Chapter 2
He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and maneuvered the candy red sports car through the mid-afternoon traffic wondering who the little girl was.
How could this happen to me? Gordon asked himself. He sunk low in the driver's seat, his eyes almost level with the dash board. For drivers coming the opposite way, it appeared as if the sports car had no driver and several swerved instinctively, sounding their horns to show their displeasure.
Gordon was barely aware of the noise. It was a bizarre situation. Nothing like it had happened to him before. What made young girls act so frolicsome and carefree? It was bad enough that this perfect girl was cavorting around in the backyard of a woman's house without any clothes on. But she was actually fingering her young pussy. He had watched it himself. And now driving down the boulevard, sunk deep down into the sports car seat, he could see her rump hunching up and down. There was nothing that could stop the girl. Her finger was jammed deep into the tiny folds of her pussy and she was rolling her hips, using the sleeve of her cunt against her finger. Gordon had stared over Margaret's hunching rear end out at the gamboling figure in the grass, her nudity showing the joy and innocence of youth. Margaret began to scream.
"Oh, I'm going to come. I'm going to come.. . come! COME!! ! "
Margaret's voice went off in the still room like a cannon shot. Her warm, soft cunt hole held his cock like a closed fist. Her butt, symmetrically perfect as a watermelon, jackhammered his cock.
Ohhhh! Margaret was a good fuck! The squeaking bed became music to his ears. Sweat poured from her skin and he watched the salty fluid trickle down her back, through the crack in her butt and down her trembling thighs.
His cock pounded and he thought his body was going to collapse against her tingling rump. Margaret worked his fuck pole like a finely tuned instrument. The wet, warm walls of her cunt sucked on the bulbous end like two lips sucking a ice cream through a straw.
There was nothing for Gordon to do what grab hold of her rocking thighs and fuck Margaret until she collapsed. And that's what he did. He went through one screaming orgasm after another. And yet all the time he was feeding dick into her chasm, he couldn't take his mind off the nymph in the backyard.
Now nearing the baseball field, Gordon gripped the wheel and groaned softly to himself. If only she had not held the baseball uniform, then he might be able to fool himself into believing that the nymph existed only in his mind. But the uniform had been a giveaway. The girl was real. And what was worse, she was on his baseball team. Ohhhh, he groaned. There was no shaking the girl from his thoughts. She was on the lawn playing with her pubes. She radiated a wonderful sexuality that excited him in way he had no control of. He imagined himself standing next to her telling the girl how naughty it was to run naked in public.
Then with no warning, he imagined something else. His tongue was jabbing between her quivering cunt lips while she kicked and screamed for help. Oh, it was terrible to ponder such things. Her little, half developed cunt was no match for his thundering fuck stick. He wouldn't fit into her no matter how careful he was or how much lubricant he used. Why even Margaret could barely take in his fuck pipe without first stretching out her labia.
But still he could lick her twat. His tongue was narrow at the end and got wider and wider going back until the raspy pink surface could cover her entire cunt mound!
"Stop it," he shouted to himself. "Get hold of yourself, man. Start playing with that jailbait and you're finished."
Staring out at the road, he saw a truck edging across the divider and he swung hard to the right almost careening into a Volkswagon full of teenagers.
Up ahead was the city park. The road elevated slightly and acres and acres of green grass spread out before him. It was a pretty place with fountains and recreational playthings and a swimming pool for the grownups and half a dozen baseball fields. But Gordon didn't see these things; his eyes stared down at the ball diamond where tiny figures dressed in gray uniforms were playing ball. Out there, somewhere, was a little girl with blonde hair, blue eyes and a sensual little body. "Which one?" he asked, swinging into the parking lot.
Only after he stopped, did Gordon notice the bulge in his crotch. His cock was hard again: hard as it had ever been.
