Little Brother's Big Thing

by Lee Schlangen

Copyright (c) 1972 by Surrey House, Inc. 6314 Riverdale Street San

Diego, California 92120 U.S.A.

"Living in the boarding house gave all of them more sex than they could

handle. Still it was little brother's big thing that held most of her

attention ... so rigid and so near and so always ready for her hungry

lips."

Chapter 1

"Stupid sonofabitch! Where you get off bein' so cheeky!"

"AIN'T CHEEK! I SEEN 'IM!"

"DON'T SASS ME! GODDAMN UNGRATEFUL WHELP! YELL AT ME I'LL TAKE YOUR HIDE

OFF!"

Friday night at Ma Conner's boardinghouse. Seven of us at the table and

one skulking from chair to chair trying to get a handout without Ma

seeing him. Eight, and only five were paying guests. Typical scene, too,

and my food was churning already, like it always did by the time I could

get away from that dining room.

As if it weren't bad enough to sit down to every meal with my pussy taut

from wishing Eric would get under the table with me or something! But,

no; that must not have been enough. Always there had to be the yelling

and name-calling between Ma and her sister's boy, fifteen-year-old Will

Dennis. She'd raised him from the age of nine, after his mother had

abandoned him to go whoring in Chicago. Ma was right; he ought to show

some respect after all she'd done for him. He didn't. He acted as if he

hated her. He let his hair grow until it hung onto his shoulders and

talked radical and probably even smoked pot! And he got mad every time

she reminded him how much he owed her. So they fought at every meal, him

defying her with his snapping, black eyes and crooked teeth and weasel

nose and her pushing back the coarse hair that kept falling across her

forehead and setting her jaw and shrieking.

It wasn't that I couldn't take it ... or Mark, my fourteen-year-old

brother, for that matter. It was just I was scared to death Eric would

get a bellyful and tell Ma where to stick her goddamn place.

As usual, though, it was suave, dark, snake-like Duane Fowler who got

pissed off, while Eric patiently ignored the row and worked his way

through his double portion of dessert.

"For Christ's sake! Sounds like an Irish fishing wharf!" Duane growled.

"Belt the little snot and be done with it!"

Ma didn't take a lot of shit off her guests and I don't think she really

cared right then if Duane did leave. She fixed him with a baleful glare

and drew herself up, swelling as if she had an air pump hooked into her

boobs. "Who the hell asked you, Duane Fowler? Just because those

know-nothin' owners in Kansas City think you got the brains to run the

Emporia Bowl doesn't mean you been out of diapers long enough to tell me

how to raise a kid!"

Duane snorted. "Maybe being closer to the diapers makes it easier to

remember what works."

Ma sniggered behind her hand. "You're even closer to your high school

pettin' days. Hear that ain't gettin' you all you're lookin' for down at

the alleys."

That hit a nerve. Duane shot a dark glance toward me and made a snarling

noise in his throat. Before he could think of a retort Ma's daughter

slipped a knife into the open wound. Nancy was a "super-sophisticated,"

prematurely mature kid, to judge by her opinion of herself, and she kept

up on the gossip around Emporia.

"Even with breaks," she added. And then, as if on some totally unrelated

subject and with a quick sideways glance at me, "In fact, they say

there's some kind of excitement down along the river these days. A real

pusher ought to get down there."

I choked and thought about climbing over the table at her. I'd had to

fight Duane off ever since he'd come in as manager of the Emporia Bowl.

And that, after I'd changed jobs to get out from under that filthy Mr.

Goldstein's thumb at the Bijou Theater. For three and a half miserable

years, when I was too young to get another job without Mr. Goldstein's

recommendation, I'd submitted to all the degrading experiences he could

devise. As cashier at the Bowl, I'd thought I had it made. And then

Duane had arrived.

But I'd held him off. As stories began circulating from girls who had

bought his line, I'd cringed and firmed up my determination to stay out

of his clutches. Even when he kept me late with phony recounts at the

register and nit-picking stuff about receipts, I'd held out. For the

past three weeks he'd been harassing me that way, and I still hadn't let

him make any headway.

Somebody had pulled the rug out from under me, though. Somebody had

started a rumor I was slipping off to the river at quitting time and

taking on whatever came along. Man or boy or boy-and-dog, the whispers

went, Lee Schlangen's taking on all comers. Down on the river bank.

Duane could have shot those rumors down with one sentence. He could have

confirmed my claim he was keeping me at the register and on the books a

couple of hours every night. But all the bastard did was smile knowingly

and make a "tch-tch" noise and say he found it hard to believe Miss

Schlangen would do all the terrible things they said. In the looks he

gave me, it was plain he'd put a stop to that ugly talk once I came

across for him.

But even under Nancy's dirty-minded, hurt-'em-whenever-you-get-a-chance

attack, I couldn't look at the man without chills of fear chasing

themselves up and down my back. I did see Mark sort of lurch in his

chair as if he were about to bring something to Nancy's attention. So I

kicked his shin good and hard and scowled at him. We couldn't afford to

run from Ma the way Eric or Duane could. Not even if Mark had begun

hearing the stories and was getting cut up by that little snot's

innuendoes.

Eric looked up from his empty dessert plate with a bemused sort of

expression as if he'd just gotten there. "Hmm ... Nigg was telling me

they're taking record loads of fish out of the river this month. You

might want to take a crack at them, Fowler."

Goddamn him! He was such a gentleman! He could always come up with

something to take off the pressure, and yet he wouldn't give me the time

of day. Wasn't always like this! I thought. You had real hot nuts for me

when you first moved in! Wasn't until you started listening to some of

those big-mouth bastards you decided you were too good to get mixed up

with a tramp like me! And most of the stories just as big lies as the

one about the river. I could have cried. Pious shit! I fumed. What makes

a Dock Superintendent on a truck freight dock so goddamn pure!

I knew, though. It wasn't being the superintendent and in line for a

real promotion into the Kansas City office. It was just what kind of man

he was ... tender and thoughtful and conservative ... great, muscular,

six-foot-two body for backing up his authority ... words enough in his

vocabulary so he didn't have to use the short, ugly ones unless he

wanted to. With his crewcut light brown hair and unlined face and

physique, I kept imagining he belonged in one of the pictures in that

book about Greek gods Mark was studying. And I loved him until sometimes

I thought I'd die. Only he wasn't about to tangle with a reputation like

mine.

Try supporting yourself and your kid brother like me! I thought. Start

out when you're about eighteen--just barely--and he's twelve and only

Ma's good word keeps them from sending each of you to some foster home.

Just try working to make up the difference between a piddling insurance

check and what it costs to live, even at Ma Conner's. Then see what kind

of reputation you end up with!

I'd reached the bottom of the self-pity well. I couldn't stay in that

damn dining room another minute! I sort of stumbled to my feet and

muttered an excuse and got out of there. I guess Mark was just about as

up-tight as I was, because he growled something and came after me. And

of course, faithful old Gunner gave up his attempt to wheedle a mouthful

and padded after Mark.

As I went through the archway toward the stairs I heard Ma sniff.

"Hmph! A body'd think we could have one civilized meal around here. I

swear, young man, I don't know what's come over you! Mark my words,

you'll get your come-uppance!"

And Will's whining, belligerent response. "Awww, ain't my fault

everybody's got a wild hair!"

Chapter 2

For some reason my thoughts kept swirling back to Mr. Goldstein while I

climbed the stairs. God, how I hated that man! He'd been pudgy--not

really fat, just smooth and pudgy and sweaty--and he'd seemed to me to

have as many hands as an octopus. I'd been scared to death of him the

first time I'd had to talk to him. Mother and Daddy hadn't been dead

longer than a month and I'd already realized the insurance wasn't going

to stretch far enough at Ma Conner's. I mean, there were two of us no

matter how you looked at it, and that meant it cost for two instead of

one. She'd gone to bat for us and kept them from splitting us up, but

she did have a living to make, herself. And the people who paid her for

board and room furnished that living.

The trouble was, I actually lacked about five months of being old enough

to be my own boss. Technically, Mr. Goldstein should have gotten a court

okay to put me to work. And that would have meant somebody from Welfare

snooping around his place all the time and him filling out extra forms

and all sorts of other trouble. But he did understand how desperate I

was. So he hired me without going through the formalities. They'd wink

at it so long as I kept my nose clean, he assured me. It wouldn't be

fair to pay me what the other usherettes got, either, he pointed out,

since they were all legal and didn't involve him in any risk. And I

could see that and accepted what he was willing to pay; at least I could

come out just about even at the end of every month.

Only keeping my nose clean really had meant doing whatever Mr. Goldstein

wanted me to. I hadn't been working more than a week before one of the

patrons made a big fuss about losing his wallet. I looked for it--he was

sitting right on the aisle where I was working--and never did find it.

Mr. Goldstein was worried about that. He made me keep looking. And when

everybody else had finished and gone home, I was still looking. And Mr.

Goldstein was watching me look.

So I was crawling along between two rows of seats and my miniskirt was

hiking up to my ass--he insisted on real short skirts for the good of

the business--and my head ached until I was practically blind. And all

of a sudden I felt his hand on my back, sort of between my shoulder

blades, and his other hand grabbed my pussy. God! What could I do? I

could yell some and struggle some more, but I didn't have room to break

away. And before I could get out more than the first couple of yells he

had his hand inside my panties and one finger lying in my slit. He was

as fast as a cat, too! I didn't even know how he'd done it, but he got

astride me, his knees holding my waist and wedged between the seats and

his rump over my shoulders! And that gave him two hands to use where he

wanted to.

