The Eager Baby-Sitter

The weeks dragged slowly by after that last quickie encounter with Betty. Sometimes it seemed to George that perhaps Alice and Fred would never go out at night again and call in the young girl next door to baby-sit. Several times he saw Betty either going out on, or coming home from, a date with some boy her own age. On these occasions poor old George was racked with pangs of jealousy and deep-seated feelings of sexual insecurity. It was horribly frustrating for him, largely because he was so completely powerless to do anything about it. If he were financially independent he could afford to meet her away from his daughter's house and they could shack up for their sex parties in some out-of-the-way motel. Such a thought was far beyond his fiscal means since he was hard pressed to meet even his minimal personal needs such as cigarettes and a few occasional beers or pack of razor blades out of the tiny pittance his daughter squeezed out of her household budget and slipped to him, much against her husband's wishes. It was a living hell to be middle-aged of body while still young at heart. And to be poor of pocket at the same time. It was a hopeless sociological maze in which a growing number of working Americans found themselves with each passing year. The overwhelming preponderance of youth in the labor market forced these men, at the very peak of their productive capability, to be put out to pasture years before they had built a proper retirement nest egg. Students of the economic trend forecast that, in time, this would force the Social Security age down to fifty-five, then fifty and eventually to as low as forty-five or even forty. Unfortunately, for George Ross and his contemporaries this wouldn't happen in time to be of any help to them. Their hard-earned training and technological genius had led their country to victory in two major wars and shown it how to put a man on the moon. The national sense of security and position of scientific leadership which their efforts had created now made these same efforts obsolete in a society newly dedicated to political and social reforms and a concentration on ecology. Like the legendary General Douglas MacArthur and so many other battle-scarred old soldiers who had manned the front lines in the long battle for democracy; now that this battle was past and won, the home front which they had secured dismissed them with the sweep of a Congressional magic wand. Now that the value of their services had passed they weren't doomed to die: but to the far more cruel fate of just being asked to fade away. As a young man, George had spent six years at Stanford earning his degrees of Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering and Master of Science in Aeronautical Engineering. In the twenty years that followed he became one of the leading aerodynamicists in the airframe and aerospace industries. In the current administration, advanced aircraft and space programs have been scrapped and men like George have been tossed on the human scrap heap along with them. Today, in their mid-forties, these men find themselves at that awkward age: ten years too old to find gainful employment and twenty years too young to collect Social Security. The current emphasis in big business is upon youth. George and his contemporaries often discussed this and felt that there were two principal reasons for the attitude on the part of employers. Firstly, any business had to cater to its customers. There were more potential customers between twenty and thirty than in all other age groups combined. It makes good sense to employ those to whom you sell. Secondly, since employer-sponsored life and health insurance has become almost universal, the insurance companies that write these policies are playing an increasingly heavy role in dictating hiring codes. Many major companies insist upon a medical examination as part of the review of a prospective employee's qualifications. While age, as such, is seldom given as a cause for rejection, any thinking man soon realizes that few men in their twenties and thirties have fatal heart attacks, strokes or major crippling disabilities. Such major losses for the insurance companies reach their peak while the policyholders are in their forties and fifties. By rejecting those in this high-risk age group they minimize their losses and thus increase their profits. Most men in this age bracket tend to be a little obese, or to have slightly higher-than-normal blood pressure or less than 20-20 eyesight or perfect hearing. Any of these failings has become a cause for medical rejection by an employer

Periodically, George had tried straight commission selling jobs. Like insurance or real estate. He probably could have made a go of one of them in time but, pathetically, he didn't have sufficient "walking around money" to subsidize such minimal expenses as bus fare, telephone calls and postage. Unlike some of his friends, he couldn't qualify for federal, state or county financial assistance because his daughter had offered to support him by offering him room and board and the minimum requirements to support human life. George often wished that she hadn't been so generous as to volunteer. His friends who lacked such a sponsor lived in comparative luxury in nice hotels, eating good meals in restaurants and getting enough of a relief check each month to hold their heads high and to enjoy at least some of the creature comforts of life.

At long last, a ray of sunshine fell upon his dreary lot in life. Fred came home one night elated over the fact that he had been selected as one of twenty top men throughout the country to train for major promotions within the company. These men, and their wives, were to spend three weeks in special executive training at the company headquarters in Chicago. Although all expenses were paid, it meant cleaning out their bank account for proper clothes and luggage with which to arrive. Alice was proud of old George because she felt that he was so happy for his son-in-law for having been given this opportunity. She had no way of knowing that George's happiness had to do with quite a different type of opportunity which the trip afforded him.

It was arranged that Betty would spend most of the day and evening at the Hugheses' house taking care of little Jimmy, feeding and bathing him but that when he got safely to sleep at night she was to return to her home and George would take over. Fred and Alice agreed that it wouldn't look right for the young girl to spend late night hours alone in the house with a man who wasn't a blood relative. George could hardly keep from laughing at their square attitude. After all, he knew Betty far more intimately than any of her blood relatives. She had shed her virginal blood for him.

Finally, the happy day for all of them arrived. George drove Alice and Fred to the airport and then brought the car back to the house. Betty was waiting for him when he let himself in. She had acquired a sexy-looking negligee somewhere and floated around the house in this near-transparent garment like a nymphet child bride. The sight of her lush young body through the gauzelike material had only one effect upon George-instant hard-on. by six o'clock, Betty tucked little Jimmy into his bed. Five minutes later, George tucked Betty into his bed and joined her between the sheets. Her body seemed somehow to have matured since their last sex session. Her beautiful tits seemed even larger than before. George wondered if any of those young dates he had observed had been massaging and chewing on them to make them grow. He sucked the crimson nipples to swollen erection and then burrowed his head into her hairy crotch and down into the pink valley at the bottom of the pubic forest.

Their long separation had made his need and craving for her reach a fever-pitch. Now he wondered if he could keep his roaring hard-on under control so that it wouldn't shoot its overfull load before he even got it into her. He crawled on top of the girl and she spread her thighs anxiously and raised her knees to make the entry easier for him. She grabbed the throbbing turgid staff and guided it to her moist slit. The virginal tightness seemed a thing of the past now and his thick hot meat slid easily into her in a single stroke. She seemed even hotter than he was and began immediately to fuck him with the wild abandon of a bitch wolf in mating season. The springs squeaked and the bed rocked with the violence of their sexual attack upon one another. There was no reason to try to keep quiet now and Betty started almost shouting, "Fuck me, daddy, give me all of that big cock of yours. I want to feel you cramming and stuffing my cunt so tight that you split me right in two and then you'll shoot out that wonderful white glue of yours that will put me back together again. C'mon, sock it to me, George. Ram that big beautiful prick of yours clear into my belly. I want to feel you come in my cunt, or do anything you want to, just so you do it in my cunt. Oh, God, how I've missed and needed that hot cock of yours. Fuck me!"

It was like fucking a wildcat the way Betty thrashed around in that bed and threw her pussy up to meet his every stroke so strongly that she lifted her ass clear off the mattress. There was nothing passive about this long-awaited session. The very violence of their attack upon each other's sex centers caused the storm of passion to blow itself out quickly. Their overfilled floodgates burst at almost the same moment and the spillways poured the frothy contents into and upon one another's sex organs as they collapsed in total exhaustion from the ferocity of the hurricane of passion and the overwhelming force of the tidal wave of their outpourings which was only now beginning to ebb.

Later, George wanted to go down and eat her pussy but Betty said that the violence of their fucking had left her crotch so sore that she doubted that she would be able to touch it with a powder puff. This fact in no way dampened her ardor for his sex and soon she was nestled between his thighs taking the limp cock in her mouth and treating it to the most wondrous oral massage. Her tongue flicked at it like a Water-Pik cleaning your teeth while her lips and gums made like a Jacuzzi bath until the limp member was far from limp. She had no trouble getting every bit of it in her mouth and throat now and began taking full length strokes from the very tip of the glans to the point where the big vein along the bottom disappeared into his hairy balls. Her lips made tender demands while her finger tips encouraged his balls to disgorge their contents as she tongued and licked and sucked and gum-pumped the full length of his swollen cock, treating it to the most ecstatic torture while she made little moans and grunts through her nostrils as though begging for the sweet meats of his sex nuts. Her mouth became a powerful vacuum pump and before long George felt the eruption start beneath his big toenails and flood upwards until the head of his cock swelled in her throat like a puff-adder and then spewed its venereal venom in jet after jet of hot jism which she swallowed avidly, as though life itself depended upon her ingestion of his liquid cream.