Gordon Wilson had returned from Vietnam a war hero. It was at the height of the war in 1968 during the Tet offensive when the Viet Cong were threatening to take over the country and the US Marines picked Gordon to be a hero. He had been caught up in a fire fight near some village he could never pronounce and being too scared to run, Gordon had helped drag a few wounded Marines to safety.
For this he received a batch of medals and several commendations.
Gordon Wilson had returned home a war hero and he was looked upon with a mixture of awe and admiration by the towns people. They had all heard the story about Gordon rushing into battle to save his buddies.
But there were a few stories they never heard. Gordon had come out of the battle field tired and exhausted. He had a three day pass to Saigon. A little booze and some Saigon poontang would clean away the fatigue.
Gordon made the rounds of several gritty street bars, but the beer was terrible and the hookers were old and cynical. The drinks he bought that night had no effect on him. It was like drinking rancid water.
A hooker finally caught his eye and after paying the madam, Gordon found himself walking through a dark alley way back to a small, ill-lit room.
Gordon slowly unbuttoned his shirt while the girl watched inquisitively. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the prostitute was Chinese, not Vietnamese, and her teeth were straight and white. He unbelted his pants and lay down on the bed closing his eyes.
She sat down on the mattress, then curled around his crotch. Her small breasts pressed against his belly, the red tipped ends pulsating against his skin.
"What matter," she said. "Too much beer?"
What the fuck is she talking about, he murmured. Rising up on his elbows, Gordon looked down at the naked Chinese girl. In her small palm lay his limp cock.
He blinked twice. There was no sensation at all in his crotch. She ran her fingers along the flaccid foreskin trying to stir up some excitement by pulling on the bulbous end.
Nothing happened.
"No workee," the girl said.
Gordon broke out in a sweat. From the time he was thirteen years old when he had coaxed his best friend's older sister to lift her skirt behind the woodshed, he had been potent. Not once had his prick been soft as putty as it was now in the curled palm of this Chinese hooker.
His blood pounded in his temples, blinding his vision. It was hot and sweltering in the "hooch" and there was the movement of small insects and hungry rodents all around him. He was so scared he wanted to scream out.
What has happened to me, he cried inwardly. Shame flooded his brain. It washed over the traumatic events of war and violence, soaking into his sub-conscious until Gordon felt small and helpless. Behind the suffocating shame lay guilt and beyond that lay an infinite darkness that was death itself.
The girl pinched the circumcised penis tip and pulled his shaft straight up before Gordon's enormous, staring eyes. The girl looked into his eyes like a fortune teller staring into the tea leaves. He averted his eyes. He wanted to crawl up into a ball and die. Back at the hotel was his .45 automatic. His hands were shaking but he knew they were capable of holding the heavy gun and pulling the trigger. He shivered again.
"You rest," said the Chinese girl. She climbed through his crotch and rested her cherry size nipples on his heaving chest. She wiped the sweat from his brow with her dainty fingers, and when he turned his head, he saw her fingers held a neatly rolled marijuana cigarette.
"Smokee," she said. "Very good. I can help you, GI."
He took the joint and inhaled the acrid smoke deep into his lungs as she lit the end. He didn't normally smoke grass, but the Chinese hooker was being nice and for some reason he trusted her. The Americans had helped the Chinese people living in Saigon. They were the only people over here who treat us decent, he thought, smoking the joint. His head began to reel and he lay back, not fighting the effect of the grass as music and sounds of the street and the hot stink surrounding Saigon swirled in his mind.
He must have dozed off because he woke up to a dark room. He tried to move and couldn't. His arms and legs were useless appendages. He twisted his head. The oppressive heat covered him in its humid warmth. He realized the girl had slipped some drug in with the marijuana. Because he could feel his whole body as he lay on the bed with enormous sensitivity. He just couldn't move a muscle. Paralyzed yet terribly aware, he thought, viewing his condition. Amazing.
The girl suddenly appeared through the doorway and she was not alone. Toddling along with her were two giggling girls, the oldest being perhaps fourteen. They were giggling at his naked body and he cursed the girl for bringing the kids in. The bitch, he thought.
