fingers deep up Mrs. Meredith's vagina, pushing 
against something hard and slick. She moaned and he felt ascendant and 
dominant, equal to any adult. 

Coming when it did, his thought almost rebounded off what Sheri Meredith was 
saying: "Are you feeling all those hot, slippery things inside me, dear? 
They're all for you! Everything!" And her hand, as gentle as ever, pushed 
his foreskin back until the head of his cock was strained against its 
retaining cord. Thickly, he muttered: "I want to fuck!" 

Made happily acquiescent by her deep-throbbing passion and by the manly 
sweetness of this lovable boy, Sheri said: "Oh, yes, my dear! Yes, yes, 
Jeff! Stick it in me! Fuck me! I want it so bad!" 

Unconscious that she was doing so, she was undulating her strong, sleek body 
up and down in a sort of dry fuck, feeling her pussy juice flowing out 
between her swollen cunt lips, down into the humid and trembling crack of 
her ass. Her joy increased as she felt the strong body of the young kid 
crowd on top of her, mashing her tits into a pair of painfully ecstatic 
pillows of responsive flesh. He began to kiss at her blindly as he got on 
her, and his tongue hooked deeply into her mouth, clogging her throat with 
her spit and his. At the same time, she felt his hand holding her cunt lips 
open as he raised his narrow loins above her. It was fantastic what nature 
bestowed in the human mind without training or teaching. He was fifteen, and 
eased his cock into a grown woman with the ease and precision of an old 
lover. 

The heat and size of it shocked her. Had he been this big, earlier today? 
Had she grown tighter? Either seemed impossible. As she fucked up at him, 
wild with the joy of a cunt completely filled and comfortably stretched, she 
knew the deep pleasure of utilizing all her muscles, all her nerves, to take 
from this moment all the fuck-delight it contained. He rose and thrust down 
in an easy rhythm, so that she was hardly conscious of how her powerful back 
and leg muscles were joining to lift his body, to catch him as he pounded 
down. 

She had a book-well, it was Brooksy's book, really, but she loved it-that 
showed, she imagined, every possible way for a man and woman to enjoy each 
other. Or for woman and woman, for that matter, and man and man. One 
close-up shot, she found more interesting, more earthily wonderful, than the 
rest. 

It was simply a shot across a woman's belly and crotch, from about the 
position and level of the pelvic point. Gravity made the model's rounded 
belly sink in, but the pubic arch made that hair-covered mound stand out in 
all its strength and beauty. The woman in the picture had a lot of dark 
hair, like Sheri. You had to imagine the warmth and human seepage of cunt 
juice in the unseen portions of the model's body. And to make the imagining 
more itchily, brazenly heat-raising, there was a man poised above the woman, 
and a big, hard cock was just pulling out of her cuntal orifice. It had to 
be pulling out. It was shiny and drippy with that clear fluid that 
lubricates a girl's vagina when she is being well fucked. 

She saw herself in this light, in this position, as the model in such a 
photo, as her fuck-power grew and roared in the dark of her pussy, and as 
the cum-fire flared in her clitoris. 

She was more deeply absorbed with what was happening to the responses of her 
body than with the boy and his feelings, but in a very tiny place in the 
back of her mind, she was thinking: Go on and cum, baby. Hurry up and cum. 
Let it all shoot out in my cunt, baby. 

She began to be conscious of this connection between thought and action as 
she rose and rose toward the frantic, lovely, unbearable joy of a climax, 
realizing that her ass was fucking up and enclosing this boy in cadence with 
her mental chant. It annoyed her for a brief moment, then was lost in a 
flood of love for a fifteen-year-old kid who could fuck with such power. 

She was still conscious of the exact look of her cunt and spread-out thighs 
and clenching butt as she thrust her vagina up his pole and smashed down, 
pressing it against the upper and lower rim of her cuntal entry. Deep red 
from the friction and the passion, with all those tiny veins on the surface 
of her inner lips engorged with the hot blood her heart was pumping. 

And all this time, she was holding his body, fondling his muscular young 
back, feeling the light touch of his balls in her cleft as he rode her down, 
slamming his cock into her. 

It could not go on any longer. 

With a crazed scream of triumph, she began to pump her ass more furiously, 
forgetting his cock in the maze of her own sky-rocketing passions. 
"AAARRRGGGHHH! AAARRRGGGHHH! OH! OH! OH! OH! FUCK ME, BABY! POUR IT IN! OH, 
JEFF, YOUR COCK! DRIVE IT IN ME! Ohhhhhh! Ohhh! Oh! Oh, Jeff!" and her voice 
was very small. "Oh, baby, what a great, tremendous fuck!" 

From the moment she had grasped his prick, it had felt good. 

The double-dip he had enjoyed this very morning and afternoon, of fucking 
and sucking and sex play with this graciously formed, adult woman with her 
puffed out cunt and its wild growth of fragrant hair, had certainly not 
drained him. Neither had the unexpected, and could-be-but-wasn't unsettling 
weirdo adventure in the linen room. 

But he had known, somehow, when he was raised to a cock-burning hard-on by 
this lovely woman's body and cunt and lips, that he would hold back his cum. 
That he could hold it back. 

The pressures inside the tightly sucking, strongly gripping cunt, very 
apparent to his every nerve in spite of the wealth of cunt juice which 
flushed from every fold in her vagina, had given him glorious pleasure. Time 
after time, as he had so enjoyably smashed his cock against that hard, slick 
thing away up her pussy, he had felt the joy of orgasm creeping from his 
cockhead back to his balls. He had not tried to prevent it. But something 
had. 

He knew a man's deep triumph in having made his lady cum with such wanton 
ecstasy. Her eyes were closed, and her face had the same quiet peace and joy 
and love as he had surprised on little Rocky, not half an hour earlier. Her 
mouth was smiling, its lips seeming slightly swollen. They had been sucking 
each other's tongues very hard. He pulled away a little and was overwhelmed 
with her earthy appeal. Her tits were like blown-up balloons, the blue veins 
seeming to move under the distended whiteness of her skin. And the nipples! 
Wow! They were so big! And so pressured by blood and passion that they 
looked purple. 

He wanted to say something, but felt it would not be right. He had been 
afraid of this woman, whose sexual needs were as great and uncontrollable as 
his own, but whose kindness of heart equaled the heat of her cleverly 
nipping cunt. He now realized that she had not been giving him the grown 
up's ordinary shit they reserved for teenagers. She had meant it when she 
had said her body was all his, to do with as he liked. And of equal 
importance, that he could say anything he wished to say. 

He kissed her again, tenderly, on the veined lids of her closed eyes, and 
then on her soft, opened lips. He could have shed tears from the emotion 
that swept him. He felt the slackening of her cunt muscles, and was filled 
with a deep pride when his strong young cock, as hard as ever, throbbed in 
her. As he kissed her, she whispered against his lips: "Oh, my dear! How 
wonderful you were! And how sweet!" 

As if in reflex, he said, in the tones of a small boy: "And you said I could 
do or say anything I wanted to!" 

She hugged him and laughed, and said: "You're the man with the cock. You say 
what you want to! Anything, baby!" 

He giggled. "Will it hurt you if I take my cock out now?" he asked. "You 
see, I really don't know much about how ladies are, Mrs. Meredith." 

She thought of all the bums-and some good guys, too, of course-who had 
called her "Sheri" on the shortest of acquaintance. But she didn't tell the 
young boy to call her by her given name. No, it was so very charming to have 
him call her "Mrs. Meredith" with just that touch of respect, while his cock 
was soaking in her vagina, and giving her such warm, intimate pleasure. 

"I'll miss him, of course," she said. "But why do you want to pull him out? 
Doesn't it feel good in there? Am I getting too old and loose?" She bumped 
lightly up at him, enjoying the softly stirring feel in her juice-swilled 
pussy. 

"No," he answered seriously. "I want to get my mouth down there. I feel a 
lot of that good old juice. I want to suck you. Do you think that will be 
all right?" 

Heat came flooding back in the depths of Sheri Meredith's firm-muscled 
belly. She could swear she felt the pull and slide of her major cunt 
muscles. She thought of her clit, how ready it would be to fire a salvo of 
cum-shots, now that every nerve in her cuntal system was raw with 
gut-pleasure. 

"Baby," she gasped, "you can have it all. Any way you want, any time you 
want it! Shall I pull up my knees like I did before? Point my drippy old 
pussy at the ceiling?" 

He looked at her steadily. He remembered the pink, faintly-haired pussy of 
her eleven-year-old daughter, how it had looked over his face, how its 
nectar had flowed so sweetly down and into his joy-flushed mouth. "No," he 
said. "Get over me. I want to see how a grown-up lady's cunt looks when it's 
open." 

In spite of her gusting swirl of fuck-fever, she caught on this comparison, 
and spoke softly: "I guess you've seen a lot of young cunts, haven't you, 
Jeffie, dear? Some with little teeny coats of hair? Or, maybe, no hair at 
all?" 

She felt him stiffen and thought: Oh-oh! That struck a nerve. Watch it, 
Sheri. Don't turn him off now! 

To save the moment, she immediately rolled over and up on her knees, and 
swung one big, smooth thigh across his face. "Of course," she said, "the 
hairless ones would be when you were, like, well, maybe eight or 
nine.-Right?" 

Below and behind her, she heard him giggle and felt the light touch of his 
breath on the sensitive skin between her thighs, up near her pussy. "A 
guy-likes to look at 'em," he agreed, "even when they're too little to do 
much with." 

You little bullshitter, the woman thought. They're never too little to do 
something with. And she shivered, a hard run of nerves going through her, 
for she thought of her daughter. 

Under her, his eyes quickly adjusting to the semi-dark as Mrs. Meredith 
slowly lowered her fundament down toward him, was fascinated. The 
blood-swollen inner labia looked almost purple in the half-light, and his 
friend's position spread her cunt to its widest, just as if she had been 
lying on her back with her knees against her breasts. And her luxuriant 
growth of dark, curly cunt hair made a lovely frame for a mouth-watering 
picture. As he looked, he saw a convulsive movement in the pink clutch of 
slickness where her fuck-hole was, and knew she was anticipating the contact 
as much as he was. 

"Come on," he cried gaily, and put his arms up around the firmness of her 
hips and back, loving the warm feel of smooth skin, the solidity of the 
mature body. His mouth flooded with saliva in anticipation, and he ran his 
tongue around his gums and into his cheeks. 

His taste and tactile feel of the wide, smooth, dripping cunt was like a 
shock of fuck-fire. His cock, perhaps numbed by its long, hard use in 
fucking this same pussy, had seemed under control. But now he felt it jerk, 
and realized that the hottest experience a man can have is to see-and suck-a 
sweetly flowing, passion swollen cunt which is deliberately opened and 
pushed toward him for that very purpose. For a moment, he thought it might 
be more than he could handle. The cunt juice seemed thicker and more syrupy 
than before, certainly more so than the clear nectar from little Rocky's 
junior twat. But that was of course, the natural flow from a young girl. 
This was a mature, vigorous woman, generously endowed with sex power and sex 
need, so that her vagina worked furiously to prepare and give out the utmost 
in female lubrication. 

And the first suck brought him an almost overflowing mouthful of the rich, 
rankly flavored ooze, while long, dark hairs, crisped with dried female cum, 
tickled his cheeks. He felt as if he had stuck his face into a firm, hot 
custard flavored with cream and highly aromatic cheese and seafood. But the 
softly slick poultice was of living flesh, reddened by heat flooded veins, 
grained like the lips on a woman's passionate mouth, but ten times slicker, 
smoother, softer. And ten times as savory. 

He sucked hard, and felt the strong body above him shake with pleasure, and 
then Sheri instinctively pushed her ass forward to put her vaginal aperture 
at the boy's sucking mouth. He was in the midst of pulling in his cheeks to 
create as much vacuum as possible. His lips covered the prick-hole exactly, 
and his suction drew the woman's cunt walls tightly together. 

Every nerve in her cuntal sheath was in a raging state of heat and 
cum-hunger, raw with the urgency of a shattering orgasm. Young Jeff's 
innocent mouth, acting instinctively, sucked a throat-clogging flood of cunt 
syrup which made him swallow, which, in turn, created a greater, following 
suck. And this, in its turn, seemed to burn the silently screaming nerves 
into a love-pain that ignited Sheri's hoarded fuck power into a blazing 
climax. 

For a moment, as Mrs. Meredith's gasping mouth went down on his cock, and 
his nerves, screwed tighter as he gormandized on her cunt, Jeff almost shot 
his well-preserved load of jism. 

He heard her long, ragged screams: "UNNNHHHH! UUNNNNHHH! UNH!" like the 
agonized grunts of an animal, and felt her soft, strong ass hammer briefly 
against his face. There was a new flow of clear, gamy cunt ooze, which he 
swallowed, and he felt the scrape of her mound and its cunt hair on his 
chin. But, when she relaxed her entire body, so that her soft, smooth belly 
was on his chest and her big, swollen tits lay alongside his narrow hips, 
she instinctively kept her flaccid pussy from smothering him. In fact, after 
a moment to let the red tide of lust subside in her grateful body, she 
gently rolled off, but still clung to his hard young cock, watching its red 
head throbbing and jerking. 

"Well, Jeffie," she whispered brokenly, "you're some lover. I'm drained. 
It's so beautiful!" She tenderly kissed his young balls, lying hard-held 
against his cock in their wrinkled, hairless scrotum. "You must be tired. I 
know I am." 

She laughed, in a soft and shaky run of pleased sound, her lips and throat 
moving as she held his prick close to her face. "Are you happy? Are you 
satisfied?" she asked in a low voice. 

Jeff licked his lips. The gorgeous cunt, still hanging open in spite of Mrs. 
Meredith's change in position, looked like an enormous succulent flower, 
with thick, juicy petals of pink and purple flesh. It was held in a cup of 
thick tissue, hairy on the outside, softly, pinkly grained on the inside. 