After she returned to her house, George enjoyed the best night's sleep that he had had in weeks. Lately, insomnia had been troubling him. Now he realized that there are few physical problems of middle age that don't respond positively to copious treatments of youthful sex.

During the next few days and nights, George and Betty had a chance to get well acquainted socially as well as physically. She confessed to him that her penchant for older men was an outgrowth of a girlhood crush on her Uncle Bob; a love which was totally unrequited. She went on to say how happy she was that she had waited for an experienced older lover to initiate and train her in the art of sex. In time, she got to the real point of her conversation on the subject.

"George, I don't quite know how to approach this and I hope you won't misunderstand or be angry with me for having let a little secret out of the bag. You see, I have these three really close girl friends. Ever since we've been in grammar school we've told each other everything. Things we wouldn't dare tell our parents. There are absolutely no secrets between us and none of us would violate the other's trust so we feel that we can safely confess our innermost secrets to each other. Anyway, what I'm getting at is that I told these girls about you and how great you were at leading me into a mature sex life."

"My God, Betty. Do you realize that you could've been talking me right into prison. If one of those kids would've told her mother about you and I, I'd be in the steel chateau tomorrow."

"Don't sweat it. They'll never tell a soul. I think in a moment when you hear the rest of the story, you'll even be glad that I told them about us."

"I doubt that very much, but go on," George urged, anxious to see just how deep she had gotten him involved.

"Well, it's like this. I have them thoroughly convinced that it is best to get your sex training from an older man. They all agree but none of them knows any older man that they could even approach on this subject. They're very envious of me for having you as my sex instructor. I'm the type of girl that likes to share the good things in life with my friends. At least with my closest friends. Well, what I'm trying to say is that the girls would like to meet you and wonder if you'd be willing to train them in the ways of sex just as you've trained me."

George Ross could hardly believe his ears. He was the most fortunate of "Dirty Old Men" to have a fifteen-year-old paramour but now she was offering to procure three more nymphets for his sex stable.

Yeah, verily, George thought to himself, my cup does indeed runneth over.

"What do you say?" Betty urged him out of his daydreaming.

"I really don't know. I'm still in shock," George explained. "Perhaps you'd better tell me a little bit more about them before I commit myself."

"Well, let's see now. One of the hardest things for me to do has always been to describe one good friend to another, without doing them both an injustice. All three girls are from good families and are, I think, quite attractive. That is, they aren't little tubs of lard but have cute figures, well developed for their ages. Margo and Sally are both sixteen. They are brunettes, about five foot two. Both of them are virgins. Cathy is fifteen and a blonde with rather large breasts for a fifteen-year-old. She is about five foot and looks even older than the other girls, even though she's a year younger."

"Is she a virgin, also?" George interrupted.

"She isn't sure," Betty answered innocently.

"What the hell do you mean, she isn't sure. Who's in a better position than her to know?" George fairly exploded. Perhaps he didn't understand the younger generation as well as he thought he did. Remarks like this still threw him for a loss.

"Like I told you these girls are innocent and inexperienced. That's why they need you. Oh, hell, they know the facts of life. They know all about the birds and the bees and the butterflies and the pollen and all that high school biology happy horseshit. They know that babies are made by a man shoving his cock in a woman's cunt and cuming in it, at certain times of the month. When it comes to practical knowledge, they don't know shit from Shinola. That's why they need your help, George; just as I did."

"I understand, my dear, and I am more than willing to help but that still doesn't explain this young girl's remark that she doesn't know whether or not she's a virgin."

"Well, I can only tell it to you the way she told it to me. Cathy has been going steady with this boy for about six months now. Every time he could borrow his folks' car they'd park and have a hot necking session. One thing led to another and soon he started taking out his cock and having her jerk him off while he finger-fucked her. I've never understood what great thrill boys get out of playing stink-finger with a girl. I guess it's just that they feel they are doing something they shouldn't. Well, anyway, after a month or so of masturbating each other they graduated to going down on each other. Cathy says she enjoyed sucking him off but that when he went down and licked her pussy it just frustrated her because he got her all excited but nothing ever happened. Afterwards, she'd have to go home and finger her clit to get relief from her pent-up emotions. Then, she says, there was this night that he became insistent upon putting it in her. She stroked him and sucked him but still he wanted to get it inside of her. She thought she was in love with him and was afraid that she might lose him if she refused, so finally she spread her legs and he crawled between them. He was terribly excited by now and Cathy was very frightened. She remembers him working the burning tip of his cock into the lips of her vagina and then lunging forward into her. She says she felt several sharp pains but then, suddenly, he spewed his spunk but it was all out at the mouth of her cunt. She thinks that he blew his load before he broke through her hymen. In that case, even though she's had a prick cum in her pussy, she's still technically a virgin because her hymen is intact. Now, do you understand her remark about not being sure?"

Just listening to this third hand account of a juvenile sex experience had given George a throbbing thunker. He hadn't even met this young broad, Cathy, but already he had developed a crotch twitch over her. The very idea of a man his age being invited to deflower a covey of virgins in their teens made him feel like a character out of Arabian Nights.

Betty could see that his curiosity was piqued but that he was still a little reticent about getting sexually involved with a whole quartet of teen-age girls. That much juvenile quim could easily pussy-whip a man George's age. If she wanted him to bring her anxious girl friends in on a good deal, she would have to play it cool.

"I can see that you are undecided, George. I understand your worries. I know these girls, you don't. I'm not being fair in asking you to buy a pig in a poke. How can you judge people you've never even met. These girls have some money. Perhaps, we should have a get-acquainted party tomorrow night. After you have come to know them as I do, then you can make your decision as to whether or not you want to lead them into womanhood. They'll bring a big bottle of wine and a large pizza pie. I'll bring them with me and you can get acquainted with one another. I'm sure you will like them and want to help them. That can't do any harm, can it?" she asked plaintively.

"I suppose not," George agreed. Actually, he was enthralled with the idea of possibly becoming involved in a teen-age orgy but he was plagued with the conservatism of middle age and the fear of losing his happy home, such as it was.

"Fine, then it's settled. Now you'd better get to bed and have a good night's rest. I have a hunch you're going to need it. I'll bring the girls over around six tomorrow."

Before George could think of a comment to make, she had kissed him and left. He made his way to his little room off the kitchen. His mind was spinning. Was he really up to handling all this action? He had already proven to himself that even at this stage of life, he could handle one sex; young nymphet-but four of them was quite another story. His sex life was on the crap table. If he didn't make the point on the back line he was quite likely to lose what he had already won on the front line. Betty was quite a sex prize all by herself. She was more than he had ever dreamed of having a few scant months before. The idea of parlaying his winnings in the sex sweepstakes up on a four-to-one basis was, of course, pretty tempting. Few men on the downhill side of their sex lives could resist such a temptation. On the conservative side of the talisman, Betty provided him with as much sex as he could hope to handle. She was pretty prime stuff. Would he be a complete and utter fool to gamble away his present position as a sexual gourmet for the potential role of a sexual gourmand?

"It surely won't hurt just to meet them," Betty repeated with typical feminine logic.

"No, I suppose not," George said.

"Fine. Now you get a good night's rest and I'll bring your new pupils over to meet their old professor at around six tomorrow evening."

George thought that he had actually heard her say this. Soon he realized that the logical argument had existed only in his mind since Betty had left him several minutes earlier. Maybe he was going out of his mind, but one way or the other, he was now committed.

George fell into a fitful sleep, filled with wild dreams. He saw himself as a sylvan satyr.

The next night, a little after six, Betty arrived with her three friends. The girls looked so terribly young in their sweaters and skirts and saddle shoes. They looked like mere children. Soon they were sharing a gallon bottle of vin rose and a huge pizza pie. Everyone seemed ill at ease and George was sure that this entire scene was a big mistake. Betty looked back and forth amongst them and seemed to be laughing to herself.