I'd grown up in a little town about twenty miles upriver from Emporia. I

knew farms and farm animals and farm kids. There wasn't anything about

sex I hadn't heard and sniggered about and gotten shivers over. Maybe

I'd even hidden behind a woodpile once in awhile. But mother and daddy

had done what they could to teach me what was "right" and what was

"wrong." I could remember how daddy's belt had stung those times when

he'd found out I'd slipped a little.

So I was full of horror and panic at what Mr. Goldstein was doing. But

that finger in my slit felt good! Oh, God, so terribly good! And I

couldn't get away from it! He jerked my panties off my legs and grubbed

at my pussy lips with those pudgy hands of his. He pried them apart and

rubbed them between his fingers and worked one fingertip around the

quivering, raw little rim of my cunt-mouth. And all I could do was make

my hips go! I knew there was cunny-juice there; I could feel its heat as

it oozed out and the cold as it began to dry. He spread it all over

me--on my pussy lips and into the crack between my "bum-apples," as one

of the boys used to call them, and right on my scared, puckered little

asshole!

I can't remember everything he did that night. It all gets foggy in my

mind. But I do remember the way he wrapped his arms around me, just

forward of my hips, and lifted my bottom into the air. My feet were

waving and my back felt like it would break, and everything was wide

open for him! I remember how hot and wet his mouth felt when he shoved

his face into my ass crack. I remember the weird, fiery sensation when

he kissed--YES, ACTUALLY KISSED--my asshole. But the most fantastic

recollection of all is what it felt like when he started wedging the tip

of his tongue into that puckered, winking little hole. Oh, Jesus! What

an unbelievable sensation! Sweet and awful ... delicious and agonizing

... so exciting it made tears come to my eyes and so repulsive it made

me want to throw up!

I didn't throw up. Not then or any time after. But I could have killed

myself for some of the things I did because he made me do them.

Especially when I found out the projectionist was staying at the theater

every time Mr. Goldstein and I did. And that he was taking movies until

they had hundreds of feet of me doing all those things. It was too late

to quit, then. And Mr. Goldstein started letting other men use me. And

boys!

Well, that was the one part I liked right from the start. Those sweet,

cherubic, eager little boys with their peewee-cockers that were just

barely ready to turn into hard-ons and the way their little foreskins

peeled back and left them all red underneath and the way they ...

God! Anyway, Mr. Goldstein got another real young girl in there after

I'd worked three and a half years for him. And he let me quit and take

the cashier's job at the Emporia Bowl. And I began to get over that

awful period.

I guess I thought mostly about those little boys while I climbed the

stairs and went back to Mark's and my apartment. I know I was thinking

about them when I went inside. And I went right through my bedroom to

the sun porch Ma had enclosed and let us have for a sitting room of our

own. It was dark in there and I dropped onto the beat-up old rattan

lounge and stared out the low windows at the cottonwoods and the street

lights and wondered if any of those little boys recognized me now when

they came bowling.

I was a little ashamed of myself; the crotch of my panties was wet from

the goo my thoughts had triggered. My hands shook a little, too, but

that was mostly from the fury and frustration I'd felt in the dining

room.

There was a faint scuffling sound and Mark plunked down on the edge of

the lounge. He leaned over me and sort of cuddled me without saying

anything, as if he were twenty-two and I were fourteen. I let myself

float in the warmth and security of his boyish embrace for awhile and

then chuckled quietly.

"It's going to be okay, Markie. You know that Latin phrase you keep

saying."

"Means 'Don't let the bastards get you down'?" he asked.

"That's the one. They can't get us down." To my horror, my voice cracked

and I started to cry. It's that bastard, Eric! I thought. He's the one's

getting me down!

Mark just held me tighter. I felt him squashing my boobies and tried to

smother the abrupt wave of cock-hunger that washed over me. I cried

harder and he squeezed harder and I had to squirm. I mean, my hips were

squirming. I was sort of curling up around him and panting through the

sobs and my pussy was burning up!

I don't know how he did it, but somehow his hand moved and brushed my

bottom. It was like touching a match to a rocket! I grabbed him and hung

on. My tits rubbed on him and my knees jerked up to jam my thighs

against his buttocks and I was all over him! And his damn hand was all

over! He didn't rub my thigh with it more than a couple of strokes,

probably, but while I was still twisting around, he got it onto one of

my boobs. He could have done anything, then. He was all those little

boys rolled into one, and I was going to teach my own brother how to get

the most pleasure out of fucking!

He didn't fight when I scrambled around so he was lying down and I was

over him. He didn't object when I propped myself up so my boobs were

right above his face, either. He simply unbuttoned my blouse and pushed

my bra up off the swaying mounds and buried his face between them. But

he did jerk pretty hard when I grabbed his hard-on through his

trouser-front. That really seemed to shake him!

I didn't mind. I let him buck a little while I unzipped his fly. And

when my hand had burrowed inside and clamped onto that naked, smooth

cylinder and his wiry pubic hair was pricking my hand, he was welcome to

flop around all he wanted to. He was clear gone, though. All of a sudden

he wanted to do whatever I wanted him to. He let me undress him. He lay

there with his eyes big and round and his mouth forming an "O" and let

me take his pants and shorts off and held his arms right for me to get

his T-shirt off. And he lay there as if he were paralyzed, looking sort

of scared ... scared of what was happening, but more scared to move.

"I'm not going to hurt you, honey," I told him, real soft. "Don't you

see? I just want you to learn.

"Yeah." He gulped.

I let my dress settle wider on my shoulders, then shrugged so it slipped

away from them. I stood perfectly still while the material sagged and

wrinkled and slid down me a little at a time. It hung around my hips,

twisted and draped, and I tugged at the bra cups Mark had shoved up. My

boobs filled them again and I worked one shoulder strap real slowly off

my shoulder, then the other, and pulled my arms out of them. Mark's eyes

bugged as he stared at me. "Sis? ..." His voice sounded strangled. "Sis!

You're! ..."

When he stopped and didn't say what he'd started to, I pushed my bra

down to my waist. Just like that, I pushed it down so my tits spilled

into the open. Mark licked his lips with the tip of his tongue and I

turned the bra around at my waist so the catch was in front where I

could unfasten it easy. And I pulled the empty thing away from me and

let it dangle from my hand, slack and flat without its stuffing of

flesh. I tossed it away, suddenly not feeling nonchalant or superior,

but just as scared and unbelieving as the scared, naked kid who lay

there staring up at me.

"Oh, Jeez, sis!" he whispered, kind of hoarse-sounding. "Oh, Jeez!"

As if his awe were a spur, I stiffened and fumbled at another button on

my dress. Loosened, it gave the flimsy garment just enough freedom to

start sliding again. A fraction of an inch at a time, the swell of my

hips came in view--and the broad, sweet curve of my lower belly. My

panties hugged me intimately, too thin and clinging to soften the crease

at the top of my pubic hair or to hide the dark-shadowed hump where the

hair mat thrust forward on my love mound. In the rays of the rising

moon--they reached in through the windows and bathed me with their dusky

radiance just like in some mythical rite--wisps of black hair twisted

around the edges of the panties and were silhouetted against the smooth

whiteness of my flesh.

The dress passed the fullness of my bottom and slid off my thighs with a

rush, exposing their rounded taper and the taut rigidity of my knees. I

stepped out of the crumpled garment and began to work my panties down.

Again, Mark made a strangled noise. His breath hissed unsteadily and he

whispered. "Oh, Jeez! Oh, Jeez, sis! I never seen ...!"

"I know, sweetie." Real soft and tender, like a mother soothing her

child. "I know you never. Don't you see, honey? It's time!" And I kept

showing him more and more of that secret flesh he hadn't seen. My pubic

hair bulged out when the panties freed it, springing full and curly, and

my hands shook when I touched part of the crotch of the flimsy garment

and found out how wet it really was.

After my whole pussy was uncovered and the panties were halfway down my

thighs, there wasn't any way to keep the suspense up. I bent and quickly

stripped the messy things from my legs and kicked them and the dress

away. And then I stood over him, letting him get his fill of a figure as

good as any in Emporia--and better than most--while I studied that peter

of his and contemplated how much a man he'd become.

His pubic hair was still a little thin. It clustered into strands that

curled in tight ringlets, clinging to the base of the white-shafted,

veined, swollen-headed cock. His balls lay half-overlapped in the hollow

between his thighs. Their bag was drawn-up and taut, goose-pimpled under

the sparse hair that grew on it, and the nuggets inside reminded me of

prune-plumbs. His pecker looked like it was going to burst! It lay

stiffly on his belly, its tip almost hanging over his belly-button, the

head bulging inside its stretched foreskin, which gaped at the end as if

gasping for breath.

It exercised a hypnotic charm on me, that innocent, straining young

organ. I sank slowly to my knees beside the lounge and laid a hand on

his thigh, my fingertips reverently caressing the silken texture of his

scrotum while I lowered my face closer and closer to that lovely,

pulsing, thick-veined rod of meat above it. With my lips parted

expectantly, I touched the softer underside of his dick with a tender

kiss. I nibbled at it for a moment while Mark jerked in a deep breath

and tensed his thighs. His knees rose and separated when I continued

nibbling along the turgid stalk toward its crown, and he groaned.

"Oh, sis! Jeez, sis! ... Unnnhhh! ... Nnnggg!"

