Chapter 1
If anyone had ever told me that I would be having real wild humping-sessions on a blanket with a strong, silent outdoor type prick-pusher like Luke, I'd say they were crazy. But here we were, both mother-naked before the campfire on this lonely island in the lower Mississippi, and me, Dee Dee Summers, just seventeen three days ago.
I was spread-eagled under Luke's king-sized cock and he was ramming it all the way up my delectable pussy as if he hadn't seen a woman in five years. He was being very talkative for a backwoods type.
"I never seen anyone as blonde and pretty as you, Dee Dee. For a young gal you sure are plenty woman. Big-titted and big-assed, just the way I like 'em!"
I put my breasts to his face to get a little more action and less talk. He began to kiss my nipples, making them erect and jut right between his teeth. Luke flicked them with his tongue and then when he started nibbling gently, the reaction really got to me. My pussy started to squirm under him like a can of worms. He steadied me a little by cupping my buttock cheeks and bracing his legs. I reached for what made him a man and tickled his balls as his throbbing cock kept plunging. I lifted my right knee to get more of his shaft in and he practically shoved his balls in too. His dick drove into me like a bull and I gasped with delight at his size and staying power. I put my legs around his middle and began a slow hip grind to steady him, but my ass could scarcely match his plunging prong.
Suddenly his torso stiffened as if he'd just drunk a quart of moonshine at one sitting. He howled happily as his big body shook with the surging spurts of hot, creamy, sperm squirting from his cock. He set me off too, and my cunny twitched blissfully, wriggling like a go-go dancer with St. Vitus Dance.
"Ain't screwing wonderful, Dee Dee honey?" Luke gasped after a while. "Here I went and found all this here treasure trove, you might call it. And then we found each other, and all this wonderful lovin'!"
I agreed. It looked for sure that I, Dee Dee Summers, had things made at the early age of seventeen. I had myself a likable red-hot young cock-wielder who wanted to marry me and I was going to be rich.
Dee Dee, I asked myself -how in heck did you get yourself into such a nice spot for once in your life?
Most likely you're wondering more or less the same thing. I mean, I am kind of telling this story out of sequence. Like, maybe I should start way back when I was a tiny little girl. Or even further back.
Way back when I was in high school I had to write a bunch of stupid book reports, on autobiographies they were, and I noticed that a whole lot of these type books start way back. Even before the person who wrote them was born. Which is pretty stupid if you ask me. Who's interested in anybody's grandparents or great-grandparents?
If you ask me, these frigate-birds who write autobiographies that start way back with their grandparents are just filling up space. I mean, their own lives are so dull they have to throw in a lot of junk about their ancesters and who they screwed or knocked-up just to pad things out.
And from all I've heard about my grandparents, all four of them, were just about the dullest bunch of creeps ever born. So I'm sure as heck not going to start my story with them. Also, I don't know all that much about them. Excepting that they were obviously creeps.
I don't see any point in starting way back when I was a little shy girl, either, on account of life was sure dull and uninteresting for me then. Largely on account of I didn't know anything to speak of about sex or men back then.
I sure learned early, though. And then some. And if I say so myself, I kept right on learning until now, when I'm a mature woman of seventeen, with a thirty-eight inch bust. I can honestly say that there isn't much about men that I don't know about first hand. Or to put it another way, there aren't many dick-tricks I haven't tried, manwise. So far, too, every shaft I've tried I've gotten a real kick out of. And then some.
But I guess I'm sort of digressing. That's a bad habit I got -digressing. I can't help it, though. It just seems like no matter what I start out thinking about, sooner or later my thoughts kind of slither around until I'm thinking about the eternal duo -cock vs. cunt instead. Or as well as.
Anyhow, getting back to where I should have started this story, chronology-wise. It's real hard to decide. I gave it a lot of thought, too.
The first thing I decided was that no matter what I wasn't going to start before I was thirteen, on account of nothing really interesting happened to me before that age. Then something real interesting happened -namely, I seduced my first boy.
At the time I was real proud of having gotten to be a fallen woman -and so pleasantly -at such an early age. But then I got to reading about how lots of girls in history started fucking it up even earlier. Like that Italian girl, Juliet, was only about thirteen when she and Romeo started staining the sheets together. And there was another Italian girl Beatrice her name was, who gave her hairless pussy to some poor poet named Dante when she was even younger. And that Egyptian girl, Cleopatra by name, she was married when she was just a tiny little kid, and didn't know what she had between her legs. But I understood, she found out later . . .
I learned all about the above girls in history at school. And just about the same time, I took this current events course, and that was even more interesting. Why it was interesting was that the teacher said each of us kids had to read at least one newspaper a week, only she didn't say which paper. In fact, she said we could read any paper we liked.