"I'm afraid that my friend, George, thinks you look awfully young. Maybe he's worried that you'll try to sell him Girl Scout cookies. He doesn't understand that we dress 'little girl like' on purpose so that our folks won't realize how grown up we are when we go out at night. Perhaps the best way to make him realize how mature you are is to turn this into a nudist party. So, off with the girlish buttons and bows and on with the womanly buttocks and boobs!"

Before George could offer a word of protest-not that he was about to-the four young girls began to shed their clothing. Within minutes it was raining sweaters, skirts, bras and panties. Old George's bulging eyes darted around the room like a kid trying to keep up with all the acts at a three ring circus.

A nameless Madison Avenue philosopher in a gray flannel suit once said, "Clothes Make the Man." Any patron of the popular topless and bottomless cocktail lounges will tell you that "Absence of Clothes Makes the Woman." There is no faster or surer way for an adolescent girl to be treated as a woman, rather than a child, than to simply remove her clothing and display her mature body.

George began to drool at both ends as he feasted his eyes on the sexual smorgasbord that was spread with such appetizing goodies before him. On every side he was tempted by firm young tits, well-rounded asses and unbelievably hairy cunts. A scant few minutes before he felt like an old fart surrounded by little girls. Now, suddenly, he was a powerful cocksman surrounded by sexy, eager women. At first he was haunted by the thought that he was nothing more than a lecherous old man who suddenly found himself in the garden of the young virgins.

"C'mon, George. Either you take your clothes off, too, or the girls will put theirs back on. Don't be afraid, they won't bite you," Betty chided the older man.

George complied immediately. He couldn't take his eyes off of these three lovely new virgins who had come to him for deflowering and proper sex instruction. They may have had the faces of children but they surely had the bodies of women. They were ripe for fucking and sucking and all those good things. From all appearances they had been ready for several years. Suddenly, he thought of what he had learned in sociology classes at Stanford, many years before. There are many primitive cultures and societies in which the young people are delivered to the elders of the opposite sex for deflowering and sexual indoctrination. He just hoped that they were entertaining no wild notions of his ability to service all three of them, plus taking care of Betty again, in this one evening. Sexy senior citizen he was-Superman he wasn't!

"Hurry and get your pants off, George," Betty urged him on. "Margo and Sally have never seen a real live penis close-up. They're about to cream in their jeans-if they were wearing any-in anticipation."

George unbuckled his belt and ran down the zipper of his fly. The girls eyes were wide and they seemed to be swallowing a lot more than necessary. He dropped his slacks and then looked down. His shorts looked like he was trying to smuggle a flagpole. He had a hard time getting the elastic waistband down over his swollen drooling dong. As it popped out and stood proudly erect a little gasp went up from the three young virgins. At the moment George wished that he had three cocks to offer them tonight. He paraded around the room letting each of his sex novitiates get a good look at what was in store for them. He wondered which of the lovely trio of nymphets would be the first to take his big hard hot cock between her legs and into her belly. He rather hoped that it might be little Cathy. The girl was taller than the others with huge tits that gave her the look of being top-heavy. There was no doubt that she was a natural blonde. An unbelievable growth of soft lush blonde hairs formed a mammoth triangle which rose from its apex in her crotch nearly up to her navel. George's twitching cock just throbbed to forage its way through that dense growth and explore the treasure trove of the love cave that lay hidden in the very center of that vulva verdure. He was, therefore, somewhat disappointed at Betty's proposed modus operandi.

"The way I suggest that we go about this training program is to have our new students observe before they attempt to participate, Tonight will, therefore, consist of a sex-orientation demonstration in which they'll merely be an audience to our sex acts. They will watch us engage in normal intercourse and also go down on each other. In this way they will know what to expect when it comes their turn in the saddle. Afterwards, they can ask us both questions and we can discuss the various aspects of their impending sex lives. I'm sponsoring these neophyte nymphets and have given a great deal of thought as to the best way to program their metamorphosis from the cocoon of girlhood into the beautiful winged butterfly state of mature womanhood. Does everyone agree that this constitutes a logical and practical approach to this specialized quest for knowledge?"

The girls nodded dumbly in acknowledging their agreement to any study curriculum proposed by a more experienced teacher. Reluctantly, George found himself going along with Betty's program. Normally speaking, he would have been delighted at the prospect of enjoying Betty's body again. Until she had mentioned her friends this had been the height of his sexual ambitions. Now that he was offered such a tempting menu of varied delicacies it became difficult to content himself on the same old bill of fare upon which he had feasted so often in the recent past. The thought occurred to him that it was strange indeed how quickly a man's sexual palate could become jaded by a simple threefold increase in the meat menu.

If the girls felt any disappointment at having their initial role reduced to that of mere voyeurs, their excitement at the prospect of the impending sex show soon outweighed such feelings.

"And, now, if the students are ready," Betty announced in professorial tones, "your instructors will proceed with the laboratory demonstrations of the principles involved."

As the young girls assembled around them in awed silence and gave their rapt attention, Betty fell to her knees in front of the standing George. She grasped his huge turgid cock and stroked it lightly back and forth and then allowed her hands to fall back to his balls while she proceeded to lick the trembling head and staff until the glans was well coated with the clear pre-coital sex fluids. Betty made sure that they all saw the sticky liquid that made the swollen mauve glans glisten in the lamplight. Then she opened her mouth and took the head of George's cock and another inch for good measure into her mouth. She sucked and licked at it for several seconds and then pulled away from it, making little appreciative noises as she indicated to the enraptured girls that the heavy clear coating was now gone.

For his part George felt like a keg of dynamite whose fuse was burning short. There is a limit to how much a stiff prick can stand and George was close to the breaking point. Everywhere he looked he be held firm young female flesh and lovely patches of tender virgin cunt hair. Even though it would constitute a criminal waste of natural resources, he felt that any moment now he was in danger of spewing his love cream before he had a chance to get inside any of these lush young bodies.

Betty, having backed her mouth off of his twitching staff of manhood, lay back flat on the rug in a spread-eagled position and held her arms up to beckon him to join her. The moist crimson valley of her secret sex slit gaped open invitingly for all to see.

"Come, George, this is what the girls came here to watch tonight so that they'll know how to do it with you later. Show them with it looks like when a real man who knows what he's doing fucks a willing young girl. Come down here and fuck me. Let them see that big beautiful prick of yours cram its way into my pussy and ram in and out until I cum and cum and cum and then you plant your sweet semen in the valley of the purple-headed giant."

No normal man who suddenly found himself the star of the show in front of such a delightful audience could resist the temptation to "ham it up" just a little. George placed his hands on his hips and thrust his hips forward so that his hot throbbing prick jutted forth proudly like the bowsprit on a sailing vessel. He turned from one side to the other to give all three of the breathless young girls the full view of his throbbing manhood as they watched in wild-eyed speechless awe. Then, taking the swollen shaft in his hand as the clear juices oozed from the slit in its throbbing tip, he sunk to his knees and leaned forward until the burning glans parted the soft lips of her gaping cunt. Slowly, he thrust forward and the girls gasped as inch after inch of the huge sex buried itself inside of Betty's hairy crotch until, at last, it had completely disappeared from view. For her part, Betty moaned in sheer ecstasy at the tender onslaught. The erotic sensitivities of her highly erogenous zones seemed tripled by the consciousness of the three pairs of admiring eyes of her peers.

George tried to make the show as exciting for them as possible by taking the longest strokes he dared in and out of her soft warm cunt. They had moved in close now and he pulled out so that they were treated to the view of the full length of his meat from balls to corona. Only the very tip of the head still remained inside Betty's pussy before he pressed back forward until he buried it all in her tender sex hole. His female audience was breathing heavily now and beginning to perspire. Two of them had buried their fingers in their own hairy sex centers as he continued to saw in and out of his young sex partner. He found that his own sexual sensitivities were heightened by his constant awareness of the three lovely voyeurs who watched his every stroke in silent admiration and erotic anticipation of the moment when they would be called from the audience to assume a center stage role in the sensuous performance.

"Fuck me, George, fuck me harder and deeper. I'm about to come. Oh, my God, I'm cuming all over your wonderful big prick in my cunt. Nowwwwww!" Betty moaned as she flailed her head back and forth and rolled her eyes back in their sockets.