I fingered the sweet stem, the pads of my fingertips stroking along its

sides while my teeth squeaked on the twitching foreskin. He acted as if

he were afraid I meant to bite the raging pecker off. Every little nip

brought a sharp flinch, his belly jerking and his cock leaping under my

lips. His fists pressed tightly to his hips, clenching and unclenching.

But he couldn't fight the eagerness I was arousing in him; his knees

spread and his heels dug at the cushion while his hips started grinding.

"Uuuhhh ... nnnNNnnn! ... Oooh, sis, let me play with you, too!"

"Mmm? ... Mmm! Okay!"

I sighed. It was so comfortable and so beautiful this way,

kneeling--sitting on my heels with my boobs resting on the edge of the

lounge and just touching his hot, young body while I loved his throbbing

dick. I'd have to stand, bending at the waist, if he wanted to dabble at

my pussy. But I couldn't refuse his young male need. I pushed myself up

and bent over him, smiling to myself at the way my boobies coned as they

hung beneath me.

He caught at me, pulling me around toward him, and when my leg bumped

the side of the lounge and stopped me, he seized that ankle and lifted

my foot, swinging my leg across his chest. I gasped at the way my pussy

had so suddenly been pulled open to his view. I struggled for a moment,

but his hands held me securely and he continued to maneuver me until I

knelt astride his chest, his upper arms resting on my calves and pinning

my legs. And I stared right into the tip of his cock, shivering at the

weird notion the hooded bulb was leering back at me.

I hitched myself over him, my tits brushing his hard, flat belly, and

took the young cock in both hands. Lying on him, feeling the thickness

of that boyish rib cage wedging my thighs apart and his clumsy,

trembling fingers fumbling at my pussy-lips, I lost the artistic

detachment I'd felt and became suddenly the voracious, cock-starved

female. I extended my tongue and lapped at him. I scoured the skin of

his scrotum, feeling his balls slide against each other under my

tongue's pressure. I straightened the crusted hairs and stripped them of

their musky coating on the surface of my tongue, letting them spring

back squeaky clean. And I laved the dear, quivering trunk of his cock,

its flavor strong at first with the remnants of sweat and seminal

secretions, then clean and fresh and scented only with its own subtle

man-smell.

I paced myself. I fought off the ever-growing impulse to gobble at the

waiting, bulging head of that glorious prick. My tongue lingered over

the last of its homage, caressing and teasing his drum-taut foreskin and

twirling with tantalizing persistence around the very rim of that darkly

gaping opening that would lead to his cockhead.

Mark was groaning continuously and twisting ferociously. His fingers

dragged through the furry pelt that clothed each of my pussy-lips and

probed tentatively at the hairless crevice between them. But I knew he

was overwhelmingly distracted by the strange, delightful sensations in

his dick. And at last my impatience broke its bounds. My hands closed in

hard rings over the broadest girth of his hooded cockhead and started

working his foreskin back. Terror threaded its way into my thought;

maybe he'd never peeled that sheath to expose the tender meat inside!

Maybe it wasn't going to be elastic enough to release that one

blood-packed knob I wanted so badly to taste--to fondle--to gulp into my

throat!

The edge of his hood was like a band of tough wire. It compressed the

meat within as I worked it back. Mark wailed, his voice quavering and

fearful, and thrust his butt into the air in agony.

"Sis! ... YAGGHHH!... EEEIIIYE! ... OH JEEZ, SIS! ... LOVE OF GOD,

DOOOONNN'T!"

I slipped the recalcitrant sheath back into place and worked it gently

back and forth, testing it as it began to stretch and loosen. Dear God!

I prayed. Oh, dear God, don't let me hurt him! And don't, please don't

let it be so tight I can't get it back! Oh, please, God!

Little by little, the hard band softened and stretched. Little by

little, the dark, tortured glans came into view. And I put my mouth to

it and bathed it in soothing, healing saliva and caressed the

sensitized, blunt, quivering nose with my tongue.

"MmmMMmmmMMmmm! ... AHHahhAHHH! ... Sis! ... That feels ... UNNNHHH! ...

feels weird! ... Bad and ... and goooOOOD!"

Back ... back more ... stre-e-etch ...! Now let it relax and slide

forward ... and cover .... Now push-push-push ...

strip-peel-stretch-wiggle-stretch ... And relax ... and stretch ... and

relax ... and stretch ... and ... it's ... going ... going

goooiiinnnggg! It was a silent chant. It was a litany of desire. It was

a prayer of lust and need and love for this innocent child who was my

brother. And it was a frantic appeal. And, Oh, dear God, there it goes!

THERE IT GOES!

Taut and shiny, a bright red where the inner surface was being exposed,

the stretching, resisting, now-tissue-thin hood slipped back until its

tightest rim clamped the shoulder-ridge of his cockhead in its embrace.

Mark writhed, his fingers digging into my hot, pulsing pussy-lips with

heedless force while he tensed against the unknown.

Knowing I could win--knowing I was the boss over that mindless, stubborn

piece of skin--I felt a silly rush of triumph and a determination to

flaunt my superiority. Instead of stripping it the rest of the way onto

his shaft with a quick, easy pull, I thrust it forward to cover the

trembling, dewy cockhead again. Slowly, then, the tiniest fraction of an

inch at a time, I worked it back toward the flare. As it went back, I

teased and wet it with the tip of my tongue until it glistened with my

saliva. I pushed it exactly to the greatest width of his cockhead and

stopped it there, licking it all the way around and nibbling at it with

my lips, massaging its drum-hard-tautness with the warm, firm softness

of my mouth.

Again I worked the foreskin forward and again stripped it to its

tightest position, again licking and massaging. And again and again,

while the tortured, red-streaked, shiny appearance changed to a bruised,

mottled-purple, relaxed look. When it stopped binding at the flaring,

riblike shoulders, I finally stroked it past them and smoothed the fatty

flesh-rich hood along the unyielding hardness of his shaft. And I

lovingly caressed it again with my tongue and took playful bites of the

inside-out foreskin with my lips, smearing its still-relaxing

undersurface with my spit and lipstick.

Mark's virgin cockhead was now mine. It quivered like firm jelly before

my eyes. I held the shaft in my hand, gripping it like I had held ice

cream cones as a child, and turned it and waved it so I could study the

head. It made me think of a startled, half-frightened kid looking at me.

It was hard-packed, young flesh, raw-meat colored and a velvety texture

under the wetness. The upper surface--I had to push his cock up to a

vertical position to look at that--was bulging and domed at the end. It

swept around a full curve and began to flare, swelling out to a wide,

thick ridge at the rear. When I lowered his cock toward his belly, where

in its stiffness it wanted to lie, the undersurface was up where I could

see it. And it was like the whole bulging, meaty knob had been pulled

together there and welded, leaving a part of the seam open for a

passage. The shoulders dipped in where they came together, and they

pulled up toward the tip a little, flattening at the end of his slit.

The edges of the slit were rolled-smooth, textureless flaps, almost,

that gaped apart when I squeezed his cock and drew together when I

relaxed the pressure.

A swelling drop of clear, thin liquid trembled on the slit, bridging the

gap and threatening to break and spread over the surface. And I knew it

had formed after I'd finished stripping back his foreskin, because my

tongue had scoured his cockhead then. I extended my tongue to scoop up

the drop. My breath was short and my head buzzed with the excitement of

the moment as I flipped the sweet fluid into my mouth and let it spread

slowly over the waiting inner membranes. The taste, flat and metallic

and faintly musky, made my mouth pucker and my tongue press against the

roof of my mouth. My palate seemed to quiver and the joints of my jaws

to tighten at the taste. I swallowed reflexively and touched the edges

of his slit again. With slow, loving strokes, I lapped at the

smooth-curved bulges of his cockhead and polished the rubbery flesh.

Mark was groaning. His flat, young belly was writhing, its muscles

twisting and rippling with his reaction to the attentions I was giving

his eager, twitching cockhead. His thumbs pried my swelling, sensitized

pussy-lips apart and explored their inner, fluted lobes, making my hips

jerk and weave in a quick, erratic rhythm. I put my lips to his

cockhead, parting them to let part of the smooth, warm cock flesh

protrude into the domain of my tongue. And I sucked, drawing on the

trembling meat as if it were the tip of a cigarette--or as if I were

giving a love bite and would afterward be able to see the splotched,

bruised surface I'd pulled the blood to.

The subtle man-taste of that spongy bulb aroused my eagerness and made

my self-control crumble. I gobbled at it, gulping it fully into my mouth

and settling my lips around the throat of the shaft. The broad dome

nudged at the back of my tongue and I squeezed, shaping the pulpy mass

to the contours of my palate while I sucked hungrily. With deliberate

thrusts of my head, I forced his cock back and forth in my mouth, my

lips sliding up and down the first inch of his shaft and the knobby bulb

ramming from front to back of the hot, wet cavity. I shivered with

delight each time his roundness bumped into the arch of my throat and

swallowed continually as his youthful fluids seeped onto my tongue.

Mark seemed to get the idea. Groaning happily, he grabbed me, his hands

closing on the fronts of my thighs and brushing against my belly. He

pulled back and down until my pussy settled over his mouth, and his

tongue began to stroke the soft, puffy bulges along the inner slopes of

my parted pussy-lips. I was giddy with delight. His caresses were jerky

and uncertain, but they were enthusiastic at the same time. Cautiously,

I thrust first one leg back and then the other, moving my knees out from

under me and extending them past either side of his head. And I felt

rocked by excitement at the feel of his ears and the shorter hairs at

the sides of his head where they were impressed on the sweat-moistened

inner sides of my thighs.