He reached down and squeezed the big, soft cones of firm titty-meat, his 
thumb and forefingers squeezing the hardened nipples, and a strange thought 
moved him to speak. 

"I wish I could lie down and roll around in a room full of these," he said. 
"I wish I could suck milk out of them. It must be different from cows' milk. 
It must be stronger and richer. Women eat meat and cheese and fish and 
vitamins. Ohhhhh!" he moaned as he felt a fiery throb in his cock. "That's 
so hot! It's made me about to cum again!" 

Sheri tenderly kissed his hard peter. The soft, thick foreskin was back, 
showing its wrinkled inner surfaces, as pink as a baby's lips. The scent and 
taste of her inner fluids were plastered on it, making it a more attractive 
dish than ever. 

"Let me suck you off," she murmured softly. "Just lie still, baby, and let 
mama Sheri suck him off, real easy and quiet. Let me milk that good cream 
out of my baby boy's hard peter." 

She was drooling with suck-lust, her titties throbbing from the boy's firm 
caresses and from her own vast shock of cum-fire moments before. Her throat 
ached for the thrust of his manly cock, the saline delicacy of boyishly 
plentiful jism. The craving made her moan, made her mouth flood with suck 
juice as her mouth lubricated with saliva just as her cunt slavered out its 
own juices. "Let me suck it," she begged. 

The boy laughed as he turned toward her and fingered her highly sensitive 
cunt. "I will," he said. "But not this way." 

He got up and walked over to a softly padded chaise, a luxurious piece which 
Brooksy had sent home from one of his many deployments to the Far Eastern 
waters. He lay back on the raised end, stretched his right leg out on the 
tufted blue satin, and let his left leg dangle off, his foot touching the 
floor, his thighs wide apart. 

"There you go," he said, shaking his prick at the smiling woman. "like you 
said to me, it's all yours. Suck it!" 

She was gorgeous in her gracefully negligent position on the thickly 
carpeted floor. She sat mainly on her left hip and thigh, her left side 
leaning on the chaise between Jeff's legs, her left hand holding his rampant 
cock. 

As she licked her lips in anticipation, the boy reached out to stroke her 
head in a loving fashion, and she went down on him with such good will that 
her throat got a hard, jarring bump from the softly cushioned head of his 
hard meat. It raised him an inch off the chaise, and he moaned a long 
"OOOOOHHHHH!" of deep pleasure. 

He leaned forward to reach under her arms, stroking in the perspiring damp 
of the hair which, in the fashion of today's youth, she had let grow. 
Brooksy had said to her, not too many years ago: "Baby, one thing that makes 
an American girl ten times as sexy as one of those Gooks is that they don't 
hardly have any hair on 'em at all! I've seen girls eighteen years old, or 
at least their parents claimed they were eighteen, that had cunts as bare as 
little Raquel's." So, while she loved the smoothness of shaved underarms, 
she felt that, on the whole, it was far better to be sexy. And young Jeff 
obviously agreed with Brooks. 

She enjoyed sucking this boy's dick. There was the fiery wildness of her own 
cunt flavors on his cock. There was a lot of that super-smooth skin. She 
could even get her tongue under it, if she held it lightly with her 
lip-cushioned teeth, and run her tongue tip softly between skin and glans, 
making the boy twitch with indescribable pleasure. But she was getting into 
a problem. Her cunt was beginning to burn with a wet, sloppy, shivering itch 
because she loved it so. This cock. Or, as she acknowledged to herself, any 
cock. Why had she been so leery of having hit-and-run affairs while Brooks 
was gone? He was into sex, into that ivory-yellow, high-breasted, childishly 
cunted Vietnamese or Cambodia or Laotian pussy-bearers as soon as he could 
make a twenty-four-hour leave once they had tied up. He even went on 
dangerous little missions in small boats on the tidal rivers of those swampy 
countries. Those pitiable farmers, dying of hunger, cheerfully sold their 
barely nubile daughters to a boatload of sailors for a night or a week of 
gang-fucking. 

Her cunt was slipping and sliding its muscles against each other, like an 
inverted snake looking for prey. And the sweet cock in her mouth only made 
her ache the greater. Because she had thought she was drained, and she 
wasn't. Her cunt glow was once more a roaring inner fire, sluicing hot pussy 
juice out of her opened lips and down her leg. 

Now, Jeff was panting, and leaning forward so that he could milk on her 
titties with loving brutality, sending fiery little fingers of muted flame 
down to her belly, to her snatch. It gave her an idea. 

She did not let his throbbing peter out of her mouth, but she got up on her 
knees, then onto the chaise, so that her beautiful ass, spread wide in all 
its divided feminine glory of puckering ass-hole and drooling cunt, was in 
the air. She grunted and moved so that her tits swung toward him, and he got 
the idea, grabbing them both in his strong young hands. She was bobbing her 
head faster, up and down on his cock, and she was deeply pleased that he got 
this signal, pulling at her titties in the same frantic cadence. 

When she had this rhythmic and lovely feeling going just right, she 
straddled his leg and abruptly let her ass down on his outstretched leg. She 
was warmly, happily confident of what she was after. Not to have his toes go 
clear into her cunt. That was too much to hope. But there was his smoothly 
arched, ivory-skinned instep. Her entire pussy could cover it, wrap it, 
while she slid up and down it with all the slippery and itchy inner lips and 
inside of the outer lips found their cum-joy in the hard contact. 

He groaned with hot interest as he realized what she was doing. And, since 
he had learned how much the mind and the power of speech add to human 
fuck-promise, he moaned: "Oh, mama! Oh, sweet Mrs. Meredith! Fuck my foot, 
baby! Fuck my foot! Whoa!" and he clutched her head. "Go back a little. Get 
my big toe right in your cunt hole! I'll wiggle my toes! Man, what a scene! 
Come on, mama Sheri, fuck and suck! Fuck and suck!" 

She nearly screamed with the pain of bursting love as she maneuvered her 
flowing pussy over his toes. They went in, they touched her where she needed 
it most. 

The boy was hunching up at her, feeling the imminence of the crazy and 
silent fuck noise gathering in his balls, in his rigid young cock. He wished 
he could swallow her, that she could swallow him. He felt her body grow 
tense, and felt her gorgeous vaginal muscle clamp on his wiggling toes while 
floods of her juice tickled tl eir way down the bare soles of his feet. 

"Cum on, baby!" he yelled. "Oh, mar:, this is wild! OHHHHHHH! I'M 
CUMMIINNGGG!" 

She felt the warm blasts of hot jism .hooting deep into her throat, with 
most of them coming back to fill her cheeks. She swallowed as fast as she 
could, and then tried simply going down on his jet-firing cock until it was 
way down into her gullet, and the wet, hot slickness was going into her 
belly naturally, without even swallowing, although some back-blast was 
lashing across her grateful taste buds. 

Her cunt and belly were in a cramp from holding back her own fulfilling 
orgasm, but, as she felt his beautiful young cock throb out the last drops 
of his manly load, she let go. 

Her aching clit had been rubbing up and down on his smooth instep, and 
almost his entire foot was slimy sweet with her pouring cum flow. Her thick 
cunt lips were around his foot as if they were trying to swallow it. His 
toes, sticky with the richness of her inner flow, had long since fallen from 
their inside contact with her palpitant vagina. 

She was so immersed in this final blast of cumming that she could only gasp 
weak noises from her convulsing throat, her open mouth slack and spilling 
his jism out onto his flat belly. He thought she was the most beautiful 
sight he had ever seen. 

Her long, firm, heavy breasts lay alongside his thighs, with their nipples 
vastly swollen and intensely hard from the sweeping orgasm. Her dark hair 
tumbled over his body, and he could look down toward his feet, across the 
humid crack of her bountifully molded ass, and see the smoothness and beauty 
of her lovely thighs. 

While he was drawing his breath, trying to get back to a normal heartbeat, 
he felt a soft, slithering touch on his belly and, looking down, saw Mrs. 
Meredith licking up the spilled swirls of his jism. 

Before he went, his heart high with pride, he sat on the edge of her bed, 
his hand on her rump, gently stroking its firm, satin-smooth surface. She 
was tired with that exquisite tiredness that a hot-blooded woman feels after 
she has been given all the sex she needs. All the sucking, all the fucking, 
all the wild play that goes along with the enjoyment that men and women take 
in each other. It had been many years since she had felt this way. 

"You really weren't planning to come back, were you, Jeffie?" she asked 
softly, smiling with her eyes closed. "Now, aren't you glad you did?" 

"More than that," he whispered. "More than just glad. I never really thought 
you meant it, that I could do what I wanted to, say what I wanted to. Now, I 
think you mean it. All the time I've been sort of, well, scared when I 
thought about it. About fucking. And the rest of it. But you showed me that 
it's just a sweet, easy, loving thing to do." He looked very solemn, then 
brightened. "But I've still got a lot to learn. I mean, like about what you 
were saying. Other girls." 

She squeezed his hand. "You need someone to talk to," she murmured. "Someone 
who knows, isn't that right? Okay. Any time you want to, come and talk to 
me. Any time. like tomorrow." 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

On the firm double bed in Sandra Stone's room, she and her young friend 
Raquel Meredith worked at a problem. 

"I tell you, even if your mom never comes in without knocking, it scares me 
to do any more than just play stink-finger with you," the little blonde 
declared. "Not that that's such a big deal, after today!" She laughed. "I 
just can't believe it! Ooooohh!" She shuddered from an ecstatic memory. "The 
way a guy's cock shoots that stuff in your mouth! The way it tastes!" 

She threw herself from her cross-legged position onto the large, soft 
breasts of the dark girl and kissed her, sucking tongues in a shock of 
sexual craving. "Oh, my God, Sandy! I think I'll go crazy if I can't have it 
again!" 

She leaped and cried out as her friend reached under her slender bottom and 
dabbled sympathetic fingers warmly in the little blonde's flowing pussy. Her 
throbbing clitoris, the rose-pink inner labia that showed their fierce heat 
by their scarlet tracery of veins and their slobber of cunt juice, her 
girlishly tight vagina, all unified in a burst of carnal completion. 

Only the fact that the two maturing children were hungrily French kissing 
kept the outcries of their mutual orgasm from reaching Nancy Stone in her 
sewing room, where she sat in pleasant contemplation of her children and the 
way they seemed to be growing up. Jeff is so considerate of his sister, she 
mused happily. And she is actually quite tender about him. None of the usual 
sibling abrasiveness. None of the battle of the sexes, which so many girls 
feel it's necessary for them to enter. 

She even thought how sweet it was that Sandra, an older girl actually deep 
into pubescence, should continue her friendship with young Raquel Meredith. 
Almost two years older. And two years can make such a difference at their 
age. She permitted herself the dubious luxury of giving herself much of the 
credit. It's the mother, actually, who gives her life to the children, not 
the father. And, by setting an example of right living, gives kids a guiding 
light that will keep them safely on the right track. 

At just that instant, after she had recovered from her sharp burst of 
orgasm, Sandra Stone gasped: "I'm so hot I could die! You're not lying to 
me, are you? Did Jeff really shoot his jism in your mouth? And did 
he-Goddamn it! I just can't believe it-he just couldn't have sucked you 
off!" 

"If it wasn't so late, I'd stay here until Jeff gets home," the slender 
little blonde said, "and make him admit it!" She giggled mischievously. 
"You're just jealous that I got to him first!" 

They were lying roughly face to face, their mini-skirts up around their 
waists, their trembling, oozing young cunts open to the cooling air. Each 
had a hand working languidly around or near the other's palpitating crotch, 
their two hearts thudding strongly, regularly, easing down from the heights 
of their mutual masturbation. The careless disarray of their young limbs, 
their rumpled clothing, their tousled hair, and the brightness of their 
expressions, so filled with sex and love, made a beautiful picture. 

"I hate for you to go," Sandy whispered. "I wish you could stay all night. 
But we have to go to school tomorrow." She made a bleating little sound, not 
quite a sob, not quite a laugh. "I could just play pussy-pussy with you all 
night long!" 

She rose and turned, inflamed by the thought, and planted a kiss wetly on 
the tiny girl's warm belly. "You do have more cunt hair," she whispered, 
running her fingers through the baby-fine fringe of yellow hair. "And your 
cunt lips are so fat! As big as mine! I'll bet they're as big as mom's." 

"Not as big as my mom's," Rocky laughed shakily. "Man, has she got 'em! I've 
seen her when she doesn't think I'm looking-when she doesn't even know I'm 
there, to tell the truth-and, wow! Big and thick and slick. And real dark 
red." She felt a twinge of ambivalence. She loved her mother as much as a 
teen or sub-teen can, but there were so many areas of conflict, real and 
self-induced, between a mother and daughter. But she forgot this and her 
slight young loins humped convulsively forward as her older friend suddenly 
kissed down between her thighs, between her smooth, fat young cunt lips. 

"Oh, golly, kid!" she breathed huskily. "Don't start up if we can't finish! 
I'd suck your pussy like an orange, except I'm so scared your mom'll bust in 
here!" But she clamped her fingers in Sandy's dark hair, thrusting her 
twitching, burning little cunt at her friend's face. 

They were both startled by a soft knock on the door, a pleasant voice softly 
calling: "Sandra! I'm going downtown to pick up your father! He's leaving 
his car for some work tonight. Do you hear me?" 

The dark girl with the large, soft titties winked at her little friend. 
"Sure, Mom, I hear you. Can I do anything for you while you're gone?" 
Silently, she mouthed, to Rocky: "See? I told you." 

"No, thanks, dear," Nancy Stone said, obviously delighted at her child's 
response. "You and Rocky have fun. Rocky, will you be all right? Shouldn't 
you call your mother?" 

"Naw, Mrs. Stone," the little girl brazenly remarked, sitting braced against 
her arms, her cute, pink pussy open and emitting its sticky little 
contribution of white cum juice. "Mom doesn't worry about me." 