"That's right, Betty. Give it to me. I want to feel your cunt cum to my cock," George encouraged her-and his audience.

Betty sobbed and moaned and groaned as the massive orgasm swept through her open loins. She was being more vocal about it than usual, apparently intent upon seeing that her performance was enhanced with a fully synchronized sound track. The two girls who were fingering their clits brought that activity to a feverish pace, obviously anxious to join their friend in her orgasmic relief.

"Cum to me, George. I want to feel you shoot in my cunt. Drain your balls deep in my palpitating pussy and flood my belly with your hot jism. Give it all to me! Show the girls how you put eight inches in there and only take three inches out. Give it to me, lover man. Fill my cunt with your heavy hot cream."

George was showing off now, fucking her hard and furiously as he pinned her ass so tightly to the floor that she could hardly raise her cunt to respond to his ferocious onslaught against her hairy crotch. The girls around them had almost ceased breathing now, except in little periodic asthmatic gasps.

"Here it is, Betty. I'm going to cum deep in your cunt and give it a creamy lover's douche. Feel it swelling way down inside there. In just a second I'll gush out all of my hot jism into your very womb. Here it comes!" he grunted in the final efforts of the climax of his intercourse.

Betty trembled and shuddered beneath him as though her cunt was the epicenter of an earthquake. She let out a little scream as she orgasmed at the very feel of the flood he was loosening deep down inside of her. One of the girls began to sob and moan and George realized that fucking in front of an audience this way increased the thrills for the performers as well as providing them for the viewers. This had to be the fuck of a lifetime and he thought that he would never stop cuming. It was like all of the bone and marrow in his body was melting and flowing out of his cock into the lovely young girl beneath him on the carpet in his daughter's house. When the delightful deluge of his discharge finally ceased he fell on top of Betty as limp as a dish rag, almost unaware of the sudden hubbub of conversation between the members of their select audience.

When he finally regained enough strength to climb off of the supine girl he displayed only a two-inch vestige of the proud eight-inch charger that he had crammed into her ten minutes earlier. The girls giggled nervously and rushed to Betty, suddenly mindful of his presence.

"Did it hurt?" Cathy asked Betty, excitedly.

"Well, if it did, I wish I could figure out a way to stay in that kind of pain forever," Betty said, smiling weakly at her friend.

"Could you really feel it when he came inside of you?" Margo asked as though the thought was inconceivable.

"Of course, silly. Can't you feel the soapy water flushing into your bowels when your mother gives you an enema? It's much the same," Betty explained patiently.

"I know that I said I wanted to try it," Sally spoke almost fearfully, "but I'm sure that it would be utterly impossible for anything as big as that thing of his to fit into a tiny little hole like mine."

"Don't worry, Sally, you'll have a chance to find out soon enough." Betty tried to calm her fears, "Think of it this way. Your rectum is so tight that sometimes you can't even work your little finger into it; yet, when you have to go, it stretches painlessly. Have you ever looked in the toilet bowl before you flushed it? Some of your bowel movements that have come comfortably out of that tight hole are even larger than George's cock. It is all a matter of elasticity. Your pussy works the same way, in reverse. As soon as you learn to relax the muscles and let it dilate naturally, you will find that you can accommodate any size male organ with little or no effort, or even consciousness of its size."

Margo and Betty then went to the kitchen to heat the pizza and pour the wine. George felt a little awkward left alone in the room with the two naked girls who kept staring at his shrunken pecker which now resembled a peanut more than a banana. Since he was momentarily embarrassed to look into their eager young faces, he let his gaze rest upon their pubic mounds. He could still not get over the heavy crops of cunt hair on these young girls. Suddenly, he noticed that it looked different from when he had first observed the beards on their pussies. Now the hairs seemed damp and matted. He was anxious to smell and taste those wet furry triangles but since Betty had set up this action he had best follow her timetable. He would die now if anything happened to abort the missions that he had in mind so he would restrain himself, sit back, and leave the countdown entirely up to the show's producer, Betty.

While they ate and drank Betty suggested that everyone might feel more at ease if they had a frank discussion group on the topic at hand-sex. She suggested that the girls ask questions in order to get the open conversation flowing. As usual in such situations, nobody wanted to be the first to speak. Finally Betty turned to Cathy, "Why don't you ask George a question about male sex. Any question at all that you've always wondered about. Then he will ask you a question in return about girl sex. That should get the ball rolling."

Cathy seemed to have a hard time phrasing her question. After several false starts she blushed attractively and fixed her attention on her toes, rather than on George as she asked him, "In sex education classes at school they talk a lot about young boys and masturbation and midnight emissions. I've wondered about this but never had the nerve to ask a boy about it. When you were our age, or younger, did you use to masturbate a lot and did you have wet dreams?"

"Why, of course, I did," George grinned at the attentive young faces. "All the guys did. Any man that tells you he never jerked-off or had wet dreams is either a saint or a liar, and you'd be amazed at how few saints we meet in this life. Would you like to hear about the first time I jacked off?"

The girls all nodded excitedly. He had their rapt attention now, like he was about to let them in on the deepest, darkest secrets of the life of the opposite sex.

"Well, I remember I was about twelve years old and I didn't even know that such a thing as sex existed. Although I never really thought much about it, I guess that I still believed that the stork brought babies. You see, we didn't have such a thing as sex education in those days and our parents wouldn't have thought of even mentioning the subject to us. Mothers were supposed to have 'that talk' with their daughters and fathers to have it with their sons but, for the most part, they were too embarrassed by the taboo subject to ever broach it. What little we ever learned, we kids had to learn from each other. It's too bad, too, because we all learned a lot of false knowledge that we had to unlearn in later years. Well, anyway, I remember I woke up late one night feeling like I had to pee something awful. I got out of bed and went, half-asleep, to the bathroom. I lifted the toilet seat and tried to pee but nothing happened. My little cock was all swollen and hard and standing straight out from my belly like it never had before. I figured that it was just because I had to pee so bad. I was afraid that when I did let go it would go all over the back of the toilet so I took it in my hand and tried to pull it down to aim it into the toilet bowl. It felt awfully good when I stroked it downward that way and I sensed that if I kept rubbing it back and forth it would finally start to let loose with the stream of pee. The harder I tried, the tighter it got but then it began to feel better and better as I stroked it up and down. It must have gone on for about ten minutes, feeling better all the time. I guess by then I couldn't have stopped even if I wanted to. Then finally it was as though something squeezed -the tip of my cock very tightly and then broke. The next thing I knew this heavy hot white stuff was shooting out instead of pee. It hurt at first, like a bowel movement when you're constipated and have to force it out. Then, towards the end, it felt real good. At first I was scared. I thought that I was sick and that something terrible was happening to me. My first inclination was to run to my parents and tell them what had happened. As soon as all of the heavy white stuff shot out, the swelling went down and I began to pee quite normally, except that it burned a little. By the time I finished taking my leak my pecker was hanging back in its normal limp manner and I didn't hurt any more so I went back to bed. By the next morning I had forgotten all about it so I didn't mention it to my folks."

"Was that the only time it happened to you?" Sally took up the questioning of the older man.

"Good heavens, no. A few nights later it happened again. This time it didn't scare me because I knew what to expect and how to cure it. I stroked it until it felt so good I couldn't stand it. It felt especially good when I tickled and rubbed this big vein down here." George lifted his limp cock and indicated the seminal discharge tube along the bottom length of his shaft. "When the heavy white stuff shot out tonight it hardly hurt at all and felt even better than it had the first time. Afterwards, I didn't even have to pee. I began to look forward to the next time it would get hard and I could do it again. Then, one day, I was taking a hot bath. I was washing my privates real good with soap when they started to get hard from the attention. When my cock was fully erect I stroked it with my soapy palm. This felt better than anything ever had before. I kept putting more soap on my hand and watched as I stroked it up and down under the warm water. The head stuck out above the water and soon it began to swell up to where it would seem it was about to burst. Then three separate jets of the heavy white stuff shot out. They must have gone over a foot in the air before they fell back into the bathwater. I remember thinking that if this was a disease I hoped they'd not found a cure for it."