The paper I picked was this tabloid called, YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT THE WORLD! Old copies of which used to get thrown out behind the barber shop. And it was a real interesting newspaper, full of pictures of people who had just gotten murdered or found naked while humping somebody else's husband or wife.
I gave a report on the paper in class, and that dried-up old twat, Miss Thompson, who taught current events, made me take the copy I had out into the school yard and burn it in front of the whole class.
The only reason I mention this incident, though, was this tabloid had lots of stories about girls of only nine or ten or younger getting laid and having babies. Usually in Mexico or China. Well, having babies at any age seems like a big stupid mistake as far as I'm concerned. But obviously the girls in these stories wouldn't have had any babies to speak of if they hadn't been jazzing it up for sometime previous to their becoming mothers.
Which only goes to show how much fun a girl can have at a real early age. If she happens to live in Mexico or China, that is.
I tell you, after I read those stories I just sat down and wept, I was so miserable. Because obviously I'd sure been missing a lot of humping by waiting until I was all of thirteen before seducing anybody. I tell you, it just made me sick!
However, it isn't habitual with me to sit around weeping over lost opportunities. So I didn't sit around weeping long. No, sir. I just resolved that since I'd started my fuck career so late, I'd just have to make up for lost time. Which I preceeded to do. And have been doing ever since.
Anyhow, I suppose I could have begun this story with when I was thirteen and screwed a boy for the first time. But I eventually decided against doing so. Because while I sure had a ball during my first love experience, I got to admit I was real inexperienced and unsophisticated at the time. And it makes me feel kind of ashamed, now, to recall just how clumsy I was in using my nooky-wooky back when I was thirteen.
Nor, for various reasons, will I start this story with the first time I ever took on a boy for money -when I was fourteen and a half that was. Nor with the first time I ever screwed with more than two boys at one time. That being when I was a mature fifteen. Or with the time I just about ruined an entire boy's baseball team. I gave them all a piece of tail, mine, in one hour. That was when I was fifteen and one quarter.
Because while all of these events were darn interesting, they weren't as dramatic as -well, I just decided against beginning this story then, that's all.
Nor, for various reasons, will I start this story with the time when I finally ran away from home, on my seventeenth birthday. Or with any of the frigging and lust-lurid humping that happened to me right off while I was still running.
One reason I'd rather not start this story with what happened right after I ran away from home is that a lot of the things I did, physically speaking and otherwise, weren't really legal in the strict sense.
Like, strictly speaking, I guess it's true that I more or less committed murder at one time or another. Like the time I began to lay for this fellow Pete. Pete killed several people, including three boys who tried in a real fanatical way to defend the payroll they were carrying. He was a real man, was Pete. All the same, I shot him dead.
Like, fun was fun, but I just didn't trust Pete, even though he told me I was the best piece of ass he ever had. I mean, how did I know he wouldn't decide to kill me next? So I killed him first. Self-defense was what I'd call it. I shot Pete to prevent him from killing me later.
But naturally, cops being what they are, the cops didn't see it that way. No sir. The cops started chasing me like I was a public menace or something.
So naturally I ran like hell. I ran and ran and ran. Then when I got tired of running, I dived into the river, grabbed hold of a big tree branch, and let myself float downstream.
And that was how I happened to run into Luke. Dear, sweet, lovable Luke, kind of stupid Luke with his big bull-prick. I guess I fell in love with Luke, in a way. And Luke sure as hell fell in love with ¯ me.
Luke was a skin diver, but no ordinary skin diver. What I mean is, Luke had a purpose behind him. Said purpose being to recover a fortune in diamonds that had been lost in the river.
I realize that this may sound kind of improbable. What the hell, it sounded real improbable to me, the first time I heard Luke tell it.
But, as I found out soon enough, it was all true. The story Luke told me, I mean. The story, as Luke told it to me, was this: way back five years or so ago, there'd been these guys who were trying to smuggle diamonds into the country.
And they succeeded. They smuggled in half a million dollars worth -fifteen big, beautifully cut stones. Worth five hundred thousand dollars.
The only trouble, from their point of view, was the guy they trusted to fly the diamonds into the country wasn't very trustworthy. Like, he took off with the diamonds and tried to get clean away, keeping the diamonds all to himself.
He got off the plane from Europe all right, but instead of trotting right over to the other guys in the diamond-smuggling syndicate, he hopped right on another plane. He zoomed all the way down to Miami, where he hired a plane of his own, a little one, and started flying north again. Most likely he'd have gotten away with the double-cross, too except he ran into a storm and had engine trouble and crashed into the river.