When my strength returns, I'll kill her.
Then the older girl did a funny thing. She moved between his legs and gripped his cock with both hands.
Gordon watched too astonished to say anything. My goodness! he gasped, as her tiny fingers ran up and down his wrinkled foreskin. The blood was pounding in his temples again, but his cock was flickering. Her tiny fingers tickled and teased the sensitive skin.
Gordon looked up helplessly as the little girl fitted the end of his floppy cock into the warm hole of her mouth and gently sucked on the fast hardening end.
"Likeee," said the Chinese hooker, a smile beaming on her lips.
Gordon didn't know what to say. His cock was growing harder and stronger by the second. His wrinkled scrotum, once drawn up tight as a drum was all puffed out and swollen. It felt soooo gooood! Her tiny, childish lips made slurping sound against his penis. Her big round eyes looked up at him for approval and he could only nod for her to continue.
You're a bastard, he thought. That girl is barely a teenager. Indeed, her breasts were so small that the ends just barely peaked through the pink, cotton blouse. The Chinese girl was thin as a reed and her long black hair was cut in bangs across her forehead and hung in pigtails down her back. The little top covering her tiny body was like those all school girls wore to school.
The older woman just watched approvingly and Gordon wondered if this could be the mother. What a sickening thought. His stomach tightened up in a knot and he groaned to himself. That a mother would allow such a thing seemed intolerable. The little girl's teeth tugged gently at the knotty end of his penis sending a ripple of pleasure up along his spine.
He was strong and hard and nothing had ever felt so fantastic. He groaned again closing his eyes as the little girl crawled up into his crotch.
"Likee," said the mother. She bowed at the waist, a smile of accomplishment crossing her lips. She had lived in Saigon a long time, through twenty five years of war, and she had learned about men and violence and the ways flesh could be tortured and excited and made happy.
The American was fighting back the desire which swept him up in its grasp like the raging sea swallowing up the tiny fishing boats that challenged the ocean. Gently she gripped the younger girl whose name was Yin to crawl up on the American's chest and lick his nipples. She would make this man strong and powerful again. She, Madam Sinn had done this many times. It was her power and knowledge of sex that brought the Americans back again and again. And this same knowledge of the sins of the flesh kept the Viet Cong from blowing up her prostitution parlor. War makes animals of us all, she mused as her young child Yin pulled off her dress and ascended the American's body. The madam felt a stirring between her finely shaped thighs. She too was excited by the raw red penis rising curving upwards in her older daughter's mouth. He was long and thick around as the bamboo pole. And the bloated sack hanging down from his cock was filled with the white hot seed of sex. Her daughter's mouth worked the end while her dainty fingers ran up and down the shaft. The blue veins lacing the erect penis were pulsating with blood. He is a man, the madam thought, her loins aching for his penis. But she would wait; the moment, afterall, belonged to Yin and Yang.
Gordon felt humiliated by the two girls crawling across him like baby primates in a zoo. Sensation returned to his hands, but his arms were still weak from the drug-filled joint and he was forced to lay back as the two Chinks licked and sucked and jerked him off.
Yin giggled as she rubbed her chest. But her mouth was deadly serious as her wet tongue lashed out teasing Gordon's nipples. He couldn't deny how warm and excited he was. His cock was bloated twice normal size. Only a super human effort could stop him from jizzing down her throat.
But he couldn't hold out for long. Little Yin's naked rump was facing his mouth. Her butt was far from plump; but the graceful way her two buns curved down into her slender thighs was a sensation. As she raised up on her knees he looked through her crack at the hairless pubes underneath. His dry mouth was suddenly wet. Gordon cleared his throat. Yin's mouth was teasing the hell out of his tits and that other sister was jerking the end of his cock until he wanted to scream. There was no sound in the room except the pounding of his heart and the sound of lips sucking and licking. Yin's little cunt looked so inviting that he couldn't take his eyes away. The pangs of guilt were nothing compared to the surge of lust raging through his flesh.