The girls giggled not only at his remark but because just talking about it, his cock was beginning to expand and reerect.

"After that I began taking a hot bath every night. My folks thought that my hygiene classes in school were having a profound effect upon me. Actually it was just that I'd discovered what fun I could have in the tub with my own little cock."

"Did you relate this pleasure to girls?" Margo asked him.

"No, believe it or not, I didn't realize that it had any connection at all with the opposite sex. As far as I was concerned this was just a way that boys could enjoy themselves," he answered in simple honesty.

"Well, then, when did you first find out about girls?" Cathy asked, fully caught up in the intimate narrative now.

"It was almost a year after I first started playing with myself. I went to this girl's birthday party. There were about eight couples of kids there and we played party games like 'spin the bottle' and all that kid stuff where you wind up kissing. There was this one real pretty girl there that I'd never met before. She was well developed for her age and I got to kiss her five or six times. I'd never really kissed a girl that way before and about the third time I held her body close and kissed her I got this hard-on. She must have felt it and known what it was all about because the next couple of times when I kissed her she pressed her body up real tight to it and I thought I was going to shoot my load right in my party pants. That night I kept dreaming about her kisses and the feel of her soft warm body pressed up against my hard cock and I shot a load right there in bed. It was my first wet dream. I didn't dream that I actually had it inside of her, or anything like that. Even then the connection wasn't too clear."

"Then when did you really go all the way with a girl?" Sally asked.

"Oh, I remember that clearly enough. It was the summer just before my fifteenth birthday. My cousin, Emma, came to spend two months with us while her folks went to Europe. She's a year older than me and she was no virgin even then. Within a few days after she arrived we started having hot necking parties. Boy, but that girl could kiss? The minute her lips touched mine my cock popped up like a jack-in-the-box. Pretty soon she had me sucking her tits and she took out my cock and stroked it until I'd shoot off in her hand. Then she got me to run my. hand up her skirt and into her panties and play stink-finger with her. One day I did it and she didn't have on any panties. When she took out my stiff cock she turned up her skirts and pulled me down on top of her and started rubbing the head of my cock in her hairy gash. The next thing I knew it was inside of her and we were fucking. It felt infinitely better than my hand, or even hers. After that we screwed every day. When she had the rag on she'd go down and suck me off. Later she taught me to go down on her, but mostly we just fucked-fucked-fucked all summer."

"Did you still masturbate and have wet dreams?" Margo insisted on knowing.

"Are you kidding? Why drink beer with so much vintage booze right there at hand?" George laughed. "As for wet dreams, she didn't leave anything wet in my balls by bedtime every night."

George hadn't realized it but reliving those early days of his sex life had given him a roaring hard-on. Now, as he got up and crossed to the table to refill his wine glass the young girls all giggled excitedly. On his way back to his seat he paused in front of each of them and invited them to feel of it and to lick the clear drool from its tip. Each was more than anxious to do so. Betty watched the action in silent amusement but would not allow it to go any further for this first session.

"When did you first become aware of sex?" George asked Cathy next. "I would like to know all about your sexual awakening from the very beginning."

"I'll tell you the truth if you will all promise not to laugh at me and call me childish or stupid. If this session is going to mean anything to us I think we all owe it to George to be just as frank and forthright as he was in answering our questions. Okay?" she asked the other girls, almost as a challenge.

When they had all nodded their agreement, Cathy began to narrate the dawn of her own sex life, "Even though the period in which I was raised is supposed to be a more enlightened generation than that of George's youth, it might as well have been the Dark Ages as far as my family was concerned. Would you believe that I never remember having seen either my father or my mother undressed? In our house everyone locks the door when they go to the bathroom. We never lounge around in robes or pajamas. My parents stay fully clothed, except that my father removes his coat and tie when he comes home from work, until bedtime. Then they retire to their bedroom, they do so fully dressed and lock the door once they're inside. In the morning they are fully dressed before they unlock the door and emerge. If our house were to catch fire in the middle of the night I think they'd rather burn to death than run out in the street in their night clothes. My folks still believe that sex is a dirty word. Maybe that's why I'm an only child. Maybe they tried it once and didn't like it and never tried it again. I'm telling you this so that you'll understand my early experiences. I mean, I was really so square it's sad. Like honest, I was brought up believing that my pussy had no purpose other than to pee out of just as my asshole had no purpose other than to shit out of. I must have been ten or eleven before I saw pictures in the museum that showed that women's tits were used to nurse an infant. I never questioned where that infant came from. If I'd have asked my mom she'd have told me babies come from heaven. Sometimes I wondered what women did with their tits when they weren't nursing babies. I never dreamed that they, or those other parts of the anatomy, could be sources of physical pleasure. I never even paid much attention to my own body, other than to keep it clean. Then, when I was between twelve and thirteen, I began to notice that I was getting a growth of fuzz around my snatch. I had never seen my mother, or any other grown woman in the nude and I didn't know anything about pubic hair. I thought that I was turning into some kind of freak, like a bearded lady at the circus. It frightened me. I wondered if I should try to shave it off, or something. My toilet habits have always been very regular so I never went to the girls' room at school. Because I have a slight asthmatic condition I have always gotten a medical excuse from gym, so I never had occasion to see other girls' bodies, even. So this fuzz down there began to worry me more and more. I was afraid to mention it to my mother but each day, after school, I'd rush home and check my crotch. I kept hoping it would just go away but it got heavier and heavier. Within months I had a real beard down there and it kept spreading higher and higher. As you can see, my pubic hair covers twice the area of any of the rest of you." She stood up and ran her fingers through the huge blonde triangle to emphasize her point. "Soon I began to check on the progress of the growth with a hand mirror. It was in this way that I became aware of my internal sex parts. I used to spread my legs and hold the mirror down there and stare in awe at my insides. Soon I was examining them with my fingers and I soon discovered that touching some areas felt better than touching others. At that point I never brought myself to orgasm-with my fingers but I did become aware that it could feel good just to be touched down there."

"That's real weird, Cathy, because I had the exact same experience," Sally interposed.

"Yeah, me, too," Margo added, encouragingly.

"Well, anyway, one day in school I got this awful stomach ache. I figured it was something I had eaten. I thought I had a little fever along with it because I felt like I was sweating all over. After school, as usual, I rushed home and right into the bathroom to examine my new 'beard' with the hand mirror. I almost fainted when I discovered that my panties were soaked with blood. I feared that the hair had been the warning of some dread disease, like the Black Plague, and that I had ignored the warning and now I was bleeding to death from it."

"What did you do then?" George asked. Hearing about a young girl's first reaction to menstruation was all new to him. His wife had never mentioned the subject and surely his daughter Alice hadn't; at least, not to him.

"Well, I was scared to death. I had never bled from anything more serious than a cut finger or skinned knee. Now I was bleeding internally and I was sure that I was about to die. I ran to my mother and told her what was happening to me."

"What was her reaction?" Betty asked her friend.

"She seemed more annoyed and embarrassed than anything. She gave me an aspirin tablet and told me to put on fresh panties. Then she took me over to see this, old nurse. She must have been sixty years old. She just left me there while she went shopping. The old nurse, who had never been married and I doubt had ever been with a man, brought out books and charts and explained all about the menstrual cycle and the testicles and the ovaries and all that junk. She insisted upon examining me and kept poking her fingers in me and rubbing places that made it feel good. I later figured out that the old maid was a bull dyke and probably would like to have gone down on me but I guess I was so messy and smelly down there that it turned even her off. She kept talking about sex, but I'm sure she was quoting books rather than talking from personal experience. She made menstruation sound like a punishment since she kept referring to it as 'the white woman's curse." I often wondered later where the bigoted old bitch got that term since I have a lot of black girl friends and I found out they are plagued with the same curse as us white girls."

"What was your attitude towards sex after you went through that first menstrual period?" George asked the young blonde.

"I was tremendously curious about the whole subject. I remembered that on the page opposite a medical diagram the nurse had showed me there was a diagram of the male sex organs. I had never seen any and I wanted to very much. I had to content myself for almost a year with self-examination of the female genitals. I began to finger and massage myself there and it felt very good although I never brought myself to orgasm. Probably, I just quit too soon. You see, I didn't even know that there was supposed to be any climax. I had no idea what orgasm meant, much less felt like."