The only noises in that moonlit sun porch were the wet, slurping ones of

greedy tonguing and sucking and the puzzled whimpers of Mark's anxious

dog, Gunner. I fondled my little brother's balls with one hand, the

swollen young eggs sliding over each other inside their crowded bag and

the covering puckered and coarse against my fingers.

And I ran my manicured nails lightly up and down the exposed part of the

ribbed, pulsing, taut-skinned cockshaft through narrow, trickling

rivulets of my own escaping saliva.

His tongue explored my twat, lapping at the inflamed membranes of the

inner lips and probing deeper to the aching, juice-coated floor of my

slit. I could feel my cunt-rim winking as if it were trying to trap the

passing tongue-tip and the hungry, writhing emptiness of my inner

passage. My tits now flattened beneath my weight, their pulpy, nodular

tissues spreading over my brother's belly. I swayed from side to side on

their spongy cushioning and let the quick waves of pleasure wash through

me. And I bobbed my head, jacking his thick, engorged cock back and

forth over the yielding surface of my tongue while I sucked. My hips

jerked fiercely as Mark forced his tongue to the rim of my cunt-mouth

and twirled it on that rubbery ring. His smooth, firm young cheeks held

my pussy-lips open and worked continuously against them in a way that

kept triggering new eruptions of streaming cunt-juice at his sucking

lips.

Suddenly his hands stiffened against my hips and he thrust me off his

mouth, my twitching ass rising into the air.

"Sis! Jeez, sis!" His words were thick and slurred. "C'n I fuck you now?

You gonna let me fuck you?"

I reluctantly pulled my head back to release the straining, leaping

cock. "Yes." I swallowed convulsively, the heady flavor of his sweet

cockhead lingering at the back of my throat. "Yes, hon, you can fuck me.

You want to do that now?"

"Now, sis! Jeez, how much can a guy take?"

"Okay." I felt light-hearted and happy, now, my bitterness and self-pity

washed away in the freshet of his innocent lust. "Okay, sweetie. Let go

of my legs."

He let me get my knees under me again and I turned around to face him,

straddling his waist and raising myself erect over him. He looked

puzzled and rested his hands on the taut front muscles of my thighs, his

thumbs burying themselves in my dark pussy-hair.

"Whatchya gonna do, sis?"

I didn't say anything. I simply reached under my gulping cunt and

grabbed that lovely, rigid dick of his again and lifted it away from his

belly. Raising it so it stood upright under me, I let myself down toward

it, wiggling my hips so my pussy wove back and forth as they approached

the now-trembling dome. My pussy-lips closed around the thick knob,

their steaming wetness lubricating the contact and guiding the cockhead

to the throbbing, greedy rim of my cunt-mouth.

Mark's eyes widened and a grin spread slowly across his lips. "Oh! Ohhh!

I get it, sis! OOOEEE! ... This is going to feel like the greatest!"

We sort of flowed together. My cunt-mouth was hot and wet and stretchy

from his sucking and his cockhead was so very smooth and round that the

rubbery rim just gobbled the heavy knob right in. The hot, thick, soft

walls of my vagina wedged apart as the inward-plowing cockhead bored its

own passage between them and reamed the tube his shaft would lie in. As

my cunt-rim slid down the length of the ribbed cylinder, I drew a deep,

shaky breath and seized my own thighs.

"UNNNHHH! ... MAR-KEE!" My words came out as jerky gasps. "How's ... it

... feeeeel!"

"YNNNGGG! Shit, sis! ... W-w-warmmmm! ... AIGHHH! ... GRRREAT!"

The bristly, sparse wisps of his cock-hair jabbed into the gaping,

inflamed membranes surrounding my sinking, cunt-mouth. My hot, oozing

flesh molded itself over the bulging base of his cock and the front

ridges of his thighs rose to meet my quivering, wriggling ass-cheeks.

Mark grabbed my wrists and squeezed, then lifted his hands to my

swaying, full-sloped boobs and cradled them.

"OH, FUCK! OH, FUCK! THE GREATEST, SIS! A GLOVE FOR MY PECKER! JUST LIKE

A TIGHT GLOVE FOR IT!"

I bounced a little bit and he gasped.

"Ohhh, shiiit!" he groaned. "Let me!"

He shifted his hands to my ass, raising me a couple of inches, and his

hips snapped, jerking his ass off the lounge and plunging his stiff,

deep-buried cock upward through the crowding organs. Dropping back, he

thrust again and then again, each upward stroke ending when his hard

cock-base slammed into my pussy. My tits leaped like water-filled

balloons and my hair bounced all over my shoulders. I leaned forward

enough to brace my hands on his belly and held my ass off him while he

pounded at it with his pumping hips. His giant cockhead churned my belly

and the thick, slippery dick-shaft scrubbed in and out through the

tight-clamped rim of my cunt. I shuddered and shook my head giddily.

"MMMMM! ... YAGHHH! ... FUCK ME, SWEETIE! ... BLAST ME!"

"JEEZ, SIS! ... OOOOFFF! ... UNNNHHH! ... RIGHT UP YA!"

His blows speeded and strengthened. He hit my pussy hard enough to fling

me right into the air, lifting my knees off the lounge, and I clung to

him, my fingers biting into his sides to keep me from being thrown off.

"OH, SWEETIE! OH, SWEEEEETIE!" My voice shook, half sob and half laugh.

D-D-DON'T BLAST ME LOOSE!"

"HANG ON! OH, SHIT, HANG ON, SIS!"

An enormous knot of excitement and tension was forming in the core of my

belly: I knew I was going to blow into an orgasm within seconds and I

wanted to be even closer to this dear, hot-blooded baby brother of mine.

I dropped forward, my boobs squashing like pulp over his chest and my

hair falling over my shoulders onto his. Tears wet my lashes and moans

of happiness bubbled from my parted, twitching lips. I kicked back with

my feet, extending my legs outside his, and let my pussy settle around

the base of his cock.

"Oh, sweeetie!" I whispered. And I yelled. "OOOHHH, HONNNEEEY! FUCK

HAAARRRD! ... HAAARD! ... I'M CUMMMIIINNNGGG! ... CUMMMIIINNNGGG!"

"YEEEAGGGHHH! ... MEEE TOOOO! ... UNNNHHH! ... NNNNN!"

"MAKE IT, MARKIE! ... OHHH, MMMAKE-IT!"

He stopped blasting and strained up under me, the base of his cock

grinding my clitoris and the full, meaty cock throbbing inside me. The

knot of excitement seemed to rupture, a great tide of hot pleasure

surging over me and gut-twisting, spasmodic contractions squeezing my

inner walls onto the implanted peter. I went rigid, arching my back and

surrendering to the fierce tremor that took me in its grip. My pussy

seemed to crawl on his hardness while he pulsed and jerked and his cum

spurted against the upper end of my barrel. The warm jism pooled in me

and my belly seethed with its new load. My ass-cheeks tightened and

clamped together and I pushed my upper torso up with stiff arms to let

my weight ride on his spewing cock.

"AGHHH ... UMMMMM ... MMMMM ..." I twisted violently and felt the inner

convulsions easing. "Ohhh, honnneeey! ... Sooo goood! ... Markeee,

baby!"

"Yummm! Sis, I never came that hard! Not ever!" He shivered and put his

arms around me, crushing my naked, slender body against the sweaty,

quivering, boy-flesh. "Hot, wet, tight cunt-walls, sis! They just milked

everything I had out of me! Jeez, what a way to cum!"

In the returning awareness of my afterglow, I felt an abrupt need to

make him understand. "Mark, honey ..."

"Huh?"

"Marky, don't let fucking get to be just a wild, dirty way to get kicks.

Always remember how good it can be when you feel right to start with."

"Huh! You blow your mind, sis?"

I tried desperately. "Listen, honey! Think! It's best when it means

something besides just getting your balls off! When you're as close to a

woman as you can get and you've still got to get closer, then fucking

gets you closer!"

"Uh ... okay ... yeah, sis, I see what you're driving at. Okay."

I hoped he did. I lay in our sweat, sliding a little on his happily

squirming belly, and made my cunt-mouth squeeze his softened prick

affectionately. He giggled and bumped my pussy with his pelvic arch and

raised his knees a little to force my thighs further apart.

And he sighed. "We sure fit together good, sis. You're nice to fuck."

By the note of contented love in his voice I knew he did understand. He

might find the notion strange and foggy, but on a gut level he did

understand.

"Marky ... I love you ..."

"Aww, sis! ... Aw, I love you, too. But let's don't get all mushy.

Okay?"

"Okay." I had to laugh. "Okay, sweetie."

"Hey, sis. This isn't going to be the only time, is it? We're going to

fuck lots of times, aren't we? Please?"

"Sure. Sure, we will, Marky."

"And we won't always make it something real serious, will we?"

"No. We'll make it fun."

"And play around and try stuff and things like that?"

"Sure. Sure we will."

"Mmm! Okay, sis." And he squeezed me hard.

Chapter 3

We stayed on the lounge quite awhile with Mark's pecker still in me. It

was soft and had shrunk a lot, so some of his cum oozed out around it

and got both of us gooey and sticky, and the smell of cock got pretty

heavy in the night heat, but everything felt great to me. We couldn't

stay that way forever, though; Gunner kept whining and nudging at us and

his wet nose was awfully cold when he poked it against my side or reared

up and stuck it between the backs of my legs.