Not like I do about my little chick, Nancy Stone thought virtuously. She 
sighed. She just hoped that that Navy wife, at least occasionally, took the 
time to try and give her child some spiritual values. She subscribed 
wholeheartedly to the greeting card platitude that God, knowing he couldn't 
be everywhere, had created mothers. And thus, having accepted being 
deputized as a surrogate God, she not only surrendered the conventional idea 
of His omipresence, but took on part of His role in judging other mothers. 

"Boy, is she something," Sandra whispered as they heard Mrs. Stone shut the 
front door and, in a moment , drive away. "Strictly from another planet! 
Well, come on. What are you waiting for?" 

And she shucked her clothes off, proud of the size and weight and rosy 
delights of her young breasts. "Wow! As those dumb Jack LaLanne ads say, I 
want your body!" 

Jeff Stone owned a measure of pride and content which he had never thought 
he would experience. In just two days, hardly more than one twenty-four-hour 
period, really, he had, although he would not realize this for years to 
come, a concentration of sexuality that few men ever know. "I can't believe 
it," he whispered to himself as he wheeled his bike into the Stone driveway, 
and back to the garage, where he affixed the lock to it. 

He saw the light in his sister's room. He had seen his mom backing out into 
the street as he had come around the corner, and had slowed to let her get 
out of the way. For all he knew, women could sense what had happened to a 
guy. Maybe his mom could smell the sweet incense of cunt all around him. It 
seemed to him that it clung to his hair, to his clothes, to his fingers. 
Especially to his lips and cheeks and nose. 

His sneakers were silent on the concrete drive, and he heard the sound of 
Sandy's voice. "Talking on the phone," he judged, and hoped he could slip 
into her room and find her lying on her belly. 

He knew from his peeping that she seldom wore panties unless their mother 
forced her to. Now, aroused to new confidence by all that had happened, and, 
at least waveringly, believing that Mrs. Meredith had meant that all girls 
wanted fucking, and that "all girls" meant his sister, he felt that he could 
look Sandy in the eye and say: "Let's fuck." 

Although, of course, he knew he couldn't ever do that. No matter what Mrs. 
Meredith said. He couldn't even say that to her, until after they'd gotten, 
uh, pretty well warmed up. Until she had said it, really. And he knew 
Sandy'd never say that. 

He opened the door noiselessly, the door into the house. 

He need not have been so careful. The girls would have noticed nothing short 
of a Greyhound bus driving through the bedroom. Mouth to cunt, lips 
burrowing into gooey pink channels of juicily responsive membrane, tongues 
curling fiercely into fluttering little pink cunt holes, they were happily 
far beyond the weight and care of reality. 

In the darkness of the living room, Jeff could see the wide bar of light in 
the hall that said Sandy's bedroom door was open. And he could not hear her 
voice. He was disappointed. He had had a picture of her in his mind, lying 
prone, her neat mini-skirt well up on her plump thighs. And no panties on. 
And he would tiptoe in, softly, and plunge his hand right into the humid 
crack between those lovely young ass-cheeks. Into the sweetly overflowing 
pussy he had fingered last night. In among the velvety folds swimming in 
their own gamy cunt juice. In among those mysteriously lovely pads of soft, 
grainy tissue that were anchored just inside a woman's cunt. 

Why not? Mrs. Meredith had them. She had urged him to finger all around 
inside, to explore, to ask questions. And she had humped and bumped and 
squealed in grown-up joy, excitedly saying: 

"Rub me with your thumb, baby! Right up by my-OHHHH! GOD!-my CLIT! OHHHH! 
Oh, baby!" and she had comfortably bumped away. Another cum. He felt proud. 
Now, he wanted to do that with his sister. Of course he wouldn't dare say to 
her: "Let's fuck." But maybe, just maybe, if he got his finger into her 
bubbling, juicy little cunt, she would say it. 

He had gradually inched his way nearer his sister's bedroom door, puzzled 
and wondering where she had gotten to, when he heard a very slight sound, 
like the sucking noise a tiny baby makes when he wants to nurse. And along 
with it, to his keen and delighted, ears, a girlish voice saying: "God! I 
wish we could fuck!" 

It was his dream come true. He would not have . to say what he wanted so 
much to say. It was already said. His cock, mysteriously, had hardened 
almost instantly as he had paused under Sandy's window and heard her 
talking, as he thought, on the telephone. He had never ingested any of the 
negative ideas fed into the minds of young boys about "depleting" 
themselves. Instead of the prissy, sissy books on the "What A Young Man 
Ought to Know" order, he had hotly delved into the skin mags and pseudo 
documentaries concerning a variety of sexual relations offered by the 
so-called "adult" bookstores near the Naval Training School. He did not fear 
that the wonderful fuck power in his young nuts might be damaged by use. Or 
overuse. As long as it would come up, he flogged his exuberant prick when 
bright mental pictures made him desire a cum. Now, so beautifully sucked 
into the realities of sex, which were certainly a hundred times better, his 
young gonads were instinctively and happily working overtime to replenish 
his seminal reservoirs. 

If he had said it to himself once in the past two days, he had said it a 
hundred times. Devotionally, worshipfully. "I can't believe it!" He could 
not know that little Rocky, and his sister Sandra, and his loving friend 
Mrs. Meredith, had all cherished the same thought in their minds. It had had 
a magical quality for all of them. And now, as he stood outside Sandy's 
room, letting his belt go loose, pushing down his slacks and shorts, hearing 
the echo of that lovely, sweet voice: "I wish we could fuck!" 

He was not stricken dumb when he went swiftly into his sister's room, so 
swiftly that he was by her bed before he realized it was not one naked body, 
but two, that writhed there. It had been two days of unbelievably wonderful 
happenings. Why should another unbelievable joy seem impossible? 

The two girls were startled out of their wits. Far from being utterly safe, 
as they had believed, they were utterly vulnerable. And, much as they were 
into this bit of hotness and wantonly lascivious sex, they had the immediate 
feminine anger at being "caught" by a boy. 

"You nosy creature!" Sandy shouted. "You mean, spying old boy!" And she had 
used little Rocky as she would have used a sheet or a blanket, pulling the 
slight but feminine body over her own nakedness like a shield. But her fury 
was diluted by her own lust, and by the near, clear sight of that delicious 
spear of flesh which she and her young friend had been hungering for. And 
Rocky, too, was dashing her anger away with her laughter. 

Indeed, it was Rocky who showed the most presence of mind. 

"I saw it first," she gasped, looking up at Jeff from under her light, long 
eyelashes, and holding his cock. "I get first dibs on this old peter!" and 
she smothered her own light laugh of joy by swallowing all of the hard prick 
that she could. 

And young Jeff, suddenly freed from fear, rolled over between his sister's 
beautifully rounded thighs, hugging them to him, holding them apart, and 
rooting slickly among the hairy outer lips to find the moist, crinkled, 
pinkly delicious valley of flowing flesh, sucking passionately on the raw 
nerves in his sister's already trigger-quickened young cunt. 

He closed his eyes to enjoy the delights of it, the richness of taste, the 
intensity of fragrance. It was so like Mrs. Meredith's, so like little 
Rocky's. And still, it had a difference. And the soft, wet young lips he 
mouthed, they were so tender and sweet. 

Blindly, he flung his free hand up and Sandra took it, kissing it, licking 
between his fingers, herself so blind with sudden fuck lust that she did not 
even know she was sucking an older woman's cunt-flavors from the webbing of 
her brother's digits. And then there was the deep heat that seemed to spread 
all about her loins, racing up her belly to her boobs. Or was it the other 
way around? She feverishly pressed her brother's hand on her young, soft 
titty, flooding it with an ache of such intense beauty that she moaned in 
ecstasy. 

And then she felt her shoulder being pushed and her hair pulled. And there 
not too far from her face, she saw the rapidly humping lower torso of her 
friend Rocky, and realized in her red haze of lust that the blonde child was 
sucking Jeff's cock. It was too much for her. 

She felt so beautiful, herself, spread out in such a marvelous fashion by 
her brother's curly, dark head while his tongue licked her cunt so 
feelingly. Her big, heavy young breast was so gorgeously being plucked and 
squeezed by his hand. And she was on the ragged edge of a cum more 
wonderful, she believed, than any she had ever known. 

She did the only thing she could do. 

She dived directly at the nearly hairless pussy that was opening and closing 
convulsively right at her face. She took it all in, or as much as her mouth 
would hold. She got the fat outer lips, sucking them so hard she felt them 
slide through her teeth and then out. And then her hard young tongue was 
battering into the purple-pink cluster of swollen inner labia, down to the 
open but miniature fuck hole, and she was sucking Rocky's cuntal opening so 
hard that the feverish vaginal walls were rasping together from her loving 
suction. 

She felt the blonde child heave as the trigger of cumming blasted in the 
juvenile cunt. With her lips and tongue, she felt a humming vibration, and 
knew that Rocky was screaming silently around the choking cock in her mouth. 

She felt her own pussy seem to turn inside out, every nerve in it joining in 
a mutely gorgeous scream of sensitivity and love. Oh, God, wasn't her 
brother great? How could he know to do these things? Her body tried to fuck 
into his face in a way that would engulf him cuntwise, draw him into her 
young belly entirely, so that she could feel him forever, turning and 
squirming inside her unbelievable cunt. 

But the most gorgeous surprise that the girls had was that Jeff had not cum. 

"You're fantastic!" they told him in their admiring, high voices, frigging 
his cock, kissing him with their cum-smeared mouths, holding their young 
breasts to his mouth to get his swallowing, sucking kisses. They were all 
quite mad, until there was a sweep of headlamps by the lightly curtained 
window, a whiz of tires and the slight squeak of braked rubber. 

For a moment they were transfixed by fear and indecision, but Jeff, forced 
to act as leader, gasped: "Grab your clothes up and get into 'em in the 
bathroom!" 

He dashed into the hall and retrieved his pants and shorts, and ran into his 
own room, where he turned on the lights, singing all the while in a loud 
voice about the mysteries of love. 

He even stuck his head out his door to shout: "Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!" as his 
parents came in, and heard his dad's gentle reply: "Oh, hello there, Jeff!" 

His hard-on had disappeared as miraculously as it had come. He did not know 
it, but he would suffer no stone-ache. He had had his share of sex for 
today. He might like to think about it, he might even be able to perform if 
the occasion arose. But he did not need any. 

He had had it. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Friday was a dreadful day for Sheri Meredith. She had run into a moral and 
emotional impasse which involved her own child and the oldest child of her 
neighbor and nodding acquaintance at occasional school functions, Mrs. Nancy 
Stone. 

As many service wives do, she felt a sort of inherent antagonism toward 
civilians. Since their husbands, in the main, made more money than Navy men, 
at least from the rank of Chief on down, Sheri felt that those civilian 
wives were snooty. Or that they tended to laugh at service wives behind 
their backs. 

But, as she reviewed it, she could not have gone to Nancy Stone about this 
matter, even if the other woman had lived in Building Eleven, Nimitz Park, 
and was the wife of some other Navy Chief. 

She had hardly slept a wink last night. She had never believed she could be 
dominated by a child, especially by her own little daughter. But Raquel had 
been so, well, cruel. Cruel was the only word that would fit. At first she, 
Sheri, had been furious. "I should have slapped her right on her pretty 
little ass when she called me an old cunt," Sheri said viciously, her fists 
clenched. "Coming in and kissing me and almost spitting in my face! Saying 
she tasted jism when she kissed me!" She had to stop talking to herself. Her 
voice was breaking and she was very close to tears. 

For the umpteenth time, she relived the horrible, painful, shocking scene. 

She had languidly enjoying the tingling, full sensation of having had the 
greatest sexual experience of her life. Lying on her big bed, looking at the 
big-screen color TV set that Brooksy had brought home from Japan on the tour 
before last. Her breasts were, she knew, larger and firmer than they usually 
were. This was always true, a week before her period. But it was nine or ten 
days before she was due. And anyhow, this was different. The old boobs were 
swollen and tender, but in a much more sexy way than when she had the rag 
on. Or had the plug up her, would be more like it, but she still, in 
occasional lapses, used the term that Brooksy had used when she first knew 
him. When she was Sheri MacAndrew, working as a part of the civilian force 
at a Navy installation downtown. 

She felt her breasts now, her tear-stained face lugubrious. She had been so 
happy in that hour or two after Jeffie had left, and before Rocky had come 
home. 

"Little bitch!" Sheri hissed now, remembering. But it was so hard to stay 
mad at your kid, your little daughter. Even if she had been so mean, so 
hurting. 

So there Sheri was, just reminiscing, feeling so wonderful. It wasn't just 
that Jeff, in his enthusiasm, his-what could you call it?-maybe it had to be 
called innocence. Because honestly, the sweet little old hard-petered baby, 
he didn't know feces about sex. Just instinct. But Jesus Christ, what an 
instinct! It wasn't just that, through him, she had enjoyed more sex than 
she had known in a like period for years. To be truthful, it was more and 
better sex than she had known in all her life. 

She acknowledged it without regret for her years with Brooksy, without 
sadness over the fact that it could not last. She had just caught a young 
kid at exactly the right time, when he was running around in what Brooksy 
called the "red-petered stage." Horny all the time, and having absolutely no 
idea of what to do about it. Afraid to talk to girls his own age. Scared 
cockeyed to go to some whore downtown, for fear of getting clapped up. Not 
hep enough to go to a massage parlor. And anyhow, ten bucks to a hustler, or 
fifteen to a masseuse who could not, on the whole, be called five dollars 
better, that was a hell of a lot to a kid, even one who carried the Tribune 
and made himself a hundred or more a month. 

No, what he needed-and he had been lucky, just as she had-was an older 
woman, one who would teach him, give him her mature, knowledgeable, and, she 
flattered herself, sweetly tight cunt and guide him into all the uses he 
could make of it. To guide his natural instincts into the sweetness of 
lapping at her blood-gorged labia, her throbbing clit, even as she took his 
sweet young cock into her knowing mouth and released the feverish load of 
slickness from his balls. 