"Do you know now?" Margo asked her.

"Yes, of course, I do. You can't stay a baby forever. About a year later I began dating boys. You know, when I look back on it I guess it's really kinda funny. I was just the opposite of most girls. If a guy didn't try to get fresh with me on the first date I never gave him a second chance. I wanted to learn about sex and I had no patience with hand holding and tit squeezing. I wanted to go the full route. When I met Bobby I thought I'd found the answer to a maiden's prayer. The very first time we went out he took me to the movies. Before we even finished our box of popcorn he was running his hand up my skirt and into my panties. I was all hot and sticky and he seemed to know just where to touch and rub and I began to squirm around in that seat like mad. He had his whole hand in my panties and had two fingers in me and the others were doing wondrous things to my seething sex. Then he took one of my hands in his free hand and led it to his lap and placed it on his cock. It was like I had a hold of a red hot poker through his pants. I really went wild now and soon the most marvelous feeling swept through me and I saw a million shooting stars and my crotch got all wet and slimy and I had my first orgasm. He told me later that my snatch squeezed him so hard it almost broke his two embedded fingers. I wanted to unzip his fly and run my hand inside and feel that real flesh of manhood. Just then the damned usher lit us with his flashlight to show people to the empty seats next to us. We both pulled our hands back quickly and that ended it for that night. The following Friday, Bobby borrowed his folks' car and we went to a drive-in movie way out on the edge of town. I took off my panties so they wouldn't get in his way and pulled up my skirt so that he could see, as well as feel, me. That night he used both hands and did a wonderful job. When I came all over his fingers I heard the angels sing. Then I took out his cock and balls and examined them closely with both my eyes and my hands. I was completely fascinated by his male anatomy. I rubbed and tickled and stroked him while I watched his stiff cock tremble and throb at my touch. At last he got very hot and then these geysers of white syrup shot out of the tip like 'Old Faithful' going off. I watched, enthralled, as they rose a foot or more in the air and then fell back on his dark trousers. A lot of it got all over my hand and we had to clean it off as best we could with his handkerchief."

"Did you think about how it would be to have that stuff shoot out of his cock into your cunt?" George asked her.

"No, I didn't. I was still pretty stupid. I knew that we could massage each other's organs and bring them to a pleasurable climax but I had no conception of the fact that that massage could be administered with anything other than the hands. I was totally ignorant of actual fucking."

"What happened next?" Sally asked her.

"Nothing, really. For months after that we were content just to play with each other's genitals and masturbate one another to climax. As far as I was concerned, that was all there was to sex. Then one night he was sucking my tits which had begun to grow very rapidly in the past few months. They seemed to fascinate him. Each week they were larger than the week before. On this particular night he sucked and nibbled on my nipples far longer than usual. I was beginning to get very excited from his attentions. I even thought he could make me cum by just sucking and chewing on my tits."

"Yeah, a guy made me cum that way once," Margo interjected.

"Well, it didn't really happen to me," Cathy continued, "after he got his fill of my boobs he began to kiss me beneath them and then over my stomach and in my belly button and then down into that big patch of cunt hair. Finally he spread my legs and brought his face right to my snatch and began to do things to it with his tongue and lips that he had previously done only with his fingers. I felt like my delicate parts were being massaged with a live wire. He licked and slurped and sucked and nibbled at my sex until I thought I would go wild. At last I could stand it no more and I let go a flood of cum in his face. I was terribly embarrassed. Like I had just farted in his face, but he seemed to enjoy it. Later he came up and kissed me. His lips were all gooey and funny tasting. Suddenly, I realized that I was tasting my own sex juices on them. Then he asked me to go down and lick and suck on his big cock and to take it in my mouth and suck him off and swallow his cum. Under the circumstances of the moment I could hardly say 'no', so I went down and sucked his cock. It wasn't nearly the unpleasant experience that I thought it would be. I was really beginning to enjoy it when he blew his load in my mouth. If anyone had ever asked me I'd have said I was sure I would throw up under such conditions. My reactions were the exact opposite. It was like the first time I ever tasted a coconut malted. I loved it from the very first sip. I hungrily gulped down every bit of it and wished that there had been more. He came so much that it was running out of my nostrils and drooling down over my chin when I pulled off of his cock, but I loved every moment of the experience. Some girls are born to suck cock and I am happy to be one of them."

"Did you ever let him really fuck you?" Sally asked her, Betty and George exchanged knowing glances but remained silent, wondering if Cathy would be as honest with these other girls as she had been with Betty. Of course, George had gotten the story from Betty.

"Well, the only way I can honestly answer that is to say 'yes and no,' even though that sounds evasive," Cathy grinned. "Here's what happened. For many months after that first experience we kept going down and sucking each other off. It was better than hands but we both wondered if it was really as good as the 'real thing.' For the most part I think that we were both so happy with what we had that we were almost afraid to try for higher stakes in the sex lottery. Then this one night we were both hotter than two dollar pistols. Bobby kept begging me to let him put it in. I don't know why I resisted, but I did. At last, he wore down my resistance. I lay back on the seat of the car and spread my legs and he crawled between them with his throbbing twitching cock in his hand. I'll never forget the thrill when I felt the burning head of it rub into my vaginal lips and creep inside of my secret places. He felt it, too. Soon he moved forward and got the whole head in and then a little before he encountered the obstruction of my intact hymen. I was dying to have him break through that membrane and get that big hard cock all the way up inside of me. He lunged once and then twice, bouncing off of the protective wall and then suddenly he flooded the lips of my cunt with his hot cream. He had shot his load before he had broken down the barrier. I was aflame with passion but he was suddenly incapable of doing anything about it. I was in the ridiculous position of having had a man cum in my cunt and yet still technically being a virgin. I don't mind telling you it was pretty fucking frustrating. That night I decided that Bobby wasn't man enough for me. Even though I was determined to shut him off, I had no replacement in mind. Then Betty came along and told me about the merits of a more mature lover and how happy she was with George here. Suddenly, I wanted an older man to take sexual care of me but I had no idea where or how to find one. Then Betty offered to share George with me and I knew that I had found the answer to my problem. That's my story, what's yours?" The junior member of the trio looked to her two older compatriots.

"Just a moment," Betty interrupted. "We all know that confession is good for the soul and that talk-out sessions are one of the best ways of really getting to know and understand one another. Nonetheless, I had planned that this first session was to be largely a demonstration one. I think that we should now have an intermission in the confessionals and resume the laboratory displays of the gentler forms of the art of sex."

"Hey, this isn't fair. You're having all the fun and we're just standing on the sidelines playing with ourselves. I thought you promised to share George with us," Sally objected.

"All in due time. Each of you will have your full evening with George and, on those occasions, I will content myself by merely being an observer, as you are tonight. If you don't like the curriculum of this course, you are free to withdraw from it here and now. It is my firm conviction that any student must first learn by observation, then by experimentation."

"Okay, okay, we'll go along, even though you are torturing us. What next?" Margo put in.

"Well, this is something that I hadn't planned on for tonight, but it was brought up minutes ago by Cathy in her sincere recital. All of you are virgins. Earlier, George and I showed you what it is like to have a man's cock in your cunt. Cathy mentioned that she had always thought a cunt was just for peeing and an asshole just for shitting. We are now going to demonstrate to you that the second concept is no more valid than the first. In short, my dear girls, you are going to observe our friend George as he fucks me up the ass!"

Her announcement left her audience momentarily stunned. In the interim Betty disappeared into the bedroom and returned with a jar of cold cream. She helped George to his feet. Every eye in the room was on his throbbing hard cock as she coated it liberally with the white cream. Then she dipped a finger into the jar and anointed her rear cavity. Once this was accomplished she crouched on her knees on the couch, bracing her shoulders against the back of it. Her knees were spread apart and George walked up between them as the girls gathered close to watch the demonstration of buggery.