So we got up and giggled a lot and took a shower together. It was the

first time either of us had done that. Mark got another hard-on, what

with both of us being soapy and slick and him rubbing against my tits

and feeling around. But I wasn't about to let him climb onto me again

that night. I mean, a girl doesn't have any right to spoil a kid, even

if she is the one who's supporting him. I turned off the hot water when

he wasn't looking and the cold stream shriveled him up in a hurry. Even

after that, though, we toweled each other dry. I'm afraid I was just

about as horny as he was, and I had the most delicious feeling about

being able to do just what we wanted to. I made sure the door to the

hallway was locked and we went back to the sun porch and left our

clothes off and talked.

We didn't turn on the lights; the moon was shining in so bright we could

almost make out colors in its glare. And a couple of times we heard

people going past in the alley and got up and stood right in the window,

naked and gleaming in the silvery light, with me hanging onto Mark's

cock and him getting a handful of tit. Nobody happened to look up, and I

guess that was pretty lucky. If they'd seen us and said anything to Ma

Conner, our ass would have been in a sling.

Somehow we got around to talking a little about what had happened at

supper. Mark was sorry for Will, although I felt the kid deserved

whatever Ma said.

"Aw, sis!" Mark argued. "How would you like somebody all the time

telling you how much you owed her? And knowing your mother didn't even

care enough about you to care what happened to you? Wouldn't make you

real nice, I bet."

"Well ..." I hadn't thought of Will that way. He was just a nasty,

irritating kid, as far as I was concerned. But when Mark put it that way

I did have to admit Will had an awful lot of provocation for being a

snot. "Well, maybe ..."

"Who likes him, sis? Ain't one person here that does! What's he got

going for him?"

That got me where I was weakest. Mark and I had found out all about

being lonely and miserable. But at least we knew our mom and dad had

loved us and done everything for us they could while they were alive.

Will hadn't even had a father; everybody in Emporia knew he was a

bastard. And then to lose his mother the way he did--to have her take

off to be a whore and not even see that anybody was going to take care

of him ...

Well, that was bound to make him feel terrible. It was bound to make him

bitter and defensive and contrary. The worst part of it was, like Mark

said, nobody anywhere liked the little shit! The more I thought about

it, the worse I felt. I'd been just as mean to Will as I could be. I'd

gone out of my way to make things miserable for him. And there had been

a few times when he'd actually tried to be nice to me, like a dog you

kick around still comes nosing around with his tail between his legs

trying to make you like him.

Maybe I was still thinking about that the next morning. I know I wasn't

being very careful. I let Duane Fowler trap me in the upper hallway

before I even realized he was there. I guess I was worried about two

things. I didn't want to have it on my conscience I'd helped drive a kid

out of society. But neither did I like the way Mark seemed to be trying

to pattern himself after Will. I mean, I was beginning to see signs of

Will's rebelliousness and contempt for what he called the

"establishment" cropping up in Mark. And I sure wasn't going to stand

still for that!

So there I was. I ran right into Duane ... bumped into him and fell back

and looked up to see him looming over me and grinning down at me.

He gave me a real leer and ran his stare right down over me as if I were

naked. And he said, "Hey, baby! We've got hours and hours before we've

got to open up the alleys. What do you say you come on into my apartment

for little cozy loving up?"

I backed a little further away and looked around to see if anybody was

around. I knew Mark was still asleep in his room and it looked like Eric

might have gone out already. Anyhow, there wasn't anybody in sight

upstairs. So I sort of bristled and tried to bluff my way out of it.

"Get lost, man! Maybe you've got plenty of time to waste! Not me! And I

don't want any of your loving up!"

"Aw, don't be a sorehead. And don't play so hard to get! Hell, I know

you don't mind putting out."

"You don't either! You know those stories aren't true!"

"Yeah? How would I know? Where there's smoke there's fire, I always

heard."

"Well, I'm not hot for you, Duane Fowler. You just leave me be! I

wouldn't sleep with you if you were the only man in Emporia!"

He turned ugly. He stuck out his jaw at me and sort of bent toward me

and I thought he might hit me. He didn't; he just snarled. "Shit! One of

these days you're going to piss me off, kid! What's to keep me from

grabbing you right now and yanking you in there? Bet you wouldn't even

holler!"

"Better see I can't get my fingernails to your eyes, you bastard!"

He kind of lowered his voice. "One of these days, twat! ..." And his

eyes looked like a snake's. "One of these days I'm going to tie you up

and take some of the sass out of you! Time I get through, you'll beg me

to fuck you every time you see me!"

"Fat chance!" I flared at him, a great big chunk of ice in my belly.

He made a sudden lunge as if he meant to grab me. I whirled with a

choked yell and made a dash for my own door. I flung it open and dived

through. And as I yanked it shut I realized he hadn't taken one step

after me. He was still standing there, feet widely planted and hands on

hips, laughing up a storm!

Just the same, I didn't go back into the hall until I'd made sure he

wasn't there. By the time I did go downstairs, Mark was up and went with

me. And everybody was already there. Eric was taking the day off,

letting the assistant superintendent handle the dock, and he had on a

real snappy-looking pair of brown slacks and a yellow, pull-over

sportshirt. His muscles bulged under it and I felt like a giant hand was

squeezing my chest.

I spoke to him without thinking. "Oh, gee, you look nice!"

"Hmm." He didn't sound the least bit interested in how I thought he

looked.

"Eric ..."

"Hm?" He still wasn't interested.

"Eric ... those things Nancy was hinting last night ... there isn't a

bit of truth in them."

He just lifted his eyebrows ... didn't even say anything. And Nancy

edged in our direction. She hadn't heard what I'd said; I'd kept my

voice low. But maybe it looked to her like there was something

developing between Eric and me. She made her hips sway and twisted her

shoulders a little so her boobs would look bigger than they were and

fluttered her eyelashes. And when she lowered her head and made a

shy-type smile that wouldn't have fooled anybody, Eric actually smiled

back at her.

It made me sick to my stomach, and I went on into the dining room for

breakfast. Will was there. When I sat down, he went into one of those

"good-dog" acts, trying to make up. Well, maybe "good-dog" didn't fit

this time. He was pretty blunt and outspoken.

"No call for that stuck-up brat to go around making dirty digs at people

like she did," he remarked. He didn't raise his head ... simply spoke

around a mouthful of cereal and shoveled in another bite.

"What?"

"That stupid Nancy. She's a squid."

"What's a squid?"

He glanced up, then, an expression of lofty pity there to irritate me.

"What Nancy is," he said.

My conversation with Mark came back to me. I had to try to be nicer to

Will. "Thank you for caring," I told him softly. "It makes it a lot

easier to ignore her."

He choked on the bite he was swallowing. "Huh? Thank you?"

"Well, nobody else cared enough to think about how nasty she was being!"

"I ..." He looked confused and maybe a little upset, as if it screwed

everything up for somebody to do something besides yell at him. "Well

... nobody stops and thinks how rough it was for you and Mark to have

both your ma and pa killed at once. I mean, they ain't lookin' at what

it's like when you gotta support your kid brother. The establishment

don't make no allowances for that kind of cases. You're on your own like

everybody else. And if they c'n get their hooks into you, screw you!"

I didn't like all that talk about the establishment. It was like saying

something bad about the flag, almost. "I don't know that I understand

that part about the establishment. I mean, what have I got to do with

that?" Maybe if I led him on a little I could show him where he was

going wrong.

"When you got time someday, I'll explain." He was starting to sound

superior again, like that type usually does when you pin them down.

"Why not this morning?" I asked. "I've got some time after breakfast."

"Aww ... There would just be somebody interrupting and making a big

noise and not knowing what they were talking about."

"No! Come visit me! We can sit on the sun porch and watch the people

down below and talk without anybody bothering us!" He wasn't going to

get away with any old excuse! If I could force him to talk sense just

once he'd see what silly slogans he was mouthing.

He acted as if I'd trapped him. "Naw. Mark wouldn't understand me trying

to make you see. And then he'd go around telling everybody all about it

and laughing."

"He's going fishing with a couple of the kids down the street. He won't

be there."

"Hmph." Will was as contemptuous of fishing for channel cats in the

river as he was of the establishment. "Well ... okay! I'll come up! Only

you don't really want to know."

"You'll see." I knew he was preparing himself--making excuses ahead of

time for the fact he didn't have anything to back up the meaningless

phrases he'd learned.

But he did come up. When he rapped on the door and I opened it, I

glanced up the hall to see if anybody was there to notice and breathed a

sigh of relief nobody was. As nasty-minded as people were getting to be,

no telling what they'd say if they saw him coming into my apartment. I

let him in and closed the door fast. And just to be sure, after I

motioned him through to the sun porch, I locked the door so nobody would

come in without knocking.

For just a second or two, I stood there with my hand on the lock, a

strange tingle going over me. There was something appealing about Will

in spite of his disagreeable personality. He acted as if under all his

bluster he was as naive and inexperienced as Mark. He was only a little

older, and if everybody reacted to him the way we did at Ma's, there

wouldn't have been much of a way for him to have any experiences. I let

myself wonder for an instant if his foreskin would be as tight and

unmanageable as Mark's had been if a girl were to try it, then shook off

the notion and scolded myself. For Christ's sake get a hold of yourself!