What he needed! Her heart had been so light, thinking of how she was 
providing him with so much that was good for him. Someone to keep him from 
living in uncomfortable fear of the girls in his own class at school, his 
own neighborhood. Someone to talk to when he was in doubt, or scared, or 
confused.' Why hell, he could even come to her if, in some little old affair 
with some kid, he picked up a dose. A Medic on the station, an old friend of 
hers, had told her that, on the nights he moonlighted in a small civilian 
hospital, taking night calls for a doctor in San Diego, he saw ten cases of 
V.D. on a good night. "If it goes on this way," he had laughed, "everyone 
between fifteen and twenty will have clap within five years." 

That was really all she had wanted. To help Jeff. To let him know things. 
And, naturally, to fuck him and suck him. Didn't he need that, too? Didn't 
all boys that age need that? 

Yes, she had been feeling marvelous. Not getting hot and cunt-slobbery, 
since she had had her ashes hauled so well and so often. She must have cum 
fifteen times altogether, counting that first day, and then again, on that 
wonderful yesterday. Fifteen? More like twenty. Oh, she was stoked, a 
little, but really, just warm and nice, in a happy sort of way. And with her 
boobs so full and so tingly, so warm and sensitive. God, they'd felt as if 
they weighed ten pounds apiece! And it was a good feeling, having them so 
alive and firm and with her nipples swollen and poking out like hard little 
old pricks. 

"What the hell business was it of Rocky's if she was naked? And playing with 
her tits? The little snot had had no business walking in on her like that. 
And being so sneaky. Because it was weird, the way little Raquel had 
changed. 

She had come in with her head high and almost prancing, her head high like 
when she had tried out for majorette at the junior high school. And happy. 
And paying no attention to her mother being naked. Why the hell should she? 
"She's seen me bare-assed a million times," Sheri said chokingly, 
remembering last night and its pain and meanness. 

What had happened? Little Rocky had actually been more affectionate than 
usual. She had dropped on her knees by the bed, not even noticing that her 
mother was naked, or that she was having a bit of innocent pleasure 
squeezing her titties and thinking of Jeffie. "And when she kissed me," 
Sheri whispered, once more thinking hard about last night, "it was weird. So 
loving. Almost as if she was going to tongue me. Crazy!" 

And that was when the stuff hit the fan. 

From a warm, loving daughter, that silly little kid had turned mean as a 
snake. 

"You old whore!" she had cried, leaping up, with her words striking Sheri 
harder than a man's fist. "You old cunt! Sucking that innocent little old 
kid! Don't worry, I know what jism tastes like, too! You could've at least 
washed out your cock-sucking mouth!" like someone gone completely crazy, and 
with Sheri totally unable to do anything to control her because, to tell the 
truth, Rocky's words had just simply mowed her down. 

So, she had let the kid rip, and kept her own mouth shut, and was able to 
piece it together. Rocky was jealous! Sheri knew crazy jealousy when she saw 
it. But when and how had her little kid had time or opportunity to do all 
she claimed? 

"I've sucked him off, too," she had screamed. "Why do you have to pick on a 
little kid? I saw him first! I knew him a long time before he came by here 
to hustle you for a subscription! I'm the one who had him come by! And you 
grabbed him!" 

On this Friday, so many sad hours after that awful scene, Sheri still 
couldn't make head or tail of it. How had Rocky known so much about her 
mother's harmless little business with that kid? "Don't think you're getting 
away with it," the child had stormed. "I know all about you! Fucking Jeff 
and sucking him! All over the house!" 

And she, Sheri, had been so damn mad at that big-mouthed little kid that she 
had at last screamed: "Get out of here, you dirty little bitch! Before I 
pinch your head off and flush you down the commode!" And Rocky had gone to 
her room, looking strangely pleased with herself. And later, when Sheri had 
cooled off and knocked on the girl's door, she'd had no response. 

And now, with the poor little kid away at school, there was nothing she 
could do. Only feel bad. And all that lovely warmth and sweetly tickling 
itch gone out of her big old sloppy cunt, and her boobs just felt big and 
sore. And when Jeff came around this afternoon-if he did come around-how 
could she even look at him? Because Rocky had made it pretty plain that Jeff 
had blabbed about it. Else how would the kid know that she and the boy had 
fucked all over the place? 

But Jeff was just as excited and full of life and love as Sheri was sad and 
self-pitying. He had gone to bed so filled with the joys of being male that 
he would have sneaked in and shoved it into his sister's marvelously mature 
cunt. The taste and ripeness of it had been amazing. And to suck her, to 
nibble and lick in that soft, slick cluster of little folds while the other 
chick had been sucking his cock, wow! What a feeling! But he hadn't even 
cum. Either it was iron control, or he had had his quota of pussy, of 
cumming, for that day. 

He grinned, thinking about it, getting a deep, stirring feel in his cock, a 
hard throb, a swelling that promised a real good hard-on. And last night, 
well, even if he didn't cum in Rocky's face, even if he didn't go in when 
the folks were settled, and stick it into his sister's warm, wet pussy, it 
was okay. 

There was a reason for not going into Sandy's bed and getting his good old 
cock into Sandy's hot little pussy. 

He had fallen asleep! 

So he really must have had all he needed. Now, he felt like a big man, 
really grown up. He shrugged. "Of course," he muttered, "I've still got some 
things to learn." But he knew where he could learn them. And as soon as he 
threw his last paper-"my next-to-last paper," he corrected himself with a 
grin-he'd start learning some of them. 

Sandy had sure played it cool. She was giggling about it as she walked along 
Rosecrans Boulevard with Rocky. "I acted just like I always do at 
breakfast," she said. "I'm usually kind of grumpy, so I didn't even talk to 
Jeff. But when mom went out to the car to drive dad downtown, and Jeff and I 
were out in the driveway, I gave him a kiss that must've raised him two feet 
off the ground!" 

"I feel sort of like a shit," the tiny blonde girl said. "I just blew my top 
with mom. You know, getting off with you sucking me out, but not getting 
Jeff to cum in my mouth-well, it just seemed as if he had gotten drained by 
my mom. And I was in a kind of funny mood. You know, feeling like mom had 
always put me down. You know how grown-ups do that to you. And sneaking away 
while she was in the bathroom. I even threatened to phone my dad in Nam, or 
wherever he is, and tell him all of it." 

She grinned. "You know why I couldn't do that," she said knowingly. "I'd 
have to tell him how come I know so much about what cum-juice tastes like." 

The two children laughed helplessly, standing on the sidewalk with their 
books, hanging all over each other. But they stopped suddenly when Sandra 
said: "But, kid, you told your mother!" 

The beautifully childish face of the smaller girl went through changes, from 
laughter to stillness to sadness, and big tears swelled in her blue eyes. 
She turned to Sandra and put her hand on the dark girl's arm. "I just 
remembered something," she choked out. "Why I didn't mind mom knowing! I've 
got to go home!" 

"Hey, wait a minute," Sandra exclaimed. "Did you forget? My mom's downtown 
shopping. She'll be gone all afternoon. We can have the whole house to 
ourselves!" She pouted, unconsciously thrusting her pelvis forward in mute 
offering of her concealed vulva and all her juicy goodies. "I'm sort of hot, 
baby!" she said. But Sandy had to go home alone. And puzzled. 

She really had wanted to get Rocky to find out something. She knew that she 
couldn't ask her mother such a thing. Because she wanted to find out if a 
girl could have a baby if it was her brother that shot off inside her cunt. 
And also, could a girl her age take the Pill without her mother being able 
to tell. And she had a feeling that Rocky could ask her mother. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

Girls were hard to understand. At least, real young girls were. Jeff Stone 
felt that he had had some kind of release, after he kissed little old Rocky 
Meredith good-bye in the linen room. Just a nice sort of kiss, too. He had 
tried to get his tongue into her mouth, and he had gotten his hand up her 
dress and his fingers into her tight, slippery little cunt. But she had just 
smiled at him and pulled away. " 

"I want you to tell mom something," she had said. "That's why I waited for 
you here. So we could talk about it." But he wondered. She could have talked 
about that kind of thing right out on the sidewalk. And she really had 
pumped her cute little old body against him in a rapid-fire fucking motion 
when he had stuck his two fingers into her pussy and wiggled them around. 

"Just tell mom you saw me down on Rosecrans," the sweet little kid had 
begged. "Honest, Jeff, I mean it. On Rosecrans. And I was with Sandy, and 
tell her I love her." 

"Hey, I can't do that," the boy had protested. "She'll think I'm nuts!" 

The little blonde had really hugged him, then, rubbing her tits on him, 
smiling, laughing. But why were the tears running out of her eyes? 

"Never mind why I'm crying," Rocky said. "Tell mom I never meant what I 
said. You hear me? Tell her I love her, and that I never meant a word of 
what I said last night." 

She pushed him out of the linen room, but said: "Hey!" and he turned back. 
"Remember, you saw me on Rosecrans and I was with Sandy. Going home with 
her. And I won't be back for, oh, three hours; Don't you forget it!" 

He was frankly puzzled, in the way a young guy is when he first is conscious 
of the peculiar differences in a girl's way of thinking as compared to his 
own. But he was as happy as a boar with nine sows. All afternoon for Mrs. 
Meredith. Or anyhow, three hours. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

"Can you come in for a few minutes, Jeffrey?" Mrs. Meredith asked him. She 
seemed sort of funny. like she was afraid to be herself, scared, or ashamed, 
or something nutty. And he thought: Oh-oh, she's got some company here and 
has to be careful what she says. 

Nevertheless, he came in, acting as polite as the woman did, but wondering 
what was going on. He looked and listened, and when he didn't see or hear 
anyone, he went up close to her and put his hand right where he'd been 
thinking of. Right on her pussy. He could feel the hair on it, too, right 
through her dress, and he could feel the warmth that made it so lovely. It 
made him want her, too, and his hard-on, which had been with him at least to 
some degree all the long day, and had jumped up more when he had gone into 
the linen room and stuck his finger in little Rocky's cunt-well, it just 
really came on strong. 

"Gee, Mrs. Meredith," he said, not feeling that his voice was choking, the 
way he had felt yesterday, "I sure am glad to see you!" And he had hugged 
her, getting his skinny but strong young arms around her beautiful hips, his 
hands meeting in the warm valley between her ass-cheeks. He was just so full 
of fuck-joy that he could have shouted out loud. But he felt she was 
troubled about something, so all he did was press in deep with his fingers, 
where he knew her sensitive places were, her cunt and her ass-hole, and 
nuzzle his face real hard into the softness of her big breasts. He could 
feel their warmth on his face, and he made cooing noises unconsciously, 
because there was, maybe fourteen years deep in his fifteen-year-old psyche, 
the urge to suck and suck on those nobly carved titties, to break the old, 
dry seal that hid their milk, to get his soul's nourishment from her body. 

Without meaning to, without knowing why she did it, Sheri Meredith picked 
the boy up like a baby, crooning to him, while tears coursed down her 
cheeks. She felt a thousand years old. 

She went into the bedroom and lay down, still holding the slender boy. He 
was puzzled but happy. There was some mystic tie-up between them where the 
mother and the mother-cunt and the mother-breast all wanted him. Neither 
could have stated it, neither, perhaps, could have understood it. 
Nevertheless, both were internally moved by it. 

So that somehow, no one could say exactly when it happened, her simple 
wrap-around dress became simply a large oblong of fabric on the bed, and 
there was a gorgeously naked woman lying on it, holding a boy whose hard-on 
proved that he wasn't a baby. 

"I shouldn't be doing this," Sheri moaned, but her hand was jacking the 
loose skin on Jeff's dick up and down, with so gentle a hand that it was 
like a baby's kiss. And he, having no idea what vultures tore at her 
insides, gleefully found his buttons and his zipper, and rolled out of his 
clothes, too. 

There was still that deep mystery of mother-fucking on them both, and this 
was a different sort of meeting than they had known on the two previous 
days. Jeff, for example, was not so quick to bury his salivating mouth in 
Sheri's cunt, and she, still moaning softly: "I shouldn't be doing this," 
made no effort to force any joining any more sexual than the mere fact of 
having their bare bodies warmly together. And young Jeff went along with 
this tenderness without having the least idea that it was because he loved 
her and wanted her to get over the unhappiness she was showing. 

But even the most noble of motives can be washed out in cunt juice, or 
cancelled by that itchy stiffness in a boy's cock. Tears or no tears, Jeff's 
happiness made him start kissing Sheri along her arm, up in her armpit where 
dark hair held the earthy humanity of her sweat-scent, and from there it was 
only a short move to suck one of the dark, hard nipples into his mouth. 

She was so moved by it that she sat up. He drew back, puzzled but smiling. 
"I want you," he whispered. "I want to get it into you, into your cunt!" 

She held him against her, rocking back and forth. "What have I done to you, 
Jeffie?" she whispered hoarsely. "I only meant to help you, to give you what 
you needed." His hand did not notice what she was saying, it went straight 
down into the warm and hairy nest where her thick cunt lips, popped open by 
her cross-legged position, exposed the sweetness and smoothness between 
them, and his eager fingers went into the warmth and the slickness, creating 
a shudder of sensuality all through her. 

"Baby, we can't," she moaned. "I'm afraid I've caused you trouble. I have to 
send you away before Rocky gets home." 

He leaped away from her, smacking the heel of his hand to his forehead. "How 
dumb can you get?" he groaned. He leaned down and kissed one of her breasts 
and raised up, smiling. 

"I saw Rocky," he said. "She's gone to my house with my sister. She said to 
tell you-uh, to tell you-listen, this makes me feel like a fool, you know. 
But she said to tell you that she loves you. Honest, she really did!" he 
cried, for the woman put her face in her hands and began to sob. "She 
said-hey, now, listen to me, hear?" and he put his hand on her warm, naked 
shoulder pleadingly. "Listen. She said she never meant a word of what she 
said last night. Does that make any sense?" 