George's coated cock glistened in the lamplight. Sally, at his right side, reached out to touch and stroke it as though unwilling to trust her eyes. George reached forward and spread Betty's buttocks wide with the palms of his hands. The valley of the tan starfish 'was exposed to the unrestricted view of all in the room. The little beige purse string suture of her ass seemed to undulate as though it had a mind of its own as he brought the well-lubricated head of his stiff cock closer and closer to it. The three young girls who were relegated strictly to the position of observers tonight gasped as the huge piston sought to force its way into such a tiny cylinder. George got a good grip on Betty's hipbones and pulled her back as he lunged forward with all of his might until the swollen greasy head of his cock disappeared into the little brown tunnel of her ass. He held still for a moment now, giving her rectal muscles a chance to relax, and the tight shaft a chance to dilate. At length George grasped her hips tightly once more and lunged forward, burying a full half of his huge pole in her spread buttocks. Betty began to wiggle her ass now and seemed to be thrusting it back to him to aid in making the anal penetration complete. The girls gave a gasp as, with a brutal lunge, all of his huge cock disappeared in her rectum.

"Oh yes, George. Fuck me up the ass! Ram that big beautiful prick of yours all the way into my asshole and flood my bowels with your sweet cum." Betty groaned as she undulated her hips back and forth to meet his every thrust.

He buggered her good now with long strokes that left only the tip of his swollen cock in her tan starfish and then crammed the balls deep into the tight brown stricture while the young girl squirmed around on the cock that impaled her from the rear and groaned in ecstatic pleasure.

"Oh, Betty, your sweet little asshole is so hot and tight that it's making my balls boil over. I can't cornhole you much longer, baby, I'm just about to blow up load now," he groaned.

Betty stepped up the pace at the sound of his words, bucking her buttocks back to him like a wild woman. At the same time she began to make little animal noises each time he would cram balls-deep into her hot ass. The audience realized that they were both about ready to cum and showed surprise that Betty could be brought to orgasm through her rear sex opening as well as her front.

"Now, George, now! Let me have it! I want to feel your hot jism giving me a sex enema and flushing my lower intestines. Cum in my ass!"

The girl began to shake as though caught up in a severe chill and then her older lover grasped her hipbones and drove into her anal canal mercilessly until he too came to a trembling crescendo and the girls who watched their every move in wide-eyed awe sweated and gasped at the realization that he was cuming up their girl friend's ass. When his wild, passionate gushings had finally thoroughly drained his balls, George nearly collapsed on top of the bent-over girl.

"Wow!" Margo exclaimed as George plopped his spent cock out of Betty's distended anus. "Now I know what my dad means by that corny old expression he uses."

"What expression is that?" Sally asked, still in a daze from the weird performance they had just witnessed.

"You bend over and touch your toes and I'll show you where the wild goose goes," Margo explained and the girls all snickered and broke the high tension of the moment.

While they relaxed again over a glass of wine Betty suggested that Sally and Margo give a brief rundown on their early sex experiences, or lack of same. A talk-out session is only fair if everyone bares his or her soul.

Little brunette Margo picked up the ball and began by narrating her early experiences. She had a tiny patch of cunt hair, compared to the blonde Cathy, and her titties were small but well formed. Her lips were quite full, which usually indicates sexuality and her eyes were large and wide set. There was something about her that made George think of the descriptive term "neat and petite." She was such a proper-looking young lady, even sitting here in the nude, that it was hard for George to realize that she was only here because she wanted this man, three times her age, to fuck her. There was no blushing or floor-staring where Margo was concerned. She looked around the small group and kept her voice level and her eyes high as she began her sex recital, "I'm afraid I can't say I was innocent of any knowledge of sex until recently. Nothing could be further from the truth. Based upon the depth of my knowledge of sex and the age at which I acquired it I suppose it is nothing short of a miracle that I am a sixteen-year-old virgin today, instead of a practicing whore with a wide following. In order that you understand what I am about to tell you, I must give you a certain amount of background information on my upbringing. About the time I was born, my father used to make an awful lot of money. I don't know just how because the folks would never talk about it. Well, anyway, something happened and by the time I was between three and four years old, Dad went broke. Fortunately, we had this big old house in a good neighborhood that was fully paid for but the maid and the gardener service fell by the wayside. Soon the grounds were overgrown and the place looked generally rundown. Dad, who had always been in business for himself, took a job and I guess he wasn't too happy about it. Even though he worked long hours he couldn't seem to make ends meet and soon Mom started working, too. That meant that even before I was five I was left at home a lot on my own except for an occasional friendly neighbor who would look in on me or bring me something to eat. While most kids under those circumstances would glue themselves to the television set, I became a bookworm. Daddy had this full scale library. He must have had thousands of books. Even before I learned to read I used to spend many happy hours just looking at the pictures in them and making up stories to fit them in my own mind. What used to fascinate me the most was a huge locked section of bookcases behind solid doors. Why would people want to lock up their books? Like most little girls I was consumed with curiosity as to what they contained. I used to think of these locked cabinets as being Pandora's box. I wondered what would escape if I could ever open them. One rainy afternoon I had tried to reading, or pretending to, and I was drawing on this big sketch pad someone had given me. I was completely engrossed with my artistic endeavors when I broke the point on the only pencil I had. I had never before dared to go into my father's big desk but now I did, in search of either another pencil or a sharpener. In one of the top drawers I discovered a small key hanging on a cup hook that had been screwed into the side of the drawer. I don't know what possessed me to do so but I tried the key in the locked cabinets and sure enough, it fit. My father was, obviously, one of the original 'Dirty Old Men' because those cabinets were crammed full of every type of dirty book, picture magazine and other forms of pornography. Mind you, I was about five years old when I made this discovery. I didn't understand what the people in the pictures were doing but they held a fatal fascination for me. I felt as though I was being allowed to eavesdrop on some secret rites and some sixth sense told me not to ever mention this to my parents. For years, even after I was in school, I would rush home, unlock the cabinets and look at the dirty books. As I got a little older I began to feel a strange excitement in my crotch as I went through them and often my panties would be moist and sticky when I had finished my perusal of Dad's porno collection. Unlike Cathy, I knew exactly what to expect when I started getting hair on my cooze. It meant that I was becoming an adult, like the women in the pictures, and soon I could do those strange things that they were doing. By the time I was thirteen I was anticipating sex more than anything else in life. My first experience was, therefore, somewhat surprising."

"In what way?" Betty encouraged her friend to continue.

"Well, one day I was way over on the other side of town, running an errand for Mother. I figured if I walked all the way home I could save the bus fare Mom had given me and buy an ice cream soda. I was trudging along the unfamiliar streets when this big car pulled over to the curb. There was a man my father's age inside. He opened the door and told me that he was a friend of my dad's and that he would drive me home. Like a little idiot, I hopped in the car. All I was thinking about was that I'd enjoy that ice cream soda sooner, thanks to the ride. Like I say, I was unfamiliar with the neighborhood, so I paid no attention to where he was going. As far as I was concerned we were heading for home. All of a sudden we're out in this deserted area with no houses or other cars around and he pulls over and parks. He tells me that he has something interesting to show me and then he opens his pants and takes out this huge cock and even pulled out his balls. I guess he thought he was showing me something I had never seen before and that I would turn to putty at the sight. How could he know that I had seen hundreds of cocks in all sizes, shapes and colors in those pictures in Dad's books. He grabbed my hand and forced me to touch it. I had no idea that it would be so hot. It was like he had a fever. Then he told me that he was going to put that thing in me, between my legs. He said it like I wouldn't know what he was talking about. Little did he know! He spread my legs and aimed that huge tree trunk at my tiny virgin pussy. In spite of the fact that I offered no resistance he almost split me in two just trying to get the head of that monster in me. I had never dreamed that it would hurt from the expressions on the faces of the people in the pictures, so I was suddenly shocked and frightened. He kept ramming it at me and the pain got worse and worse. I told him to wait a minute, that I had an idea I thought would make it easier for us. While he pulled away slightly I reached down and took off my shoe and whacked him in the balls as hard as I could. While he squealed in pain I jumped out of the car and ran for my life. My first close encounter with sex had left me so frightened and frustrated that I remained turned off on the subject for a long time afterwards. Then I began dating this real nice guy at school. I really wanted him to fuck me but he was an unbelievable square. Even when he kissed me and I'd shove my tongue in his mouth he never tried to play with my titties or anything. Finally I grabbed him by the cock. It was hard enough and I made it even harder. When I finally decided that the time had come I got real bold and unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock and kept stroking it as I spread my legs and pulled him towards my burning crotch. Just as the head of his hot prick grazed against my cunt hair I felt him twitch and jerk and suddenly I was all wet and sticky and he was shrinking like a deflated balloon. He had shot his load all over the outside of my cunt, creating more mess than relief. I was so frustrated I could have climbed walls. When I went to bed later that night I reached down to see if I had gotten all of his spunk cleaned off of me. I touched my clit and it felt real good so I kept rubbing and massaging it until I reached my first orgasm. The experience was so thrilling that now I knew I wanted sex, the real way. I couldn't stand the thought of having some other young swain blow his load before he made me crumble my cookies. Then Betty told me about her perfect arrangement with an older man and I decided that that was the answer for me too-so here I am."