I thought. Just because he's a male and you've got him alone with you in

your apartment doesn't mean you've got to teach him how to fuck! This

isn't the Bijou! Don't be a slut!

So I went out and sat with Will and watched people going by below and

listened to him. He didn't have any better idea what he was talking

about than I'd expected. All he knew was the slogans and catch phrases.

But he did keep glancing at my boobies out of the comer of his eye, and

for the first time I didn't feel dirty about his looking at me. It kept

coming back to me that it was lack of love that made him such a mean,

nasty kid. And I kept drifting back to the idea one person could wipe

out all of that aloneness and hurt.

Chapter 4

Thinking about how close he was to Mark's age and how all alone he was

and how Ma never did anything but pick on him, I got all motherly and

tender toward him. He wasn't acting the way he usually did; not all

smart-ass and know-it-all. He did try to explain the rebellious way he

felt. And he did get uncomfortable when some of the things came out

sounding pretty hollow. But most of his sincerity most likely was

because I listened and didn't shoot him down every time he made a

statement.

Pretty soon, when both of us knew he'd said everything he knew, he

looked at me real solemn-like and shook his head. His voice was so low I

could hardly hear what he said. "How come you're so different, Lee? You

ain't a bit like anybody else I know." And then, his face kind of

working, "Mark sure is lucky."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't say anything right away, but just

looked into those black eyes of his and let the misery behind them soak

into me. Then I realized he was going to embarrass himself by letting

his lip quiver if I kept looking at him that way. A fifteen-year-old was

terribly young and vulnerable, I reminded myself. He might be grown-up

enough to screw, physically, but he was still a little boy mentally.

"You had something important to say," I replied as softly as he'd asked.

"I wanted to understand. Besides, it's important what you believe."

That was the wrong thing to say, I guess. Suggesting he was important to

anybody but himself cracked the shell he'd spent so long building around

himself. His eyes glistened and I knew he had tears in them. On impulse,

moving before I knew I was going to, I went to him and stood beside his

chair cradling his head against my belly. He sat real rigid for a minute

and then his shoulders started to shake. I didn't say anything or do

anything, except my fingertips sort of rubbed the side of his head. And

before long the shaking stopped and his arm slid around me at hip level.

His arm was squeezing my ass-cheeks and his hand was on my thigh and

sudden, jagged knives of desire were slashing through me.

He was still young enough to teach, I realized. He'd appreciate it like

Marky did, I thought. He'd be all big-eyed and breathless. And he's got

a young, tender, smooth-headed cock like Mark's. I rubbed my love mound

on his shoulder and rubbed the side of his head harder with my fingers.

And I bent so one boob rested against his forehead and hung in front of

his eyes.

With the contact, everything in me turned on. Pleasure made my stomach

flutter and sent hard tingles shooting into my nipples and brought an

abrupt, twitching tautness to my pussy. My mouth watered at the thought

of that sweet, uneducated young peter hiding in his pants. He was bitter

and lonely, but he could melt the bitterness and wash away the

loneliness in the delicious closeness I could teach him.

I rubbed my tit on his face, the soft, hot flesh scraping against the

layers of cloth separating his flesh from mine. And I thrilled to his

quick response as his hand dipped to the short hem of my skirt and slid

up my thigh.

"Just rest, sweetie," I whispered. "There're ways of being not lonely."

"Gawddamn!" he exclaimed with an awed tone. "You for real?"

"You made love before?"

"Me? Uh ... well ..."

"Don't tell me, sweetie. I don't want to know that." He hadn't. His

hesitation told me that. And it wasn't fair to make him say so. But he

was a virgin, just as Mark had been. I was going to be the one who

taught him.

I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it free of my skirt. And I continued

to bend over him while I reached behind my back to unfasten my bra, my

hands under the blouse. I shrugged out of blouse and bra quickly and

rubbed my bare tit in his face for a moment, then stepped back. I let

him stare, knowing whatever he'd seen of boobies had either been in

pictures kids had with them or through crevices where curtains hadn't

quite cut off the view. He gawked. His tongue worked at his lips and his

knuckles whitened as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Man, what pretty knockers!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "Real gone

jugs!"

"Feel them. Come over here and feel them." I dropped into my chair again

and leaned back like a duchess. He came to me, kneeling beside the chair

and feeling the round, warm smoothness of one boob. His fingers explored

the rubbery, moist surface of the nipple, rolling it between them and

pulling it outward a little to see it stretch. The front of his pants

bulged, tenting over the hard-on inside.

I twisted my shoulders to present the other tit. "Don't make this one

jealous," I warned him. "Always be fair when you're Playing with

boobies."

He gulped and shifted his position until he could reach with both hands.

"Cripes, Lee! They're all soft and mushy!"

"Huh! Mushy!"

"Aw, shit! You know what I mean! Firm, but the inside stuff sort of

slides out from under my hands! You know! I didn't really mean mushy!"

I giggled and sighed. He was going to be fun to teach. The student who

was afraid he'd make his teacher mad was the kind who tried hardest.

I touched the bump in his pants with one fingertip and he jerked back

convulsively. His face reddened and he squirmed. I felt dizzy with power

as I pushed myself to my feet. There wasn't any question about who was

boss. He might be a rebel on the street, but on my sun porch he was

being humble and cautious. He was scared to death of me and of making a

fool of himself.

I unzipped my skirt and slid it over my half-slip. His eyes bugged at

the way the white nylon of the slip hugged my hips and cupped in at my

crotch. His Adam's apple bobbed spasmodically. Stepping out of the

skirt, I stretched the elastic in the waistband of the half-slip and

began to wriggle out of the garment.

He groaned. "Cripes, Lee! Something's gonna give!"

I chuckled lightly. "Sure, sweetie. I am."

"Nnnn!"

The slip came off my hips to reveal sheer green panties. At the crotch,

one strand of dark hair had escaped and curled against the pale cloth.

Will stared open-mouthed at it and made a light, whimpering sound in his

throat.

Gaily, I began to roll down the top of the panties. When they stretched

in a taut line across my lower belly, pubic hair peeping over them, I

reached down and slid the slip off my thighs. I made sure he could see

clearly while I lifted one leg, then the other, out of the clinging

garment. And I made a work of art working the panties down to expose my

pussy. The crotch was darkened by the pussy-juice I'd already oozed, and

I knew he was seeing a pink, glistening set of pussy-lips through the

veil of my curling, thick brush.

I stood before him, then, still wearing my self-supporting stockings and

high heels. He was shaking like an old man. Even his hips were jerking.

I turned all the way around for him, letting him feast his eyes on the

delicate, clean curves and tantalizing mounds.

"Give you an appetite, sweetie?" I asked gently.

"I dunno about no appetite," he grumbled, "but I'm gonna have hot nuts

pretty quick!" "Well take care of that. Now, it's your turn. Why don't

you get undressed for me?"

"Oh, cripes! What if somebody comes, Lee?"

"We're both going to cum, sweetie!"

"Aw, shit! I mean ..."

I let my laughter tinkle around him. "I know what you mean. Nobody's

going to come in. The door's locked."

I thought I saw a strange light flicker in his eyes, but it was gone so

fast I decided it was my imagination. His fingers fumbled with his

clothes. I thought he never was going to get them off! But he finally

did, and when he pulled down his shorts, his cock leaped erect with such

violence I could hear it slap his belly.

He had more body hair than Mark. He was going to be a hairy man, I could

see, and he already had a good start. What made it more obvious was his

hair was a glossy black. That made it look thicker than it really was.

He gave his clothes a healthy kick and sent them flying into a corner.

His face a study in embarrassment, he quieted his fidgeting and faced

me. His fists were clenched and tight at his sides while his cock

trembled in front of his belly. We faced each other silently while he

slowly overcome his embarrassment by appraising me. When I'd heated up

to the steaming point under his stare, I backed him to one of the

straight chairs and pushed him onto it. I was quaking inside; taking the

aggressive role with a fifteen-year-old was a whole lot different from

babying the twelve-year-olds Mr. Goldstein had made me teach.

But I hid my growing terror behind a bold, brazen exterior. With a

knowing smile, I placed my hands on his shoulders and slowly inched

toward him, straddling his legs. He was having obvious trouble getting

his breath and his cock quivered, it was so hard. He laid his hands on

my hips, his eyes wide with concern over making the wrong move, and I

kept moving in until my pussy-hair flattened on his belly. My position

was awkward; I had to bend my knees outward sharply or spread my feet at

a horrible angle because of the way the chair seat wedged my legs apart

that close in. And if I spread my feet as far as I'd have to, I'd be

forced to put too much of my weight on him. So I kept my knees out and

my feet in and stood on tiptoe.

My boobies hung right in his face, and he held his head still, as if it

were carved out of stone. An imp of perversity got hold of me. I twisted

my shoulders gently from side to side, making first one tit and then the

other bump his cheek. He colored again, but he began to get the idea,

turning his head to press his face to one boob or the other. I drew back

just a little and positioned one boobie in front of his face, the nipple

brushing his lips.

Once again, he froze up.

"Go ahead! Kiss it!" I said.

He gulped and kissed it. The way he jerked back and the expression in

his face, I was sure he hadn't ever gotten his mouth on a tit before. He

kissed the pink, wrinkled lump again, his lips tightly together like a

kid who's kissing somebody for the first time. Then, with a quick glance

into my face, he touched the velvety button with the tip of his tongue.

"Ooh! Feels funny!" he exclaimed.

"Try getting it between your lips," I suggested. Christ, isn't this kid

ever going to thaw? I wondered.