Well, the police picked him out of the river a few days later, all banged up and dying, but they never did find the diamonds. On account of the guy was out of his head and couldn't give a straight answer as to where the plane had gone down.
So, according to Luke, the police -and just about everybody else in the vicinity -had hunted all around under the river where they figured it was most likely he'd crashed but hadn't found a thing.
After a couple of years everybody gave up. Everybody but Luke.
But Luke, dumb, lovable, bull-pricked Luke, had kept right on working on the problem. Got to be kind of a hobby with him. An obsession, you might say. He spent all of his free time poring over maps, trying to figure out just where those diamonds might be.
And finally he figured out the right answer. Looking back, I guess it was as much luck as anything. But Luke figured he'd done a right smart piece of detective work.
Anyhow, he figured out that the diamonds ought to be just offshore of a certain little island in the river, and he chugged up-river in a little boat loaded down with skin-diving equipment and camping supplies, landed on the island and started hunting.
Which was just about the time I more or less floated into his life. And right there you can see just what a lovable slob Luke was. I mean, if I'd been a guy hot on the trail of half a million bucks worth of diamonds, and some ripe-bottomed seventeen-year-old chick had all at once floated her way onto the island half drowned and pretty obviously on the run from the law -why, I'd have helped her out of the water (the way Luke did), and humped the living daylights out of her (the way Luke humped the living daylights out of me) -but after that I'd have bashed her head in with a rock and tossed her back into the river. Which Luke didn't do.
No, indeed. Not only did Luke not bash my head in with a rock -the better to protect his secret -but he fell in love with me. And he told me the whole story, about the diamonds he was hunting for, and was just about on the point of locating.
I mean, how trusting can a guy get?
However, notwithstanding that Luke didn't show good sense in trusting me the way he did, notwithstanding that he put an awful lot of temptation in the way of a girl who doesn't have much resistance to temptation -nothwithstanding all of that, I still wouldn't have done Luke dirt.
Not even after he found the diamonds, all fifteen of them, and brought them back to camp. No, sir. Because, like I said, I more or less fell in love with Luke, and that big everready hardon of his. I really couldn't help myself -he was so trusting and all. Wanted to share the diamonds fifty-fifty with me, he did.
With me. I mean, how dumb and trusting can a guy get? He even wanted to marry me. When for all he knew, I might be just a rotten little honey whore. Which, in a manner of speaking, is just what I am.
But, Luke couldn't see things that way. Luke was the sort of guy who goes through life with builtin rose-colored glasses -seeing good all over. Life being what it is, guys like that usually end up dead very young.
And that, I'm sorry to say, was just what happened to Luke. But I didn't bump him off. No, sir. I loved the stupid dong-head. In a way, I mean, I knew he had his weak points -like being so naive and trusting -but he had his good points, too. Like he was really built. With his amazing cock and giant balls he could hump me for hours without getting tired. And he thought a whole lot of me -which I found kind of flattering. And also he wanted to give me half the diamonds -a quarter of a million dollars worth.
And what normal, healthy, greedy female can help but love a guy who wants to give her a quarter of a million dollars worth of diamonds?
Well, sir, I can tell you that I sure figured I'd found my sir fucker and my Very Own Big Daddy Hardon all rolled into one the night Luke brought the diamonds back to camp and asked me to marry him.
I mean, I figured I had it made -likeable cock and money too!
But was I ever wrong.
First thing was we heard an outboard motorboat go by upriver. I got scared right off and told Luke we should put out our campfire -which we were sitting in front of stark naked, naturally and lie low till the boat went by.
But he just laughed and said nobody would bother us where were were, smack in the middle of an island in the middle of the river. So after a while I relaxed, and poured the fifteen diamonds into the palm of my hands to admire them the more.
Which was another mistake.
Because all of a sudden these three guys walked in close to the campfire and started kind of leering at us. And at the diamonds. All three were in their mid-thirties, like I said earlier, and all three were dressed kind of alike. Blue jeans, dirty flannel shirts, and kind of straggly beards.
Moonshiners were what they were. Moonshiners who'd seen the campfire on the island and motored right upriver past us -and then cut their outboard and drifted back to our island as quiet as a bunch of thieves. Which was what they were.
Well, even before they opened their cunt-lapping mouths it was obvious what they wanted. They wanted two things. They wanted the diamonds I was holding in my hand -and then they wanted to rape the living daylights out of my nakedly enticing pussy.
Well, I sure hated the idea of giving them the diamonds Luke had worked so hard to bring out of the river -but on the other hand, I sure wouldn't have given them any argument. Not seeing as how both Luke and I were naked, and all three of them had rifles slung over their shoulders, and hunting knives in their belts.