There was suddenly a deeper feeling in the heart-in fact, in all the vital 
parts-of Sheri Meredith than she had ever known before. Where she had felt 
the weight of years, she was now light with the fires of youth. Where her 
breasts had simply felt oversized and sore, they now seemed as light as 
balloons, as delightfully sensitive as a young girl's on her first period. 
But there was no fierceness in her as she reached for Jeff, only a deep 
tenderness. 

"My baby," she said, and opened her mouth to let his tongue in, sucking it 
gently, then probing with her tongue all around in his cheeks and against 
his smooth gums. She had his cock in her hand, stroking it gently, in no 
hurry. When they drew apart, she stroked his cheeks, looking at him with all 
her love in her face. "What do you want me to do?" she asked softly. "I 
don't mean anything wild. I'll do it, whatever you say, but is there 
something you need to know?" 

He laughed and pushed her back on the bed. "I want to do a lot of things," 
he said. "But we don't have to hurry, do we? And you feel okay, now, don't 
you? Why were you worried about Rocky? Or about me?" 

She looked up, seeing the seriousness back of his smile. 

"Rocky was mad at me last night," she said simply. "She said a lot of bad 
things. She claimed she knew all about-well, about you and me." 

He looked his unbelief, and she held his arm. "You didn't tell her anything, 
did you?" she asked. "No, don't answer. I know you didn't. You couldn't." 

He leaned down and kissed this older woman, this naked mother figure, on her 
gorgeous belly, as smooth and warm and beautifully fashioned as his young 
sister's. "She tricked me, that same way," he said. "I think that, uh, 
someone else told her something I may have done." She had never known him to 
be evasive before, and it tickled her. He needed to know something, but he 
was going to have to be very careful. 

"You fucked her," she said gently. "At least, I hope you did. You know, you 
said, the first time-no, it was later-you said to me: 'You're tighter than 
... and then you stopped and said something else. Were you going to say I 
was tighter than Rocky?" 

"No! Not that!" He was shouting. "I never touched her until yesterday." He 
grinned. "Would it be okay with you if I had stuck it in her?" he asked, 
eyeing her sidewise. "Did you mean it when you said you wished I had fucked 
her?" 

In a quiet way, he had been finger-fucking the older woman, and it just felt 
so warm, so good, that she could have cum, just from the sheer good 
sensation of it, the abounding, easy, warm sensuality of having this boy's 
long, slender fingers stretching the tenderest part of her cunt. And her 
body was moving in cadence, not hard and fast, just a sinuous weaving, as if 
she was trying to rub the heart of her cunt against his hand. Both were 
intent on the feeling they were getting, but not to the exclusion of other 
things. 

"Rocky sucked me off," he said simply. "She had heard that it was a hot 
thing to do, and that it tasted good. She said she knew about you and me, 
and about me and, well, someone else that I barely know. like, well, she 
lied about part of it." 

He was so fussed that her heart went out to him. Her cunt was wrapping 
around his fingers, and her inner muscles were softly sucking at his 
knuckles. "You'll tell me all about it some day," she whispered. "If you 
want to. And if you don't want to, that's all right, too. You know that, 
don't you? If I don't get upset about you and Rocky-why would someone else 
make a difference?" 

The boy blushed, and Sheri let it go. Something he was afraid about, or 
ashamed of. She wouldn't press him. Instead, she whispered: "That feels so 
good! Do you know, Jeffie, that you're the youngest boy I ever did these 
things with? You sure seem to know where my hot-feeling places are. How 
come?" 

He bent down and kissed her gently, and his free hand held one of her deeply 
sculptured breasts, squeezing it tenderly, the big nipple sticking out dark 
and hard between his fingers. 

"I read some of it," he said, and giggled. "And you told me some of it. 
Yesterday or day before. Is this a good place?" 

He was sitting alongside her left hip, directly above her, and his fingers 
could go straight down, deep into her sheath. He was feeling around in the 
sloppy-warm folds, and her fine muscles were moving up and down along his 
fingers, making him laugh as he felt their kiss. He was actually touching 
her guts, and she felt the sweet-sick pain that was so marvelous. To know 
she was a woman, with that wonderful place where a hand-or a cock-could 
penetrate into the blood-heat of her belly. 

Her outer lips were spread by her heat, their slick inner folds looking 
slippery and dark red, so beautiful and hot looking in their rich frame of 
dark curly hair. His cock was hard and ready, and he looked at this woman's 
genitals and loved them, knowing that she was, in real truth, giving him a 
great deal. He knew that she was getting what she wanted, too, but he also 
knew there were just a hell of a lot of women who had it to give and didn't 
give it. And wouldn't. 

Her belly muscles were moving in a sort of rhythm with the inner caress he 
felt on his fingers. He looked at her and saw that her eyes were closed, the 
tiny blue veins standing out in the fine skin of her eyelids. 

Moving gently, he got on his knees and bent over her crotch. His fingers 
were wide enough and her cunt was tight enough so that some of the 
vein-reddened lining pulled out, slick and warm with her cum-fluids. And in 
the exposed valley of flowing, wet inner lips, he saw the rigid end of her 
tiny fuck-stick, the tiny little replica of a man's prick, the center of 
woman's sensitivity. And he bent and kissed it, sucked it, with all the 
tenderness in his essentially pure young heart. 

It was so wonderful to Jeff, making this marvelous woman cum so good, so 
strong, and still without all that wildness and hollering. It was sort of 
like he was, yesterday, when he got her to suck him off, after he had fucked 
her and sucked her. Only then, she was fucking herself up and down his leg, 
and hadn't her cunt ever felt good and sloppy and warm! Wow! But he just 
kept his fingers moving gently inside his wonderful friend, smelling the 
musky richness that is found only in a healthy, hot woman's pussy, and 
tasting the lovely wildness that matches the cunt-smell. 

Her hand on his head was light, and she was not yelling, just gasping out 
little cries that told him how great he was doing her, how good he was at 
sucking her off. And her juice was shooting out over his fingers so that he 
could suck some of it up, making that silly noise you get when a shake is 
down to the bottom, and the straw is making those bubbly sounds. Cunt! God! 
It was so marvelous! And nobody mad at anybody. That girl, that Rocky! Boy, 
was he ever going to stick his dick into her little old baby cunt first 
chance he got! And he sucked at her mother's happily throbbing clitoris, 
drinking the rich flow of her cunt ooze, jamming his fingers deep into her. 

His wrist was cramped and his fingers numb when, at last, Mrs. Meredith's 
body stopped its rhythmic movements. Her big breasts were still jiggling 
softly, and there were tears coming out from under her closed eyelids. She 
reached for him and he went down into her arms, mashing her boobs under him, 
loving the salty warmth of her sweated lips as he kissed her. 

His cock was about to break off, it was so hard. He'd be willing to bet he 
could cum twice in ten minutes, it felt so wild and so cummy. His balls were 
knotted up in a little, tight sac and if he didn't spill this load 
somewhere, and soon, they were going to ache like hell in a few minutes. But 
he wished Mrs. Meredith would decide. Where she wanted it, like. 

Some information of his dilemma must have passed through the mystic line of 
ESP that hovered between them. The soft-breasted, warm-cunted woman opened 
her eyes and blinked away her tears, seeing the tension in Jeff's face and 
the jerking throbs of his hard young cock. She eased him off her and got up 
on one elbow. She smiled at him, a smile of equality and love. 

"How'd you like to stick it in me from the back?" she asked softly. "I'll 
bet you never did that." 

"No, ma'am, I never did," he said soberly. And then, his face lighting with 
a broad grin, "Geez! I'll bet that looks horny!" 

She let him help her get placed "just right." She knew that her ass, while 
not really big, would look sexily enormous to this young boy, and that the 
puckered brown ass-hole and pinkly bubbling fuck-hole would send him out of 
his boyish mind. 

She heard him suck in a breath and felt his hands exploring in the exposed 
slickness of her cunt, his thumbs holding the fat and hairy cushions apart, 
his fingers stroking carefully among the twitching labia. 

"Wow!" he exclaimed happily. "This is the greatest! I've just got to suck at 
it a minute or two!" 

He bent over her, twisting his neck, trying to get his mouth over her 
throbbing, leaking hole. And failing, naturally. It just isn't in the cards, 
both on the bed, to make this connection perfectly. 

"Wait, Jeff," the older woman whispered softly. And she wiggled away, got 
off the bed and, facing it with her legs spread wide apart, put her face 
down on her folded hands. 

"Kneel between my legs," she said. "There, doesn't that make it? Right 
height, easy to get at, and all?" 

"Oh, beautiful!" he moaned, and sank his face as deep into the soft folds of 
her vein-etched labia as he could, reveling in the rich flow of her 
pussy-juice, its gamy flavor of raw sex, the play of her vaginal muscles 
against his lips. 

She continued to moan. Her clitoris, the sensitive two or three inches just 
inside her vaginal opening, every nerve in her cuntal area, had all been 
conditioned by the long cum she had shot off, over and over, on his fingers. 
Now, when just a tongue-tip was all that was necessary to bring her, this 
wonderful, talented boy was eating her better than any man ever had in all 
her life. 

She was, she had to admit, just as happy when he got his fill of her cunt 
and its seepage. Now she would get some hot, hard meat stretching her aching 
pussy. To cum in any way was delightful, and to respond to wisely, tenderly 
sucking lips and tongue was among the best. But after all that, a cock and 
its stretch and pressure is the best. 

She almost danced on her strained, tired legs as he stood up between her 
spread thighs. She felt his cock graze her ass-hole, felt it press that 
tender hold in a burst of loving pain. She was ready for it there, glad to 
have it there, but Jeff lost his guts somewhere along the way. Later, she 
thought. Later on, Jeff baby, you can shove your big prick into Mama SherVs 
tight old ass-hole. 

Just the thought of that gut-wrenching pleasure yet to come made her jerk 
with the first spasm of cumming, and when he rammed his young cock into her 
soupy snatch, banging with sickeningly lovely force against her womb, she 
screamed weakly and let the waiting orgasm pour out as he fucked and slogged 
into her. 

"Oh, Geez!" he was moaning. "It's so beautiful! Look! Look! I can see us in 
the mirror! I can see it go in and out. OHHHHH! OH, OH! I'M CUMMMMIINNNGGG!" 

In the midst of her own rippling waves of orgasm, which were shaking her 
legs and liquefying her knees, she felt the wet flow of his jism pour into 
her, stretching her still more. I'm glad my cunt's this tight, she thought 
proudly. Glad Pm squeezing his sweet little old dickie, milking out all his 
pretty white jism! 

He had fallen forward onto her sweat-slicked back, his hands fumbling for 
her bloated titties, grasping them hard, his hands slipping off them, but 
his cock still rammed into her, its every nerve so lightly held and so 
lightly caressed by the cum-slopped folds of membrane and muscle inside her. 

"You must be cumming a bucketful, Jeffie," she crooned, reaching to hold his 
hands on her breasts, letting her weight go onto her elbows. "I can feel it 
pumping out of my cunt, running down my leg. Oh, my dear! You're marvelous!" 

His trembling legs at last brought him down to his knees and, when Sheri 
moved her widespread thighs, he fell forward with his face buried in the 
slippery and reddened puddle of her open cunt, high-lighted by the 
pearly-white jism he had shot into her. In her haze of good feeling, she was 
aware of the gentle lapping of his tongue, her heart lifting as she heard 
his boyish giggle of pleasure as he played so delicately in the slimy folds 
of her twat. 

When he was at last able to crawl on the bed, and she got up beside him, 
they held each other in a loose embrace. Sheri felt happiness and sensual 
joy in every inch of her solid body, especially when his muscular young arms 
or hands brushed her breasts or lingered on her belly. 

"I've got a lot to learn, haven't I, Mrs. 

Meredith?" he asked, out of a pleasant silence. 

She was handling his stalwart young pole, sticky with the combined essences 
of their two sets of sex organs, and she squeezed the head of it as gently 
as a girl feeling her own titties. 

"I'm not sure a boy like you has to think of it as learning," she said 
slowly, smiling into space. "You seem to know what to do, and when to do it. 
Maybe it would be better to call it experience. Maybe you need to experience 
more things. Of course," and she patted his cock, "experience and learning 
are the same thing." 

"But I want to know how girls think. And how they feel. Why would a girl 
give her pussy to one guy, and not to another? Why do some girls act like 
it's a million-dollar deal, and other girls go into a vacant house with ten 
guys and fuck them all?" 

His face was serious, his voice strained, and Sheri hugged him and kissed 
the side of his face. 

"That's what you learn from experience," she whispered. "There's no book, no 
teacher, to answer those questions. How many girls do you know, know 
personally, I mean, that you think you might be able to get to open up their 
little twats for you?" 

He moved against her, and she realized that all this impersonal fuck talk 
was sending messages through his aphrodisiac mind, down into his fuck 
machinery. A cock-throb confirmed it. 

"Well, two," he answered. "Not counting you." 

She hugged him, laughing. "I'm hardly a girl," she teased. 

He pressed his hand hard against her wet-haired cunt, a finger slipping into 
it, and briefly sucked at one of her nipples, still hard from her blasting 
cum. 

"You sure as hell ain't no boy," he said with ungrammatical forcefulness. 

"Okay. Two girls. I'm not prying. But one has to be my Rocky, right? And the 
other, you're not ready to tell me about. Which is okay. You'll tell me when 
and if you want to. Or I'll guess. You know, don't you, Jeffie, that I'm 
perfectly willing for you to put it into Rocky? No jealousy, no mother's 
scream of rape, no moral lectures. Do you think I'm awful?" 

He felt slightly dizzy with pride that a woman so great should even bend to 
his trifling opinion. He began a kiss in her pubic hair and made a long 
swath of spit across her belly, up under one big breast, into the heavy 
bodily fragrance of her armpit. He licked her sweat off his lips. It was 
hard to speak because there was a lump in his throat. 