As if reading his mind, Yin arched her rump backwards, and Gordon finding the strength to raise his chin buried his face between her soft cheeks and found that hairless twat with his tongue.
"Hmmmmmm!" the girl groaned.
He was surprised by the Chink. Surprised that a girl so young would find him, an American old enough to be her daddy, to be exciting. Gordon was surprised at how wet that hairless cunt slit was. His tongue slithered back and forth, tasting the viscous fluid seeping from her slit. Her buns wiggled against his face, but his tongue licked at her twat, finding the clitoris wedged high in the folds of her labia, teasing her the way his cock might do before thrusting into her hole.
"Aaaaahhhhhh!! " she gasped.
He felt like joining her. It seemed incredible. If he had tried the same thing back home in his small town, the Sheriff might lynch him right on the spot. And Gordon might not blame him. But it seemed all right in Saigon. It was different here.
He might hate himself later, but more than anything he wanted to fuck this little girl whose miniature cunt and slender buttocks held him captive. Oh, if that could only be, then nothing would bother him in this world again. He could walk away from this wretched straw shack wedged in the crooked alley way where disease and death and violence were every day occurrences and feel free. He could walk away, step on a Clamore and not care a bit as the steel ball bearing shredded his flesh. Because he would die a happy, satisfied man.
But Gordon didn't die. Instead, Yin rocked her pussy back and forth across his tongue. Her cunt lips grew all soft and mushy. Its sudden movement made Gordon lurch forward. His tongue went rigid, forming a wedge shape, and surged forward into her cunt. Yin's buttocks snapped around his nose imprisoning his tongue in her cunt. Then she rocked slowly. Her moaning, sing-song voice was hypnotic, the pungent smell of her loins overwhelming. His balls pounded, his cock flickered and Gordon was momentarily stunned by the raw, pungent flesh clutching his face.
At the other end, Yang lifted her mouth from his penis and under her mother's coaxing swiveled on his crotch. She was small and hairless between her legs like her sister. And her cunt hole was virgin. The thick, humid air swirled up under her trembling thighs, back through her ass slit causing the pink, wrinkled sphincter to ache.
She looked at the horrible thick pipe sticking up from the bush of black, coarse pubic hair and her muscles refused to budge. Despite the urgent whispering of her mother, Yang could not bring herself to squat down on the penis. Even as the skin shone from the layer of spit so tenderly applied with her tongue, Yang could not. Her mother would beat her furiously, but she had been beaten before.
"Do not disgrace me," her mother snapped.
"But he is so large, he will hurt me. Hurt me worse than a thousand beatings wise mother. I cannot."
A sharp, stabbing pain made Yang scream. She snapped her head and looked with horror at the bamboo staff her mother held in her curled finger. The round black eyes stared at Yang with such luminescent force that she almost fainted.
Yang watched as her mother removed her short mini shirt and holding the stick firmly under her cunt began to lower herself. Yang gasped. It was not possible. And yet her mother was doing just that. She was taking the huge pole up into her cunt hole. It went up and up and up. The great length of pole sank into the black passion void that was her mother's cunt; it was met by a low moaning sound, a noise filled with pain and passion; a sound that prickled Yang skin.
Quickly Yang squatted down on the erect cock. The rounded head fit snuggly between her pussy lips and squatting lower, the shaft went in nice and easy.
"Ahhhhhhhh! Sooooo goooood!" cried the American.
Yang turned and imitated the rhythmic hunching of her mother. The penis went up into her cunt channel with a squeaking sound. The shaft went deep into her narrow little channel. So deep that she cried out in fear as her flesh stretched out before the penetrating wedge-shaped head of his cock.