And as for being raped -well, there are worse things can happen to a girl than being ravished by a bunch of moonshiners. I know. Because worse things than a little ole gang-screw have happened to me in my time, notwithstanding I'm only seventeen years old.
But Luke -dumb, crazy, brave Luke -didn't take things all that philosophical. As soon as one of the moonshiners said, "We'll take those sparklers, Buddy . . . but first we'll take a little ride on that there cute little pussy, what looks all ready for some hot cock-action!"
As soon as he said that Luke just kind of went crazy and flung himself at them.
With tragic, if predictable results. One of the moonshiners, Vern, the others called him, swung the barrel of his rifle and -thwock -Luke's head was crushed in just like an eggshell or something. It made a real horrible sound, I can tell you. And it killed Luke dead awful fast.
Well, I just stood there feeling sick. Also scared right to the depths of the cunny these yokels wanted to get into so badly. Also mad as hell. But mostly scared. I mean, it was sure as hell true that I loved Luke, in a way, and these rotten dirty motherfucking lice had killed the man I loved.
On the other hand, I had to think about myself. And thinking about myself I had to realize -fast -that these creeps couldn't afford to let me walk around alive. Not after I'd seen them kill Luke in cold blood. Which meant that I was a terminated twat . . .
If I hung around.
And since I didn't plan on hanging around I turned and started running like crazy. And while I intended to run like crazy for as long as I could, I certainly didn't intend to lighten myself by tossing away half a million dollars worth of diamonds.
On the other hand, since I was already on an island, a little island, I couldn't run all that far without hitting water. And once I hit water I'd have to swim. And once I started swimming I'd have to use my hands to swim with. Which meant I couldn't keep on holding the diamonds tight closed in my fist.
So I did the only thing I could do. I tossed the diamonds in my mouth, swallowed, and then ran like the devil -with the three killers right on my heels.
It was horrible, believe me. I ran like a virgin at a navy ball through the low brush on the island, heard them start in pursuit, heard a shot sing right past my ears -and then I reached the river and plunged in and started swimming for all I was worth.
I heard one more shot, and then I heard one of them yell, "Don't plug her in the water -she's got the diamonds in her gut. We'll have to force them out her asshole! "And then I could hear them running back through the brush, and then the sound of their outboard motor starting -and then they were coming after me down the river, them in an outboard motor boat and me just swimming for my life.
I sure figured I was a goner. I can tell you. It was true enough I had a good hundred-yard start on them, but the river was awful wide at that point. Calm, too, which was bad. I mean, if there'd been lots of waves I'd have been harder to spot. But somebody swimming in calm water is awful easy to spot.
Also the damn moonlight was so bright it was like I was in a spot-light, and having real bright blonde hair the way I do, even on my pussy, I must have been awful conspicuous.
I kept right on swimming like crazy, headed toward the nearest river bank which was about a quarter of a mile away, but I didn't fool myself I could outswim an outboard motorboat, even a little one like the three creeps had.
And sure enough, I could hear them getting closer and closer, though naturally I didn't waste time turning around to look. Then I hear one of them yell, in a real nasty, jeering kind of way, "Keep swimmin', Blondie -you ain't going to swim far!"
And then I heard another one say, "Vera, Vern, kin I be the one who cuts her up? After you guys hump the harry out of her? Please?"
Well, it'd be a lie to say I swam faster, on account of I was already swimming just as fast as I could -but I sure felt like swimming faster.
I kept thinking. If only they have motor trouble or something or if the moon would go behind a cloud.
I never let myself be handicapped by morals in an emergency, which can be very helpful when most men consider you a desireable, sexy piece of tail. I would gladly have done any kind of frigging these guys wanted me to do with them in the way of fun and games -even have given up the diamonds. But when I saw how they hadn't even given poor Luke an even break, I knew that a triple hump in the hay wouldn't save me. From what I could overhear, they'd take what they wanted from me and my pussy by force, including the diamonds. Then I, Dee Dee Summers, would become Mississippi catfish food at only seventeen.
The thought made me swim harder. I had too much on men's balls as a female, there was too much living and thrilling fucking for me to do in the future. Then a beam of light shone through the night. They were using a powerful hunting lantern to scour the black surface of the water.
I began to reconsider the situation as I paddled. I couldn't outswim their outboard motor, and there was no point in exhausting myself until I sank. Since their spotting me was inevitable, I decided to let them get me and play possum. It would give me a little time to think. Something I'll bet these jerks didn't dream a young, well-titted blonde could do.
"Help, I'm drowning," I screamed and heard them turn the outboard toward me as the light picked out my blonde-haired pussy and then the rest of my naked, defenseless body in the water.