"I just wish to God I had you for a mother," he said in a strangely cracked 
voice. 

She was so delighted that she felt a twist of cum-flare in her well-fucked 
vagina, a shuddering tremble in the thick lips which covered her inner 
cuntal areas. Just the thought of having a son who wanted to fuck her, who 
had fucked her, gave her a licentious thrill that made her skin tingle. 

She stroked idly down his flank, getting her fingers into the hair around 
his prick, beginning to dry, but still matted from the fluids they had both 
fucked out of their bodies. 

"You know what that would make you, don't you, Jeffie?" she teased him. "But 
I'd love it. I really would. If you really were." They both laughed. "Just 
think. A mother fucker." 

"I don't see where it's such a big deal for a guy to stick his dick into a 
relative," Jeff said musingly. "Everybody acts like it was the sin of the 
world. Don't people ever do that?" 

Sheri's mind trembled with a tender insight. She believed she knew who she 
was "tighter than," and who was the second of the two chickies Jeff believed 
he could fuck. 

"Of course they do," Sheri said positively. "Even in our conscience-crazy 
society. Because a lot of people care more about sex, honest and open sex, 
than about some rules that are hard to understand. Fathers screw their 
daughters. Mothers who feel like it take on their sons. And I'm sure that 
there's many a loving sister, many a manly and straightforward brother, who 
has helped someone they loved. By fucking them, I mean." She giggled like a 
schoolgirl. "You know how hard it is for a guy to get his shit together and 
get organized? To go after pussy, I mean? Well, it can be a whole lot 
tougher for a girl. Man, you don't know the terrible stuff that most 
mothers-and fathers, too-feed to their scary, ignorant, innocent 
girl-children." 

Jeff sat up. "Geez, I never thought of it that way. Girls always seem to, 
you know, kind of act like they don't want it. That's what I meant a while 
ago. You say it takes experience." 

She rubbed his thigh. "It was the right answer to your question," she 
replied. "But here's the right answer to what you just said. Every girl 
wants it. Especially girls around Rocky's age. Or Sandy's age." She looked 
through partly closed eyes to watch his expression and saw his lips purse. 
"It may be kind of young for them to get it. But they want it. Believe me, 
that's the truth. When they yell 'No!' ninety-nine times out of a hundred, 
they mean 'Oh, please, please, ask me again!' " 

"You don't think they're too young?" he asked. "You don't think it's wrong 
for them to fuck?" 

"No, silly," she said and laughed. "Girls who want it are going to get it. 
Girls who are too scared-well, either they run into a guy who won't listen 
when they say no, or they just wind up very unlucky. And unfucked." 

She turned her head and her gaze fell on the electric clock on her bureau. 
"Hey, what do you know," she said. "You've been here over three hours. If we 
.don't want Rocky to catch us," and she patted his muscular young butt, 
"you'll have to beat it." 

He shook his cock at her, laughing. "I could have done it again," he said. 
"I wish we hadn't talked so much." 

"I don't," Sheri said. "I think you've got enough so you won't be jerking 
off behind the garage." 

He was buttoning the top of his slacks. "Or in the bathroom," he said and 
laughed. "Are you okay?" 

She patted his crotch as he stood over her, just a baby, in a way, but a 
real human being. More of a man than a lot of men she knew. "I'm fine, 
Jeffie," she murmured. "Take care." 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Sheri Meredith really hadn't intended to drowse off. But it was a warm 
afternoon, and her body was relaxed and content. She had taken Rocky's 
message, delivered through Jeff, at face value. She had no idea of what was 
going on in her child's mind. But anything that removed the dreadful stain, 
the burning sadness of those terrible words of last night, well, that was 
simply marvelous. Until now, she hadn't really thought of it. Too involved, 
both in mind and body, with young Jeff Stone and his loving ways, his gifted 
cock. 

The old apartment was warm with the California September outside, and she 
would get up soon. Fix little Raquel something nice for dinner. But, ohhhh, 
this was nice, lying here with her cunt warm and alive and filled with jism. 
And with a raunchily beautiful taste on her lips. Wow! When you really felt 
like sex, and had a partner who felt the same way, you used everything. Why, 
she could taste not only the ripeness of her own pussy, and the richness of 
Jeff's sperm, but also the sweat which the kid had licked from under her 
tit, from the soaked hair in her armpit. Pee-yew! That was kind of far out. 
But, God, so wonderful! 

She was awakened by a gentle tap at her door, and came out of her pleasant 
dream of lust in a heart-pounding panic. 

Rocky! Good God! And here she was, lying with her big old thighs spread open 
and her nasty old cunt hanging open, too. 

But her panic died as she heard her little girl's voice calling: "Mom! Are 
you awake yet? Is it okay to come in?" 

And then it all flooded back through her, all the good and wonderful feeling 
she had gotten from Jeff's message, so that she choked on sudden tears. She 
held out her arms, not giving a good goddamn if she was naked, and the slim 
little blonde ran in, her young face soft and loving, to throw her light, 
soft body on her mother. 

"My baby!" Sheri repeated over and over, smoothing Rocky's blonde hair, 
feeling the wild heartbeat subside as the child burrowed her face into her 
mother's neck. "My baby! Oh, I love you so much!" 

Rocky was crying silently, her slender arms warmly around Sheri's neck, and 
she asked in a whisper: "Mom, can you ever forgive me? Oh, I was so bad! Oh, 
to say those horrible things! You should have killed me!" 

This was strange ground for Sheri. What does a mother say? Talking about 
open, flagrant sex with a daughter's putative boy friend? She hugged the 
slight, feminine body and said: "In a way, most of it was true." 

"No! No! It wasn't! Mom, I know-at least I think I do-how tough it is for a 
woman when her husband's away." Rocky moved her face from side to side on 
her mother's neck, kissing her, sobbing quietly. "I'm just a dumb little 
chick, but I know." She raised her head to look directly at her mother, and 
her tearful smile was beautiful. "I don't care what you do!" 

The woman kissed her daughter again. God, it was weird! Just as it had been 
last night, there was a sharp savor of sensuality in their kissing. Too warm 
for a mother and a daughter. But the love was there. And the strange 
undercurrnet of unexpressed lust somehow made them seem closer. 

"All you do, Mom, is beautiful," the little blonde whispered. She kissed 
Sheri again, and the sexuality of the kiss was again evident. "Why was I 
such a bitch? Ooooh!" and she gave her mother another moving kiss, and this 
time, Sheri could not avoid the certainty that little Rocky's pink tongue 
was out and brushing across her own soft lips. "That tastes so good! 
Man-juice, and pussy-juice. And sweat! Now, I'm the one that's awful! How 
could I have been mean to you last night?" 

Sheri felt a hidden load become light, so that her heart was ready to lift 
her in the air. It was really true! She had a daughter she could love like a 
person rather than a pet to curb, to bully, to inflict her own faulty ideas 
on. 

"The important thing to me," the mother said softly, "is how you could 
change so much! That's all that matters." 

The child was in the crook of her arm, her small body pressing on Sheri's 
breast, still warmly responsive, still swollen from her afternoon of 
wildness. "It was like a flash of light, Mom," she said. "I was saying to 
Sandy that I couldn't tell dad on you, like I said," and she blushed. 
"Because, you know, I'd have him asking me how come I knew the taste of, uh, 
semen." 

"Jism," Sheri said absently, patting the softly divided little rump under 
her hand. 

"Yeah, jism. I'm so stupid! I knew you'd been a girl not too long ago, but I 
never thought you were ever a girl like I am." 

She giggled, but a couple of big tears rolled from her blue eyes. "Anyhow, 
Sandy said: 'You told your mother.' Just like that. And the minute she said 
it, I realized that I'd always trusted you, because I never had a reason not 
to. And that you never had laid anything heavy on me, like guilt and all 
that, uh, shit." She nestled her face down on her mother's warm, full, naked 
breast. 

Sheri hugged her daughter. It was hard to know what to say. 

"I never wanted you to be anything but a human being," she said in a low 
voice. "I never thought I was God. Do other mothers play it different?" 

"I'm the only kid I know, the only one, boy or girl, that can say anything 
she wants to, anything she feels like saying, to her mother's face," the 
child declared warmly. "Sandy, for God's sake, Sandy can't even talk to her 
mother. Oh, hey!" and Rocky got up on her elbow. "To change the subject, you 
know. Really to change it. Not talking about Sandy, but about a friend of 
hers, you know. Okay?" 

Again, Sheri's insight brought a vision of Sandy's ripe young body, and a 
brother who was bursting with anxiety and lust and the terrible lack of 
someone to talk to. "I understand," she said gravely. "Sandy has a friend 
with a problem, and the two of you need a little advice, right?" 

Rocky looked at her mother carefully. This seemed a little too easy. "Well, 
yes," she admitted. "Gee, she's a screwed-up little kid!" The blonde child 
shook her head, amazed that anyone should be so screwed up. "She wants to 
know if-well, this is kind of heavy, I guess. But she thinks that, maybe, if 
it's her brother that shoots off inside her, maybe it wouldn't, uh, get her 
pregnant." 

"Wow!" Sheri breathed. "That is heavy. And she really does need advice. 
Because, baby, your brother, or your father, or your uncle, or any guy who 
can shoot that stuff into you, can knock you up. So-she'd better watch it!" 

The slender but rapidly maturing little girl closed her eyes and shuddered. 
"I just thought of dad," she confessed. "When you said that-you know." 

"You thought of your dad sticking it into your little baby twat?" Sheri 
asked. For a split second, she felt a murderous rage against her absent 
husband, but shook it off as quickly. How crazy could she get? After all, he 
was her own husband, and she knew him better than anyone else in the world. 
How could he be around this eighty-five pounds of warmth and softness and 
throbbing parts and not want to fuck her? "Well, baby," and she laughed 
unsteadily, "it's not impossible, you know. Things like that happen." 

"But he's so big," the blonde sprite protested, and then laughed out loud. 
"Gave myself away, didn't I?" she chortled. "So, okay, I've peeped on him 
when it was hard. And it's huge!" 

The mother smiled and caressed the little girl between the legs, on her 
sweetly split delta of springy flesh and sparse hair. "These things stretch, 
baby," she said dryly. "But go on. What else is bothering Sandy's friend?" 

Rocky was excited. "Well, she knows a lady in a doctor's office. Not a 
friend of her mother's. And this lady gave her a box of those things. Those 
pills you take. To keep from having babies. And she wants to know, if she 
takes them, will her mother be able to just look at her and tell? I guess 
that's kind of silly, isn't it? But her mother used to be able to tell, by 
looking at her, that she'd been, well, fooling with herself." 

"That's nonsense!" Sheri said firmly. Damn that self-righteous bitch. She 
had her hand between her daughter's warm, smooth young thighs, and she 
thought of Jeff-maybe even of Brooksy, or even some stranger-straining to 
get his cock into that tender little crevice. To shoot his load of sperm and 
semen into that eagerly throbbing, warmly responsive little cunt. For once 
in her life, she immodestly thought of herself as, maybe, being a good 
mother. It made her feel at once humble but very happy. 

"It's a damn lie," she said. "All the way! The goddamn snooping bitch! She 
was bluffing. She couldn't tell, but she could fool a child. A trusting 
child. I hope to God that Jeff is fucking her right now! Damn that Nancy 
Stone, anyhow!" And then she put her hand over her mouth. She had given 
herself away. 

She looked at her daughter, who was giving her an odd look. 

"You knew all the time, didn't you?" the girl asked. "Oh, Mom! You're so 
great! Are you sure?" 

Sheri sat up, her big breasts jiggling and warm. "Call the kid up right 
now," she ordered. "Tell her to go into her bathroom and take one of those 
pills right this minute." She laughed and patted her daughter's belly. "You 
can take mine, starting tonight. And I'll call Colonel Sterrett over at the 
dispensary and put you on them tomorrow." 

She sat on the bed as Rocky dialed her friend. "Are we okay?" Rocky asked. 
"I mean, is the security tight? All right, then. This is true stuff. Your 
brother or your uncle or your dad could knock you up. Any guy that has 
balls. Wait a minute." She held her hand over the phone. "She wants to know, 
could a dog knock her up. I think it's just, uh, curiosity!" 

A quake of heat burned in the older woman's cunt as she thought of that 
innocent child being fucked by some over-sized dog dick, of the slick, 
bright red spear fucking into the opened, softly quivering lips of a girl's 
young pussy. Beautiful! 

"Tell her I don't know," Sheri said, and then made an odd face. "Tell 
her-tell her a dog can't. But be sure to say I don't know, I only heard. 
Long ago. like at her age." 

She felt of her breasts. They were tender and sensitive and she wished 
Brooksy were home. She heard little Rocky reassuring Sandra, and remembered 
what Jeff had said. "I could do it again," as he stood by her bed. He could, 
too. The idea of the two kids, hopefully free of both guilt and fear, naked 
on the boy's bed, fucking with the ferocious sensuality of minks, brought 
new warmth to her pussy. 

Little Raquel had an oddly pained, oddly urgent look on her beautiful young 
face when she returned from the phone. She was holding the hem of her 
mini-dress. 

"Mom," she said very low, "I've had my own room for, well, all my life. But 
I sure used to like it, when I was a little kid and dad was away on a long 
tour of duty, and you took me in bed." 

Sheri looked at the child for a long moment. Then she said: "Get undressed." 
Her tongue was thick, her voice husky. "You think maybe I ought to shower?" 

The child giggled. "No way!" she said. "No way!" 

There could have been a lot of awkwardness over this simple, human, harmless 
little business. Too much talk could have spoiled it, Sheri knew that. And 
was grateful that neither of them felt any need to talk it to death. 

Any more than there was any need for Rocky to put on a nightie. Honesty is 
catching. 

"I can't get enough of this feel!" the little girl cried, burrowing her 
warm, naked body into her mother's. "I wish I could just crawl into you!" 
and she nestled between Sheri's strong, smooth thighs, pressing her breast 
against the older woman's flowing twat. 