He obeyed. His lips closed on the quivering, eager nubbin and he worked

it back and forth in them, getting used to the feel. I felt the tip of

his tongue exploring the puckered end of the nipple and quick little

thrills of pleasure began to well inward. It seemed to take him forever,

but he gradually warmed to the action. Without my having to tell him, he

started sucking. And the moment he did, the nipple began to swell. The

puckering vanished, every hollow filling with newly-turgid flesh, and

the lump thrust outward from the face of my boob. The way his tongue

began to caress the sides of the nipple, I knew he could tell the sudden

difference.

He was getting over his shyness, too. His hands slipped around from my

hips onto my firm, rounded, smooth ass-cheeks. He squeezed with his

fingers and wiggled the warm mounds, pulling them apart and closing them

together. And to my surprise, his fingers worked gradually toward the

center and into my ass-crack.

The composure of the teacher deserted me; by taking the initiative, he

was arousing my femininity and producing the deep, inner excitement that

comes from mental awareness of sex rather than simply from external

stimulus. I felt my pussy writhing with hungry, gulping motion and my

thighs tightened and trembled. I let myself down onto his lap and leaned

back to keep my boobies at an angle where he could continue sucking at

them. And I put my feet on the upper rungs of the chair, my knees

angling out further, and pulled myself closer so my pussy rode against

the cylinder of his cock-shaft.

He was becoming increasingly self-confident. "Hey, Lee! We're gonna

fuck, ain't we?"

"You think this was a tea party?" I giggled. "Of course, we're going to

fuck!"

"Mmmm!" He squeezed my ass-cheeks and lifted me.

Sliding down on the chair, his ass going out to the front edge of the

seat, he got his cock under me. He maneuvered it until his cockhead,

pulsing and ready, was touching my steamy slit. And he let go with his

hands.

I didn't settle onto his cock ... not yet. "Wait, sweetie!" I protested.

"Just a minute. Okay?"

"Uh ... what for?"

I grinned. "Secret."

He looked disappointed and suspicious, but he grunted assent.

I got my feet on the floor, struggling to keep from impaling myself on

his waiting cock, and backed off him. Pushing his knees apart, I knelt

between them.

"Hey! Whatchya doin'?"

"Sweetie, a man's got to know he's not just a stick for a woman to screw

herself onto!"

"Huh?" He sounded as if he thought I was crazy.

Maybe I was a little. It was something pounded into me while I worked

for Mr. Goldstein, and I didn't know if I'd ever lose it. Anyway, I bent

close to his peter and caressed it with my fingertips. It seemed a lot

smaller than Mark's, but it was nice. The base was just about hidden in

the thick, black hair around it, but it stuck up hard and smooth. The

hard shield on the back and sides was indented and ridged, as if it were

made up of rib-like bands, and the meaty part bulged between the edges

of the shell all the way from base to head. There were veins showing

faintly blue beneath the shiny, tight skin, and the foreskin looked

heavy and wrinkled even with his hard-on.

I nibbled at the underside of the bobbing cock-shaft as if it were an

ear of corn, and Will's thighs tensed and started to shake.

"Whew! Oooh, that does feel good!" he exclaimed.

"It's supposed to."

My lipstick was already smeared along the length of the pale dick, and

as I lipped his foreskin it coated the soft, fleshy hood heavily. After

my experience with Mark, I was cautious when I got ready to strip back

Will's foreskin. I needn't have worried. The opening stretched easily

and slid back smoothly to expose the purple head of his cock.

He grunted when I pressed close to touch the round knob with my tongue.

But when I put my lips to the slit and started to suck, he went wild.

The whole game went to pieces!

He grabbed me by the hair and yanked my face away from the tender

cockhead. "Shit, that's going to blow me off too fast!" He pulled me up,

then swung me to the side so I fell across his thigh. And he got hold of

my waist and turned me upside down, my feet waving in the air and my

belly against his chest. He got one arm across the small of my back,

clamping me against him, then knocked my thighs apart and stuck his face

into my pussy. I could hear him sniffing.

"Jesus, Lee! Smell that cunt! Sweeeeet!"

He started licking, scooping up the thickening wetness and biting at my

pussy-lips. I locked furiously, enraged at so suddenly turning into a

toy for him. But the pleasure of the quick-probing, greedy tongue washed

away my anger and reduced me to a squirming, eager frame for my cunt.

"Ahhh! ... Unnnhhh!" I got hold of his thighs and worked my mouth close

to his cock. "YUNNNHHH!"

The naked cockhead quivered before me. I seized it with one hand and

rubbed it while his hips started leaping. Sliding my grip to the shaft,

I gulped his cockhead into my mouth and began sucking. Will twisted and

bucked, but he wouldn't put me down. Instead, he got my knees under his

arms and started licking around my asshole, grunting and wheezing. My

ass-cheeks were widely spread by the grotesque angle of my legs, and I

could only jerk my hips around while his tongue twirled around the rim

of my anus. Excitement fluttered through me. My boobs felt like two bags

of hot coals on his belly. I moaned around the meaty, seeping mouthful I

sucked on. And suddenly he stabbed the tip of his tongue into my ass,

twisting and reaming while I jerked my head up and babbled insanely.

"Yaghhh! ... Jesus Christ, Will! Dooon't do that!"

But I wanted him to. I loved the sensation and knew for the first time

what I'd made those little boys feel like. He stuck his tongue as far in

as it would go while I writhed and tried not to reach my climax. And

when he pulled out his tongue, he started poking fingers into me. I

gagged at the amazing feeling. His hand twisted continuously while he

widened my resisting anus by sticking more fingers into it. There was a

steady burning sensation, but the intense excitement that raged through

me submerged the minor discomfort and tore at my reluctance.

At last he swung me away and turned me right side up. "Let's fuck, now,

Lee! Okay?"

I was past the stage of being the boss. All I wanted was what he was

suggesting. "Yes! Yyyesss! Now, Will, NOW!"

He turned me around and backed me over him. He still slouched on the

chair, his ass on the very edge and his cock sticking up at me. My

pussy, quivering and wet and gulping, was ready to engulf the young,

jerking peter. And as he started to pull me down I sighed with

anticipation.

But he missed my cunt-mouth. His cockhead lodged in the crack of my ass,

bulging and hot against the rim of my asshole.

"Wrong place!" I yelled. "Wait, Will! Wait a ... YEEOWWWWW! ...

YEEIIIGGHHH!"

Brutally, giving me no chance to protest or resist, he clamped his hands

on my waist and drove me onto that thick, meaty spike. My anus flamed,

the agony filling me like hot air would fill a balloon. I could actually

feel the internal pressure swell me to the bursting point as that awful

cylinder wedged through the unwilling rim and plunged upward into my

guts. My arms and legs thrust themselves straight and my fingers and

toes splayed apart. My eyes bulged and my mouth opened to its widest,

the cords in my throat leaping taut with an unsounded shriek. I felt

myself slide down the length of his cock and slam onto its base,

buttocks flattened on the hardness of his thighs and ass cushioned on

black pubic hair.

He let go of my waist and grabbed my wrists, jerking my arms behind me

and locking them there. His hips jerked fiercely and bounced me up and

down his hot, slick shaft. The agony subsided and I began to be

conscious of the piston-like strokes of his bulbous cockhead in my

belly. He held my arms with one hand and reached around me to grope at

my pussy. And without thinking, I guided his fingers by twisting and

squirming until they found my clitoris.

"UNH! ... OOOEEE! ... Rub there, Will! Rub my Clit!"

"Your what?" He felt of the hard little lump with his fingertips.

"What's that?"

"That's my clit! It's like a switch! Rub it!"

He started rubbing, not gently and coaxingly but vigorously.

"EEEE! ... NOT ... SO ... HARD!"

But he wasn't listening. His cock was plunging and bucking in my ass and

he ground my clit against the bony structure inside me. My feet flailed

and my boobs jumped wildly, the excitement turning me giddy.

"AAIIIGHHH! ... OH, SHIT!... THERE IT GOESSS!" He groaned deeply and

arched himself, his ass high off the chair.

I felt his cock pulsing and the hot cum erupting in my gut. My passion

flared and the pleasure bunched, goading me toward a climax. But Will's

hand fell away from my clit and he collapsed.

"Sonofabitch, Lee! Ohhh, sonofabitch!"

"I'll sonofabitch you!" I yelled frantically. "Do my clit, damn you!

Make me come!"

He laughed, his voice sneering. "Fuck you, lady! Why should I do all the

work?" He pushed himself back in the chair, his cock jerking roughly out

of my ass, and flung me from him. "Go fuck yourself, you stupid twat!"

I lay where I had fallen, staring up at him incredulously. He'd turned

from a willing, half-scared boy into a crude, ugly little rat! He didn't

show any sigh of softening; the affection I'd tried to give him hadn't

done a thing for him! ... Except get him a free fuck in my ass! I

thought bitterly.

He didn't even wash himself off. He simply pulled his clothes on and

left the sun porch. "Typical establishment, like I was trying to tell

you," he remarked as he left. "Set a guy up with sweet talk and give him

a fucking!"

I cried. Dirty little sonofabitch! I thought. Somebody tries to be nice

to you and you stick it up their ass!

Chapter 5

I was burning up. I was mad at the little shit for fooling me the way he

had, but my ass was sore from its reaming and I was about to turn inside

out with frustration. I mean, he'd gotten me so hot I'd enjoyed what he

did! And then he'd thrown me aside without letting me have my orgasm!