Wet from her mouth and lubricated by twat juice, Gordon's prick drilled the girl's little hole. She was in a half squat, her clear, white skin drawn tight around her mouth and lips as the cock head pressed against her hymen. The pain was intolerable. She knew about this evil skin flap that prevented a man from experiencing her fully. It was going to hurt, but she was squeezing her thighs and forcing her rump downwards and her hymen was going to burst open. One way or another, he was going in all the way.
Gordon was so excited he didn't know what to do. The girl's cunt was pushing his hard-on back into his crotch. And he felt angry and hot and guilty all at once. Thrusting his tongue upwards, he felt Yin spread lips of her cunt around his face. His face was soaked from her fuck juices. The electricity churned up in his balls made a beeline up his body and out through his tongue into her hole. Yin recoiled as passion reamed her twat.
Ohhhhhh it was soooo wonderful! His emotions were doing a balancing act on the head of a pin. Even the soft plunge of pussy that enveloped his shaft as Yang's hymen popped open could barely raise surprise in Gordon.
Quite suddenly his strength returned to his arms and legs. Licking the last drops of moisture from Yin's hole, he pulled her butt cheeks off his face and sat up. Yang had squatted down on his cocked legs straddling her crotch. Tears of pain and joy streaked down her flat face. They formed rivulets that streamed across her plump, brown colored nipples and trickled into her crotch where the trunk of his cock protruded.
He saw his giant pole wedged in her hole, rolled his hips as warmth and passion and lust swelled his muscles and gasped out loud.
"It's insane," he shouted. Quickly his fingers found Yang's small breasts. When she giggled at him, Gordon became angered and he pulled her tiny torso down on his and lay back on the bed.
"Fuck me, fuck me, you little cunt!" he ordered.
Now he had her and was fucking her this jailbait and nothing short of death would stop him from coming in her cunt. He gripped her butt cheeks and forced her hips to undulate against his shaft. Yang was screaming in Chinese but he didn't give two fucks. Over he rolled, splaying her legs wide while his cock filled her hole like a foot stuck in a sock.
"Aaaaahhhh!! ! " he groaned. He rammed fucked her again and again until he was drained and tired. His balls ached with sperm. His shaft was throbbing with blood, the glans pulsating, ready. Ready to fuck!
"In!" he roared. His hips flashed forward, the tiny child's hips popped up and he exploded. Thick, hot sperm shot from the end of his cock down into the tortured, bloody channel of her fuck hole.
Yang shrieked. Her hips flailed about helplessly. The raw, painful flesh between her legs was all wet and warm from the thick cream spurting up inside. Her tiny nipples pulsated like tiny red stop lights. And the bed groaned underneath her back as the American's heavy, heaving, hairy chest pressed her down into the mattress.
It was humid, hot and wet as a shower room and Yang couldn't breathe and she was frantic because this club buried in her womb was turning her loins on fire. Twisting was impossible. She could only lay back and receive.
Though too young to realize what domination was, Yang instinctively followed Gordon's wishes. Her body became a warm, supple glove in which to thrust and fuck and come. And that he did. His jizz drained out his pecker in long, sticky strains until the girl's tiny socket could hold not another drop. Then he pulled free and ran his spurting shaft up along her sweltering body and jammed the throbbing end through Yang's lips. He found her throat in one sudden thrust. Her tongue licked furiously, curling around the wrinkled foreskin while her throat gulped down his sperm.
It was good every glorious second. And when he at last fell exhausted to the bed, Gordon wondered if anything would ever feel so good again.
He turned his head and there in the corner was the young mother. She was stripped bare of her clothing and Gordon saw her skin was jiggling like jell-o in a dish. Her lips strained to stifle the scream lodged on the tip of her tongue. And following a patch down through her small tits and along the hollows of her waist and along the tight sheet of muscles leading to her cunt. She was a beautiful, vibrant being, the bad light reflecting off her sweat coated skin, shimmering like glass. Down further, jammed into the tufted ball of hair, lodged the joy stick. His eyes watched the enormous wand gliding into her pussy and he was amazed.