She got her strong young arms under her mother's knees and lifted, and 
Sheri, divining what the girl wanted, the irrevocable commitment that would 
stand forever, helped her. The mother's knees raised, her thighs came back 
against her chest, and when her cunt was open and aiming its slick, lovely, 
blubbery spread of pink convolutions at the ceiling, Rocky's face went down 
into it, and the slim, childish little woman began to suck. 

And she was so sure, so accurate, so em pathetic! Delicate in her tongue's 
pressures, right up to the fieriest spot of all, licking right into the 
hardness of her mother's clitoris, grinning as the strong body jumped for 
nervous joy and ground back at her face, trying to push the entire pussy 
into the little girl's mouth. "OHHHHHHH!" the woman moaned softly. "OH, 
BABY! THAT'S SO DIVINE! OHHHHHH! SUCK HARD, BABY! MAMA'S CUMMMMIIINNNGGG!" 

She deliberately raised her ass higher in the air, loving the feel of the 
slight, soft body against the wide crack of her ass. And little Rocky, her 
arms around her mother's thighs, rendered thicker by her position, kept her 
busy, loving mouth on the spasming cunt, sucking up the strongly flavored 
cum-juice, digging her avid tongue deep into the clutching vaginal portal. 

With her broad, cleanly sculptured ass so far back, Sheri's breasts tumbled 
out, lolling almost in her armpits, and she squeezed them to a fever of 
tingling delight as she kept cumming and cumming. 

And when little Raquel, her heart full of love, realized that her mother had 
reached an end of this particular piece of rope, she pulled her mother's 
legs down and once more flung herself on Sheri's body, offering her 
cum-smeared face for her mother's all-inclusive kisses. 

"Now," Sheri murmured, and her voice had a tender growl in it, "you just 
turn your cute little old butt right around here and let mommy suck you 
right up the wall!" 

There was an ultimate, utterly final sense of rightness and beauty in the 
dark woman's mind and heart as she softly kissed between the softly 
squirming, almost nude cunt lips of the little girl. A virgin cunt, in a 
way. Never a prick in it, at least not yet. And so sweet, so hotly flowing! 
. "Ummmmmmm!" the mother moaned as she took the fat little twat completely 
into her mouth, holding the outer lips by suction as she reamed her tongue 
between them, into the juicy little folds, letting the delicious young 
cunt's syrup trail into her mouth, letting its gaminess tickle her nostrils. 

She made her tongue hard and probed with it, rapidly running it up and down 
between the lips held together by her lips. She could feel the child 
cumming, the light, slender body undulating on her belly and breast in a 
warm caress that involved them both entirely. She had kissed this little 
cunt when Raquel was weeks old, in the sheer joy of being a mother, of 
having a woman-child emerge from her own uterus, her own flesh and blood in 
the exact, literal meaning of the word. 

And now the tender child was nubile and fertile, with a cunt generously 
overflowing with its sweet nectar of female cum, its maturing nerves 
shooting orgasmic joy all through the little body that hammered on hers. 
Sheri sucked more gently, letting the hard and painful beauties of cunt-fire 
die away in an easy, normal glow. Her mouth was full of her daughter's cum, 
and her belly was still, she imagined, full of the rich seed from Jeff's 
young cock. It was so beautiful, so natural! 

Her arms were strong and Rocky's body was light. She had the little girl 
turned back to her in a moment, hugging her, kissing the child's own cum 
onto her rapturous face. 

"Oh, Mom!" Rocky whispered, "I never thought anything so nice, so sweet, 
could ever happen to me!" 

"Don't get to liking it too much," Sheri joked, but there was an undertone 
of real cautionary concern in her voice. "Remember, boys are better!" And 
she fingered her baby daughter's tender little cunt with a boldness like a 
man's. 

The little blonde squealed and pumped her pretty pink ass strongly on her 
mother's hand. "How could I forget it?" she cried. "But when am I going to 
ever get a little?" 

"You sweet thing," Sheri crooned. "Don't you worry! You'll get it. Maybe 
tomorrow. That is, if Jeff doesn't fuck himself to death tonight." She 
worked her finger in and out of Rocky's responsive little pussy hole, 
turning it to touch what she knew were the most sensitive fuck-spots. 
"You're really growing up, baby," she whispered hoarsely. "You really cum a 
lot!" 

The child pumped savagely, and Sheri, with great pride, felt the young cunt 
muscles glide and twist, clipping her finger. What a wonderful gift for a 
girl to have, she thought. She would make any guy happy. A lot of guys, 
Sheri hoped. 

"Mom?" Rocky said in a shaky voice. "Mom? Can I do something to you? 
Something crazy?" When Sheri smiled assent, the little girl knelt by her 
mother's strong thigh, almost exactly as Jeff had, earlier, and Sheri opened 
her thighs as before. 

She got a shock. Something bigger than a couple of fingers was trying to get 
into her. And it felt marvelous. She was beginning to cum already, just a 
quiet series of small orgasms, and she let her body relax as she pumped her 
strong body easily up and down. Her eyes were closed and she was moaning, 
feeling the pressure grow, wondering what on earth Rocky was up to. At last 
she could stand it no longer. Her body was aroused from head to foot, she 
was twisting and turning, and she felt the biggest cum of her life gathering 
in her guts, far up her. She had to look. And she gasped and turned to hot 
jelly. 

The tiny child had very small hands, shapely but very small arms. Hardly 
bigger than a healthy one-year-old child's. And she was working her entire 
hand into the tight aperture of her mother's cunt! It was fantastic, a 
feeling like the first big male cock that had ever stretched Sheri's body. 
And her cunt was fiercely responding, fiercely trying to suck or drag that 
hand inside! 

"Work in and out, baby," Sheri groaned. "Get more cum-goo on it! It'll go! 
Keep shoving!" 

The girl, her intensity penetrated, faltered. "Oh, Mom," she gasped, "I 
don't want to hurt you! But I've thought about it and thought about it and 
wondered if I could do it. Mom," she said, perspiration dripping off her 
face, "I never realized you could be so tight!" 

In the silence where you could almost hear the thudding of two hearts in 
sexual excitation, Sheri laughed. "Jeff says I'm tighter than someone 
unknown. Or unnamed. I guessed it had to be Sandy." 

Rocky bent down and kissed at the top of her mother's reddened split, 
letting slick saliva drool out onto her hand. "You are," the little girl 
said, giggling. "You are, believe it." 

She twisted her hand, with all its fingers cupped over her thumb, drawing it 
out and plunging it in, until both women gave a shout of triumph. And Sheri, 
in her heat as her daughter's hand plunged deep into her vagina, gripped the 
slender girl's body, making the arm go in and out, pulling part of the dark 
red inner lining out as it partly withdrew. 

"Oh, God, I don't know if I can stand it, baby!" Sheri cried. "It's so big! 
And so good! Ooooooh! Oooooooh! That will make me feel a little better! Did 
I hurt your arm?" 

"No, of course not," the girl declared proudly. "Mom," and she was very 
excited, "I knew I could do this! I've seen photos of cocks as big as my 
arm! Oh! My God, I can feel all around inside you! This must be your 
cervix!" and she gripped the hard, slick ball of muscle and worked it up and 
down to the limits of its anchoring muscles and membranes. "Oh, God! I feel 
like I'm about to pop my nuts! OHHHHHH! HOLD ME, MOM! HOLD ME, DEAR! OH, 
YOUR HAND, MOM! Fuck me, Mom!" and she rolled in lust as Sheri, herself 
bursting with a wave of cum-craziness, jammed two fingers up her child's 
streaming twat. 

They lay still for a long time. With her hand soaking in the hot juices of 
her mother's vagina, her elbow bent, her head on Sheri's left thigh, the 
little girl lay with her legs open, her pussy swollen to grown woman's size, 
its throbs of aftershock clearly visible in the slickness of her pink little 
fuck hole. Sheri, her face in a pleased and dreamy mask of lust, knew a 
different sort of fulfillment and joy, a new sort of heaven. 

"My God!" she breathed. "I never knew anything could shake me up like that! 
What a cummy idea! Oh, baby, how I love it! And how I love you! Hey, you 
came pretty good, yourself." 

"I like to've died with it," the young blonde said hoarsely. "Just the idea 
of having my whole hand and arm in your pussy! Feeling around in there, 
where I came from! So hot! I could have shot my cream if you hadn't even 
touched me! And, Geez, how your pussy can grip! I wish I could do that!" She 
began withdrawing her arm, finding that her hand, only slightly larger than 
her wrist, hung up at the opening. 

Sheri gritted her teeth. "What a sensation," she gasped. "Better than a 
cock! I mean it! But you'll outgrow it. I hate to think of it, but you'll 
get too big." 

"Ho-ho!" Rocky said. "Not if we do it often enough!" 

They rocked in helpless laughter and uncompromising love, after Rocky pulled 
her hand out and both of them licked it well. 

"Next time I'm baby-sitting, I'm going to try that with somebody's baby," 
Rocky vowed. "But first, I want to feel a hard, hot cock churning my guts!" 

Sheri kissed her daughter. "I told you, we'll get Jeff over tomorrow. That 
isr if he doesn't get carried away, once he's started surprising that hot 
little kid sister of his!" 

 CHAPTER TWELVE 

In the quiet, old-fashioned home in the area Nancy Stone had always proudly 
thought of as "our kind of neighborhood," her son Jeff was, in fact, getting 
carried away. And he was surprising someone, although it wasn't his kid 
sister. He was in his mother's bedroom, walking happily about, naked as the 
day he was born, and contemplating with great joy and anticipation a 
voluptuously formed woman on the bed. It was his mother. 

From time to time, she would wildly, helplessly strain at the bonds which 
held her spread-eagled on her own bed. She could not hurt herself. They were 
only her own pantyhose, one pair passed through the baroque design of her 
old-fashioned iron bed's head, the other through the curlicues of the foot. 
And both were knotted around her wrists and ankles. 

A thin film of sweat made her generously formed body, with its blonde hair, 
pink-nippled breasts, and womanly curves even more appealing to the 
snickering youth. His cock, looking unusually large between his hard, thin 
thighs, was not quite hard but showing signs of getting there. 

"You might as well quit yelling, Mom," he said calmly. "I told you the 
neighbors aren't home. And if they were, I'd shut you up." He laughed 
softly. "You shut me up often enough! You sent me to bed without my dinner 
often enough. At least, you're going to have something warm in your 
stomach!" He giggled, got on the bed, and kneed his way right to his 
mother's shocked and horrified face, which she turned away. 

"Jeffrey Stone!" she cried. "You monster! I'll make you so sorry for this! 
I'll make you-" and her voice choked as he pulled her face to him and 
pressed the head of his cock very hard against her closed mouth. 

Her body was beautiful. Jeff had seen flashes of it all his life. He had 
avidly sought such flashes since his pubescence. Until he had known Mrs. 
Meredith, his soul had been heavy with the guilt from holding her cunt in 
his mind as he had jerked off. Now it was all his. At least for a while. If 
things worked out as he and Sandy had planned. 

"Your father'll skin you alive!" the straining woman said. "Oh, how could I 
have been so stupid as to get into this?" 

His hand was stroking softly between his mother's thighs, in that lovely, 
moist, sensitive area just below the puffy cunt lips. She was no beach 
lover, and he was intrigued by the whiteness of her skin, the deep blue of 
the veins which marbled the soft, warm skin. In a frenzy of lust, he drove 
his finger into the coral-pink crevice between the thick cushions of flesh 
which were so sweetly decorated with the fine, curly blonde hair. His mother 
jerked and shrieked, but her haunches, unbelievable, responded, pressing her 
cunt into the fork of his hand. 

He licked his lips and probed with his finger. It was hard to believe, but 
his mom's cunt was juicing just like Mrs. Meredith's, just like his sister 
Sandra's. His cock suddenly throbbed with a fierceness he would not have 
believed. I don't really hate her, he thought. I don't know. It's kinda like 
love. 

He felt a need to speak. "Dad won't do a damn thing," he said shortly, a 
speech he had rehearsed. "In the first place, you won't dare tell him. I've 
heard him say to you: 'Nan, we just can't communicate any more!' and so has 
Sandy. And we know it's about sex." 

He had not removed his fingers-there were two of them hooked into his 
mother's warm, slick, throbbing vagina now-and unconsciously, he was 
hunching his body in a rhythm with his mother's plunging body, not even 
noticing that her eyes were shut, her mouth hanging slackly open, while 
trails of saliva drooled from her mouth. He had something else to say, but 
the rolling movement of her really beautiful titties held his attention. 
Weren't they bigger, more swollen than they had been? Weren't the nipples 
going crazy with new size and deeper color, almost blood-red, and creased? 
He worked his fingers all around in the marvelously slick, hot cunt, and 
leaned down in a flame of crazy passion, sucking one of those nipples as if 
he would take it clear into his throat. 

"OHHHHHH! OHHHHHH! OH, JEFFIE! OH, MY GOD, JEFFIE!" 

The voice seemed to burn in his mind. It had a different timbre, a vibrant 
need he had never heard. And his quiet, overly possessive, bossy, egocentric 
mother had muscles in her pussy just like Mrs. Meredith's. She was squeezing 
his fingers. She was pumping her beautiful bottom up and down with 
rapid-fire wildness, fucking his fingers just as his fingers were fucking 
into her. 

He released her breast from his mouth and watched her cum with a sort of 
awe. So Sandy had been right. "Mom wouldn't be all that hung up on sex," the 
wise child had said, "if it wasn't heating her up in some way that she can 
hide." So now here she was, proving that Sandy was right, and totally unable 
to hide it, to hide the undulations of her strong, lovely body, the swell of 
the tendons in her thighs as she thrashed her ass upward, the flow of cum 
juice that pumped steadily out of the plumped-up lips of .her pussy, sucking 
on her son's fingers. 