Now that Margo had bared her soul to the rest of them, everyone looked to Sally. Sally was the same height as Margo and her hair was about the same color and yet, somehow, one would not use the word "petite" to describe her. Her tits were much larger and fuller. Even the nipples and the aureoles were larger and darker in color than Margo's. Her hips were fuller and she had a very slight tummy. The growth of pubic hair was larger and heavier than Margo's. She wasn't exactly chubby but she had a provocative amount of baby fat. She was best described as "cuddly".

Sally began her story, after looking around and checking each face as much as to ask if they would be understanding. Apparently satisfied, she started, a little hesitantly, "I'm afraid my experiences, or birth of them, are really so uninteresting that they will bore you. You have made me realize that I am so middle of the road that it's almost pathetic. I am neither as naively innocent of the facts of life as Cathy nor as cogently knowledgeable of them as Margo, My mom thought that she was progressive and tried to read all the literature on what to tell a daughter about the facts of life. When I first started to menstruate we had long talks. There were no secrets, no mystic rites. Mom laid it right on the line and, as a woman, I knew what was expected of me sexually and what I might expect in return. It was no more dull nor exciting than learning arithmetic or French. It was just another facet of the knowledge of life that I had to learn to grow up. Mother told me that there was a time in life for all things-including sex. She explained that all too many young people fouled up their whole future by trying to go against the social timetable. She told me of the tragic cases of young girls who got pregnant, or married, or hopefully both, before they were prepared to take on these responsibilities of life. She explained that today's society demands that people have a good and full education in order to achieve success. As a result they should finish college and only think of marriage and sex when they reach their mid-twenties. I had no reason to dispute her ideas. In all matters I have always accepted my mother's word as the gospel truth. This was no different, or so I thought at the time. The one thing Mom didn't explain to me is that the sex urge and desire is every bit as powerful in girls as it is in boys. When guys would try to 'make out' with me I'd tell them that I wasn't ready, that it wasn't time for that yet. They'd assume I meant to wait until our next date. After a while they got frustrated and gave up on me. Then I began waking up at night with hot sweats and a strange gnawing sensation in my crotch. Funny, but I didn't at first relate it to sex. I had to talk about it to somebody my own age and so I discussed it with Betty, since she's my closest friend. She got my head screwed on right on the subject. She told me about how you had helped her, George, and extolled the advantages of learning anything as important as sex from an experienced and qualified instructor. It made sense to me, especially when she related it to the fact that she would not for a moment consider jumping out of an airplane with a guy who had never made a sky-dive before."

The other girls commented among themselves for a few moments and then they all looked to George as though for words of mature wisdom. George was afraid that he might say the wrong thing and break the spell that had led him into this sexual Shangri-la. Finally, Sally asked him, "George, you are older and better educated than we are. Our parents and the society in which we live keeps telling us that there is a time in life for sex and yet we are all eaten alive with passions which we are told to cool and wait for fulfillment. Are we doing the wrong thing in wanting to break down the sexual barrier and enter into the society of real women while still in our mid-teens. You seem to be a nice guy whom we can rely upon to level with us. We have enough faith in you, from what Betty has told us about you, that we don't think that you would bullshit us just to crawl into our cunts. After all, we are only here because we're offering up our virginity to you. You appear to be the type of guy who would consider that to be a sacred trust and wouldn't violate it. Tell us, from your great depth of knowledge and experience, are we rushing life by wanting to participate in sex in our mid-teens? Should we wait another ten years, as society seems to dictate? Is there a perfect age at which to embark upon one's sex life, and if so, what is that age?"

George looked around over the bevy of young naked beauties. Their anxious, sincere eyes were fixed upon him as though he were a later-day Ovid, an oracle of sex. He couldn't bring himself to lie to these honest girls who had bared their innermost secrets to him. Even if it meant forgoing sex with them he had to give them an honest answer. He walked over and poured himself a glass of wine, draining the big bottle, before he settled down to answer their open-heart questions.

"Girls, it's been a good many years since I studied sociology at college but I doubt that the rules have changed any. What we are considering here tonight is the age-old battle between the laws of nature and the laws of society. Without wanting to sound religious about it, let's assume that nature's laws were created by God and society's laws were created by man. From the very dawn of history, mankind has been engaged in a moral tug of war between these two codes of behavior. Primitive man didn't have this problem. When he was hungry he simply hunted and killed and ate. When he grew tired he lay down and slept. There were no rules that dictated to him that he must eat at seven, twelve and six o'clock and go to sleep at ten at night and then awaken at six in the morning. The rules of his life were simple in that he did that which came naturally. As for his sex life, when he got an erection he simply approached the nearest female and inserted his stiff staff into any available orifice of her body that was convenient. Whether he addressed her vaginally, anally or orally was of no consequence. Nor did it matter whether the subject of his sexual gratification happened to be his mother, his sister or a total stranger. He was merely obeying a purely animalistic instinct. As our primeval forebears developed a form of society which we can refer to as civilization, man placed more and more yokes around his neck in the form of what became known as totems and taboos. As this so-called civilization progressed and grew, man came to think that his laws were wiser than and superior to those of God. The basic laws of nature became subordinated to the laws of man. This condition, like a cancer, fed upon itself until today society has a disdain for the laws of nature and insists that the universe revolve about and exist by its own prescribed principles. The ultimate culmination of this trend is our present-day society."

"Now, let's translate this in terms of the topic at hand-which is sex. We must remember that the forces of nature and the forces of society are at constant loggerheads. You girls have all related the experiences of your sexual awakening. Invariably, these have been on nature's-not society's-timetable. The human animal reaches what is known as a stage of puberty in the early teen years. This is evidenced by the sudden growth of pubic hair around the genital areas. It is further evidenced in the female by the onset of the menstrual process and in the male by the subconscious erection of the penis at periodic intervals. This is nature's way of telling us that the time for sex has arrived. Both male and female bodies have achieved maturity and are now capable of reproduction in order to perpetuate the species. As in other life forms this is the basic law of nature. But the man-made laws of society say 'NO! Nature is wrong. You may have these drives and urges and physical abilities but we decree that you must wait another ten years before putting these God-given blessings to use.' The pursuit of this false concept of morality is the seat of most of mankind's psychological and physiological problems. The older I get the more I am inclined to go along with nature. To give a straight and simple answer to your question, I think that the ideal age at which to begin one's sex life is the age that nature gave us the capabilities to engage in this happy activity."

If there were any doubts in the minds of the lovely young females present, George's erudite analysis of the socio-sexual scene removed them.

"Are there any among you who wish to back out rather than embark upon the sea of sex with friend George as your leader?" Betty asked the sexual novitiates in the room. There were no dissenting comments and so Betty announced that this first session had come to an end. The girls were invited to return here at the same time for the next three nights. They would draw cards and the high-draw would get George's deflowering attentions for that entire session while the others watched. All of a sudden the first meeting was over. George hated to see those lush female bodies cover themselves but slowly they got dressed again. The transformation was amazing. One minute, in the nude with tits and asses blossoming and cunt hair displayed, they were women. The next minute in skirts and sweaters and saddle shoes, they had returned to adolescence.

Ten minutes later he and Betty were alone again. They went in to check on young Jimmy and then came back to the den. Betty led him to the big leather club chair and urged him to sit while she fell to the floor between his legs and proceeded to lick and suck on his sex until he got hard and then continued to do so until he got quite soft again. After that she dressed and ran next door to home. It had been quite an evening for all concerned.

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