She's masturbating, he thought. Incredible, but true, the prostitute was driving the dildo device into her cunt, fucking her open, puffy hole with swift, powerful strokes.
Her children were giggling and fumbling with Gordon's limp cock, their tender mouths sucking the bulbous end.
My goodness! he exclaimed, surprised at the silly sound of his own words. The girls were urging him on, their voice grunting as their arms reached to push him over. Gordon realized that the lovemaking their mother had taught them was not over yet. He rolled over, craning his neck so he could watch the woman climax. She was ready. Her thighs trembled unsteadily as her hands were driving the stick into her pussy like a piston.
"Aaaaaa!! " she gasped at length. She writhed against the walls. Her breasts shook uncontrollably. In went the stick a final last time and then she slumped down to the floor, falling on her back while her hand still held the mating club.
"This is crazy," he thought. But it was not a dream. For the dreams do not knead the flesh and push and pull at your legs. Nothing in his imagination could produce this torrid scene of lust and depravity. He did not speak a word of her sing song language, but watching her squirm on the dirt, her back arched like a bow while the dildo impaled her could not be erased from his mind.
So engrossed was Gordon, that he turned to realize Yin and Yang had managed to push him over on his belly. He looked back and saw Yin's pubes staring through the slit in her bent buttocks as she knelt at his side.
No man in his right mind would let a thing like this happen, he told himself. Then in the middle of his self deprecation, he felt a twinge of pain shot through his backsides.
"What the . . . " he began, but already it was too late to stop the girls. Yang was dipping her face between his butt cheeks and her tongue was out teasing and licking.
The warm, raspy surface lapped greedily at his ass hole making Gordon groan. He pounded his fist on the bed groaning with desire, and racked with grief.
Her tongue slurped against his asshole, going back and forth in just the way his tongue had licked Yin's tender pubes. Over and around her tongue went, working his butt like a paint brush until he was coated with her wetness.
And there was nothing Gordon could do now except enjoy the secret pleasures of a little girl's mouth and remember how good the clean socket hole cunt had felt sucking his sperm.
The baseball field was velvet green and the girls, dressed in their drab uniforms looked like hefty pieces of lint covering a green background.
He pulled the car behind the batters cage and stuck a fresh cigarette between his teeth. It was sunny and humid, not un-like those days in Saigon so many years ago. But of course times had changed. The girls out there, he mused were nothing like those giggling young waifs that sold their bodies for a crust of bread or a few bartered cigarettes.
He hefted his pants which hung low on his hips as he stood over the dugout. Pulling a clipboard from the wall, he looked down the list of names.
Which one, he thought. Which one was in the backyard squatting over her hand. His blood pounded in his temples again. Fuck it, he thought. This was not the time to dream about some young chickie who liked scratching her twat. Gordon needed money and he had a job to do, an awesome job. In the span of a few short weeks he had to turn these squirrelly little cock teasers into a little league team.
He pushed his baseball hat back on his brow. And not just any old team; he had to have a winner. His contract didn't say as much, but if he wanted steady work, then that was what his bosses expected of him.
Gordon spit his chewing gum on the grass. Fucking parents are more hotheaded when it comes to little league than the kids are. It was too damn bad that kid's games couldn't be left in the hands of the kids.
But then he wasn't getting paid to be a philosopher. His salary was not being forked over to make them happy, but to get results.
Gordon spit again and he started to walk towards the field when he heard a girl's voice behind him say, "Sorry I'm late Mr. Wilson." Gordon turned around and found himself staring into Sherry Jackson's pretty blue eyes. Her face was all covered with sweat and her strawberry blonde hair stuck out from under her baseball cap.
He looked at her face, puzzled. "Get out on the field," he said. Then as an after thought added, "Where have you been anyway?"
"Changing my uniform."
He watched her buttocks moving up and down like ball bearings as she ran to the outfield to fuck fly balls. And suddenly he felt weak and shaky inside.
Because he could never forget that movement. Not ever.