"And another thing," he said, or tried to say, for his voice was choked with 
excitement, "even if you told dad, he couldn't do anything because-right 
about now, Sandy's got his cock out and she's sucking it!" 

In his ambivalence, nurtured for so many years and now breaking like a tidal 
wave, his voice rose to a shout. "She's sucking him off!" he cried. "You 
never give him any! We know! And we're going to straighten this family out!" 

He thought of his and Sandy's plan, so quickly formed, so mutually 
acceptable, even thrilling their hanging together for a long kiss, and theii 
promise to each other. The future was foi themselves, but tonight was to 
straighten out a fucked-up family, to pay off old scores. "He drops his 
knife under the table so he can look up my dress. When he hugs me, he 
accidentally-on-pur-pose lets his hand go clear around to feel my boob." 
Sandy had been positive. "So he's been wanting to see the show at the Loma, 
and mom doesn't. Don't worry, baby, I'll just get my head in his lap and 
that'll be that!" 

She had fairly danced with excitement. "And I just know you'll be fine with 
mom! Tell her you want to show her a Japanese magic trick. Remember how I 
showed you to wrap those damn pantyhose around the bed." And they had kissed 
again, rapturously sucking tongues, and she was squeezing his dick while her 
dad hollered gruffly: "Come on, let's go!" 

And her mother, relaxing in her soft robe, smiling at her mental picture of 
herself as a happy companion for her children, was saying: "What do we do 
now, Jeffie, now that I'm tied up in this ridiculous way?" 

He was breathless and cock-aching from this hard thrill, to make his mother 
cum like that, when she probably hadn't shot her wad in years. And oh, God! 
Those titties! As good as Mrs. Meredith's. White and pink, even when the 
nipples were hard and bright with engorged blood. And the smell from her 
cunt wes so gorgeous! Not quite as rank as that of the dark woman who was 
his newest customer for the Tribune. Sweeter, maybe. 

He could stand it no longer. He protected his throbbing, bursting cock from 
touching the sheet or his mother's flank, since he would have poured out his 
seed at a touch, and dropped his mouth to the pink furrow in the bright 
blonde hair. To the pearly-pink clitoris that trembled from its recent cum. 
And to suck up all he could of that incredibly delicious juice that seemed 
to flow out around his fingers like a warm, clear stream. 

"AAARRRGGGHHH! OH, MY BABY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? OH, MY BABY BOY! OH, JEFFIE! 
I-CANT-HELP-IT!" And once again his mother's warm, smooth, powerful body 
threw itself at him, at his sucking mouth, and her thick, slobbering, 
beautiful cunt lips seemed to open around his lips, sucking him rather than 
him sucking her. It was so good, so crazy-right and sweet, that he pulled 
his fingers out of her and began to suck at her hole, still keeping his cock 
, away from the contact that would pull the trigger deep in his sex system, 
and shoot jism all over him, his mother, and the bed. And her robe, too, 
which lay under her, since he had no way to remove it once she was tied 
down. Oh, God, that cunt! That . flavor! That marvelous delicacy of scent! 

Nancy Stone was coming out of a crazy dream that she had fought off for 
nearly twenty years. She had been so frightened of sex. Her mother had been 
so grave, had seemed so fair, in all her bitterness that she had fed Nancy 
on. And then, in her first experiences with her husband, to find to her 
horror that she loved it! So she had held him at bay, except for the odd 
times when his insistence and her own nature had, in essence, raped her. 

Because she had loved it. She had even wanted to suck his nasty penis! To 
have him suck her nasty vagina! It had just been so horrible to find that 
she was one of those women her mother had warned her of. And she had made a 
safe life, full of good works and meticulous housekeeping and bullshit. 

Her mouth was so full of spit that she would have choked except that she 
swallowed it, her throat hungering for something she knew she wanted, and no 
longer feared. Her little boy's peter-my goodness, but wasn't it manly?-had 
just smelled so intoxicatingly wonderful when he had rubbed it on her lips. 

"OHHHHHH!" the wordless scream came out again, joyful and triumphant, the 
paean of a female reaching the highest, hottest peaks of orgasm. Her baby! 
Sucking her vagina! Somewhere inside her, a rebellious part of her spirit 
said: Sucking your cunt! And she cried, with a joy that was as fierce as 
pain: "Oh, suck my cunt, darling baby! Suck mama's cunt!" 

The boy, not loaded down by his decisions, but rather charged up by his deep 
entry into the kinkiest sex in the world, was whining and hunching like a 
dog. He was aware of hands tugging at him and never comprehended that his 
mother's bonds had been released from their moorings. His taste buds were 
flooded with the deeply sweet slime of this blonde pussy, its lips so fat 
and its hole so richly flowing. And the woman, no longer his mother but a 
female raised to white heat, lifted his narrow loins above her face, opened 
her mouth, and let the boy's straining, throbbing cock slip in against her 
enwrapping tongue, her gratefully constricting throat. 

This is what I was born for, she thought. Goddamn my poor, cowardly, 
sick-minded mother! To feel her entire sexual system pour one trembling, 
gut-shaking orgasm of heat and love out of her cunt after another, to feel 
her cunt swell, her ovaries burn deep in her bowels, to feel even her 
cervix, prodded so brutally and gorgeously by this crazy boy's cunt-digging 
fingers, this was what every woman was born for! 

The position took all the strain from Jeff's back and shoulders, but it made 
him start to cum, helplessly. At first, he fought it, and then a grateful 
nature took over and let the juice boil out of his young nuts with the same 
gladness he had felt when Mrs. Meredith sucked him off, when he had shot his 
slick seed into the girlish mouths of his innocent young sister and the tiny 
blonde child whose mother had so expertly taught him the joys of being 
sucked off. 

He was sucking the cunt in which his face was buried. He was instinctively 
doing a marvelous job of it. His mother, as innocent as he, was 
instinctively moving her hips, her powerful body, her ass, her pussy, just 
that fraction of an inch which moved the spot of sweetest ache or fiercest 
response exactly in the path of slavering tongue or sucking lips. It takes 
two to do a great job of licking a cunt, and Nancy Stone was doing her 
share. 

An entire lifetime of anti-sexual terror, of deadly fear, of the sickest 
Puritanism had been washed out in a matter of seconds. Perhaps the very fact 
that her rape had been tinctured by the most deadly taboo of all, that her 
violator had been her darling son, the fruit of her womb, made the flood of 
lust too great for her to fight. She swallowed convulsively, lovingly, at 
the stream of hot, rich semen which filled her mouth and swilled into her 
grateful throat. 

And in this aura of transcendent change, some magic struck into the 
half-formed mind of the boy, as well. What had been a mixture of hate and 
love, a bitter desire to sever all ties with his mother, and to blast 
forever her domineering guidance, was warmed by a shift in proportions of 
the mixture. More love than hate, a feel of kinship growing, it seemed, 
right through their warmly contacting skins. And it was the purest of all 
passions, the love that is stirred by cunt and cock and fucking. 

Of all the times in Jeff's young life that the pleasure-triggered nerves of 
his manly cock had released its showers of slick seed from his hairless 
balls, none had ever been so deeply draining, so wildly sweet as this. 

Without his knowing how, the two of them were on their sides, and his thin 
arms were locked around the strong, firm thighs, holding them apart so that 
he could eat the slippery flesh of the warmly responsive cunt. And, while 
his joys were too diffused for him to realize it all, his mother's head was 
thrown back so that her throat and mouth and gullet were all in a straight 
line, and her little boy was fucking into her face exactly as if it had been 
a sweet, hairless pussy. 

As all his world rearranged itself in the reaction from his revengeful 
assault on his mother's chastity, and he felt love surge in where rebellion 
had festered, he tried to escape, crying: "Mother! Please! I had to do it!" 

But she held him, firmly but gently and, when his struggles stopped, she 
said gaily: "You're not going to get off this easy, young man! Your dad and 
your sister-didn't you say they had some fish of their own to fry? Well, you 
just get around here and let me teach you a few things about sex! And then," 
and she giggled exactly like Sandra had when they'd planned this, "I'll suck 
you up and you can stick that big old hard fuck-stick of yours into me and 
fuck and fuck and fuck!" 

The thick, still-warm pearls of his jism were sweet as he kissed her, and 
the feel of her lovely, warm titty-flesh was so beautiful that it all swept 
through him. Once, after they had squirmed halfway off the bed in a fit of 
kissing and touching, her hand warm and sweet in the crack of his ass and on 
his balls, and the slobbery-sweet red cunt-lining pulled out around his 
probing fingers, she nibbled his ear and whispered: "I'm such a dull old 
dummy that you'll have to teach me what to do-and what to say," and there 
had been something deeply touching in her voice. 

He had sucked her tongue into his throat just at that tiny point in time, 
and she had suddenly jack-hammered a bursting orgasm against the fingers he 
was fucking into her, so that he felt the flow of her cum-juice, and the 
sliding, softly loving grasp of her fuck-muscles. He held her until she 
subsided, with a smile on her softly feminine mouth and tears of love on her 
cheeks. He said: "We'll teach each other," and lifted his hard, boyish body 
over hers, letting her guide the red tip of his hard cock softly into her 
tightness, into her clutching, juicy cunt-mouth. Slowly in, and slowly 
fucking. And very, very wonderful. 

Two big, soft titties, swollen with love and lust, rising under his hands. 
Two soft arms around him, loving hands stroking between his buttocks, 
fondling his balls. A body that seemed-and this was as great a surprise to 
Nancy Stone as to Jeff-to know exactly what to do. Rising at the hips as the 
boy's body rose, and which came down hard and drove forward as he plunged 
his prick into her, the upper and lower rim of her vagina milking him in a 
schoolboy's dream of superlative fucking. 

He thought of Sandra with a twinge of conscience. She'd planned this. He 
owed her so much. Would he have any left over for her? He hoped so. Her 
young cunt couldn't be any better, but it was so sweet, so hot. And he had 
promised her. The thought of his little sister's unexplored sweetness made 
him fuck hard and deep into this oddly tight cunt, so gorgeously hot, so 
unbelievably juicy and loving. The lovely feel of being just before a cum 
slowed him up, and he fucked more leisurely into his mother's warmly sucking 
vagina. He would try his best to get it up for Sandra. It would be fun, 
trying. They'd have a million laughs, and she would understand if he 
couldn't do it. 

But there was Mrs. Meredith to think about. Her sweetly giving cunt. And 
little Rocky. Somewhere in his mind there lurked an idea that someone had 
promised he would fuck the tiny little blonde. Her young pussy was so sweet, 
so tender. And she had been just wild when he had sucked her. And she had 
sucked him. He knew that she and Sandra had finger-fucked each other a 
million times. And probably fucked each other with cucumbers and batons and 
rubber snakes from the toy store. But he knew he was the first guy who would 
really get a cock into her. 

The thought hardened his young dick and made him hammer even harder into 
this older, sweeter, more mature blonde twat. 

His mother was gasping in his ear: "Oh, darling! Oh, my darling boy! It's 
sooooo gooood! SO GOOD! SO GOOD! OHHHHH! OHHHHH! OH, MY GOD! OH, JEFFIE, 
FUCK ME! FUCK ME! AAAARRRGGGHHH! Ohhhhhh, ohhhh, oh! Oh, Jeffie! Oh, my 
baby!" She kissed him hard, her face bathed in sweat, and whispered: "You 
made mama have the most marvelous climax!" 

He fucked into her hard and brutally, feeling her leap as he smashed into 
her nerve-raw tenderness, giggling as she cried: "Oh, don't! Please don't, 
darling! It's too much! Let mama rest!" 

He said: "Okay, then. But no more of that climax crap. I made you CUM! Get 
it? Darling Jeffie made darling mommie CUM!" 

There was the swaggering note of male ambivalence in his voice again. Nancy 
did not fear it, she loved it. In her heart, she knew that if she leaned on 
him with parental suasion, she might tame him. God forbid! He'd be afraid to 
fuck her. And that, the way she was feeling, would be unbearable. 

So she bumped up at him just a little and whispered: "Of course, Jeffie. You 
made me cum! 

You certainly did!" She had never felt more marvelous. And that dear, loving 
husband of mine, that I've starved for sex all these years, is he ever going 
to make me cum! And will I ever fuck him half-silly! She thought this in a 
tender rage of love, and it started a new wave of fuck-joy up inside her, in 
the awakened depths of her cunt. 

She began to fuck again, gently and precisely, in no hurry to draw that 
second load of jazz-juice from her little boy's big-boy nuts. She loved the 
hard grind of his cock against the sensitively cushioned cunt-mouth, the 
sickly sweet jar of it against her hidden womb. Soon, she would milk it dry, 
make it shoot its big jets into her hot and slippery vaginal pouch. 

Thank God for the robe under her, the chaste and matronly terry cloth robe 
that would absorb the puddle of her cum and his. 

She was approaching another orgasm, and her heat transferred itself into his 
balls and cock. But he stubbornly held on to his load. This fuck was so 
great. But he had others to think about. He'd give his mother two or three 
more good, hard cums before he let his seed go spurting up her cunt. 

That way, he'd be sure to have enough left for Sandy. Loving, lovable little 
Sandy! But, oh! This was marvelous fucking! His cock was making sloshy 
sounds as he jabbed it into the slick tightness. And after he and Sandy had 
had their fill of fuck-and-suck, and his belly was full of her sweet pussy's 
delicious juice, he could sleep. Because, next day, there would be little 
Rocky. And maybe, Mrs. Meredith. 

After all, a promise was a promise. His mother had taught him that. And his 
mom was great! He was holding on to her titties, slippery with sweat, and 
fucking his boy cock into her with short, hard strokes. She was so 
wonderful, so sweet. Promises were sacred, she had told him. It made him 
think of his sister, Sandra, and of Mrs. Meredith. And of sweet little 
Rocky. 

"Oh, baby!" his mother moaned. "Fuck me, baby! Fuck me!" 

"I will, Mom!" he cried. "I promise!" He began to cum. He had promised. And 
promises had to be kept. 


THE END