And when dear, faithful Gunner came over and started nosing at me and

whining with sympathy it was more than I could take. I grabbed him and

threw my arms around his neck and cried into his ruff. Part shepherd and

part something with a lot of hair, he had a thick enough coat for a girl

to dry a lot of tears on. So I hugged him and sobbed. And he took it

patiently, licking at me now and then as if to say how sorry he was.

Once in awhile his tongue was next to one of my boobs, and when the

rough, warm surface rasped across a tittie it just made things worse. I

mean, it was like wet sandpaper going over one of those sensitized

nipples! It sent hot streaks through me and made my cunt-rim pucker and

my belly churn! And I knew that wasn't doing me any good! It was just

going to keep me hot without offering any chance for relief! The only

thing to do was to get into the shower and maybe rub my clit until I

could reach a climax.

I got hold of the window sill--it wasn't much more than knee-high--and

started to push myself up. But luckily I happened to be facing toward it

and saw the guy next door rocking on his porch and looking right at me.

So I sort of dropped back, hunched up on my hands and knees wondering

what to do. I'd have to crawl out of the sun porch, I decided.

Only Gunner was nosing around again. He poked his nose against my pussy

and sniffed. And it felt so good I waited a minute and let him keep

sniffing. He stuck his tongue out and licked, as if he were testing the

taste, then licked again like he meant business! God! I thought. Oh,

God, that's great! And then, Christ, Lee, why not! Licking like that

he's going to make you cum before you know it!

I did crawl. I got over to the lounge with Gunner right behind me, his

nose to my ass and his tongue jabbing at my pussy. I was thinking fast.

I wanted to be comfortable so I could enjoy the orgasm when it came. And

I wanted to make it easy for Gunner to get right down into my cunt with

that marvelous, flexible tongue of his. So I got hold of two of the

straight chairs and put one at either side of the lounge, just beyond

the end. And I flopped onto the cushion on my back and pulled the chairs

closer so their back legs rested against the sides of the lounge. I

raised my legs and hooked the backs of my knees over the chair backs so

I was split wide open.

"Okay, Gunner ... good boy! ... Come on, baby, get a mouthful. Goooood

boy!"

He didn't need an invitation. He stuck his nose right down to my pussy

and nosed along my pussy-lips with slobber dripping off his tongue and

started to lick. My God, what a technique! He didn't just lap it up; he

acted like he was getting dessert! He sort of scooped along the rim of

each lip first, his tongue broad and covered with barbs that lifted the

pussy-hairs and combed them and stripped off the dried stuff on them. I

got hold of the pillows and pulled them under my shoulders to prop me up

so I could really see what was going on, and those hairs sprang away

from his tongue glistening-clean! He did that to both pussy-lips and up

around my clit, getting every bit of the stuff off the hair.

I was all swollen already, and the way I had my legs up and out, my

pussy-lips were spread way apart. Their inner faces were sort of bulging

and red and the thick fluids I'd oozed was in gooey, whitish layers. He

started licking at that stuff differently. He just dabbed at it with the

front end of his tongue, picking up a little bit at a time and shooting

sparks of delight through me at the same time. He went right along one

lip, cleaning the surfaces, and then started on the other. And my hips

started undulating and my boobs surged and I panted.

The floor of my slit was like a U-shaped valley with me split so far

apart, and it was swimming with juice! He scooped at that until I was

sure he was scraping skin off! But the sensations were out of this

world! I throbbed! My whole body was on fire! My cunt-mouth stretched

open and pulsed and my belly twisted and writhed. All I could do was get

my hands hooked around my thighs and pull, fighting to keep from

interfering with what he was doing.

Oh, Christ, yes! I told myself. Hell, yes, he's going to make you cum!

He gobbled up just about every drop of wetness on me. Even licked around

my asshole until it felt raw! And he discovered there was some left on

my clitoris. Jesus, I thought I was going right through the ceiling! He

knew what he was doing; he worked the hood back and polished its inner

surfaces while the hard, reddened little shaft quivered and the conical

little head swelled and jerked. And when I thought I'd taken all I could

stand, he decided to scour the tender little cock, itself.

"Omigod!" I cried out in absolute, panicky ecstasy. "Omigod, Gunner! No,

no! I can't stand that!"

He didn't pay any attention. He went right ahead and stripped off all

the flavor. And my hips flogged wildly, my legs tightening to lift me

into the air. I let go of my thighs and jammed my hands between the

cushion and the side rails of the lounge, shoving until they were firmly

wedged in. And my whole body leaped with the excruciating intensity of

my pleasure.

I was lucky. A clit just isn't big enough to collect much pussy-juice

and he stopped pretty soon. I didn't know I was lucky. I was ready for

my orgasm--I could feel the first deep buzzing in my belly that comes

when a climax starts--and I begged him to keep at it just a little

longer. But he'd got what he was after and was looking for more. And

when he found it I realized how lucky I was! I was so hot I was oozing

again, and some of the fluid had gotten out to the rim of my cunt-mouth.

He found that. Oh, Jesus, did he find it! He lapped it up and stuck his

tongue into the opening for more. And when he discovered it was

there--and fresh and plentiful--he drove his tongue right on into my

cunt, twisting and curling it and probing into all the inner folds until

it felt like some kind of fancy fuck I'd never even dreamed of! It was

like a whole new kind of pleasure had exploded inside me! When he was

licking my clit, the little organ was so sensitive it almost hurt, but

the probing and exploring inside my cunt didn't have any shortcoming. It

simply felt fabulous! I twisted and jerked and moaned. My arms were

jammed tighter than I'd thought and I couldn't even budge them, but it

didn't matter. That just gave me more leverage and saved me from falling

off the lounge.

I came. Omigod, how I came! My ass lashed up and down and my feet kicked

and my belly churned ... and then my orgasm hit me and I went totally

rigid! I think my cunt practically pinched Gunner's tongue off, it

contracted so hard. I could feel the spasms in my belly, one contraction

following another up the length of my vagina like the cars of a train

going through a crossing. I started to shake and couldn't stop. And my

voice did a funny thing, sort of rolling out whether I was gasping in or

wheezing out. And I kept on coming something awful!

At last he dragged his tongue out of me and stopped pushing his muzzle

against my pussy and the spasms got weaker and quit. I sagged, my

muscles relaxed and warmth seeped through me. It didn't matter if my

legs were still spread and hanging over the backs of the chairs like

something hung on a clothesline--or that my arms were wedged down on

either side of the lounge cushion so I couldn't move. When my strength

came back, I'd be able to figure out what to do about that.

And in the meantime, Gunner acted like he wanted to know what all the

groaning had been about. He reared up and put his forepaws on my belly

and studied my face. And I grinned at him weakly and made a kissing

motion with my lips. Maybe my belly isn't steady enough, I thought when

he stepped off it with one paw at either side of my waist. I don't blame

him a bit. Besides, he's heavy. He hunched his shoulders and lowered his

head and touched my mouth with his tongue. I laughed and jerked my face

to one side. I mean, who wants a dog licking her on the mouth?

There was something jabbing against my pussy-lips and I wiggled a little

bit. It did feel kind of good and I was too relaxed from that orgasm I'd

wanted so badly to ask myself what it might be. I just wiggled some more

and kept turning my head from one side to the other. I giggled some,

too, because that point on my pussy kind of tickled as it poked at me.

It kept getting closer and closer to my cunt-mouth, jabbing at the slope

of my pussy-lip and sliding along it toward the center, then jabbing

again and sliding some more, as if my pussy was a sort of funnel. And in

a moment it got clear to the center, where it nestled into the crater my

cunt-rim made. And it pressed right up tight like a plug.

"GUNNER! FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

His hips had jerked some and he'd clasped my waist with his paws and

tugged me toward him--well, tugged me further under him, I suppose. And

all of a sudden I stopped daydreaming and awoke to where I was and what

was going on.

"GUNNER! YOU SONOFABITCH! YOU'RE TRYING TO STICK YOUR PECKER INTO ME!" I

jerked my hips real hard and yanked at my arms to free them. But they

were still stuck, and jerking my hips lifted me enough his paws could

really slam me under him.

Slam me under him! Slam me right onto that big, slippery, sharp-pointed,

stiff cock, that's what! The point was already resting right in my

cunt-mouth! And he was jabbing with his hips and when his paws swept me

under him he slid me onto his peter as if I were a sleeve going onto an

arm!

I got my legs off the backs of the chairs first of all; I was going to

kick him the hell off me! That was for sure! But I couldn't really get

my feet into position to do any kicking. I mean, his thighs were

brushing my ass and when I lowered my legs some I was just holding him

between my thighs. And I figured that out right off! So I pulled my

knees up again and laid my thighs tight against his flanks and let him

drive his cock into me. What else could I do?

I remembered that pecker of his! It wasn't so awful big around ... not

as big as Mark's ... maybe not even as big as Will's. But it was long! I

remembered! When he'd get a real hard-on, that dong would stick almost a

foot out of its sheath, red and shiny and slick with some bluish streaks

on it and a long, sharp-pointed head!

And it was sliding up my tube! It felt plenty thick! Maybe my cunt-mouth

was just squeezing on it, I don't know. But it felt thick! And it kept

shoving up in me, plowing the walls of my vagina aside and bumping into

the hardness of my womb and pushing past it to the very end of my

cavity! And then it stretched the membranes and kept going!

Until I finally felt like he'd got another prick somewhere and was just