Chapter 7
Sally was the last member of George Ross' private parade of virgins. There was no need to cut cards on that evening. It was her-turn in the barrel. As with her predecessors the ceremony of her deflowering started with an internal inspection of her secret badge of virginity. She spread her thighs wide as George brought the little flashlight into place and peered into her crimson interior. He let out a long low whistle at what he saw. Lord knows, he had his work cut out for him.
The little brunette with the huge orbs and the belly to match had a rare hymen, the toughest of all to break into. Unlike an annular or a separated hymen there was no pencil-size single hole in its center. Instead, the tough membrane that had stood guard over her virginity since birth was riddled with tiny little perforations like a tea strainer. There wasn't even a starter hole to gain initial entry. Often brides with this unusual physical guardian gate resisted the most violent attack upon their inner sex all throughout their wedding night while the rigid, rock-hard cocks of their virile young grooms bounced off the tough thick diaphragm like it was a sexy midnight trampoline. Many had to be taken to a gynecologist to have the unusually strong barrier to penile penetration surgically removed. George had read of many primitive societies in which the maidens were deflowered publicly by use of a phallic wooden rod or stone used ceremonially to split the hymen. Women in these cultures who had rare hymens often resisted even the battering-ram effect of the sticks or stones and were cast out from the tribe as being unfit for sexual purposes. Comparatively, the normal hymen was like a silk gauze and this rare form had the strength of awning canvas.
George pointed cut the odd phenomenon to the girls, one of whom held her vanity mirror in place so that Sally herself could see the problem. To batter down such a strong barrier was a formidable task for even the most powerful young stud, let alone a man in his mid-forties. The problem seemed insurmountable under the circumstances but Sally was insistent that he at least give it a try. George dreaded the thought of being doomed to failure in front of his young female admirers. At the moment he wished that he were a trained and experienced surgeon rather than an aeronautical engineer. He knew too much about human anatomy and also stress analysis not to realize that the odds against his success were stacked against him. Sally insisted upon her opportunity to join her friends and peers in the society of women. Tearfully she begged George to at least give it the old college try.
"Yeah," he muttered to himself, "do or die for dear old Stanford. Okay, you lecherous dirty old man, you lucked your way into this harem arrangement; now let's see you luck your way out of this predicament."
To get the ordeal under way George went down and sucked her cunt with all of the voracity at his command. Not only did he want to get her well lubricated (although that was the excuse he gave her) but he also hoped to make her orgasm so many times that she would holler "Uncle" before demanding actual intercourse. No such luck befell him. He sucked and licked and chewed on her gooey gash until his jaws ached and he was completely out of breath. Each successive orgasm seemed to only heighten her desire to feel his cock inside of her. Her cunt was filled to overflowing with sex juices but George realized that lubrication alone was not the answer. That would be fine if she were just tight. In the case at hand he was called upon to batter his way through a virtually impenetrable obstruction.
Even his first attempts to gain even partial entry were thwarted. George himself had quite a little pot belly. When it came into contact with hers he couldn't even reach her. They looked, for all the world, like two marbles trying to fuck. In a final desperate effort he put her towel over the back of the couch and bent her over it as he approached his tender target from the rear in a dog-fashion form. At first he didn't seem to be hard enough and then they would try again. He had no difficulty working the head of his huge cock into her vaginal lips but then he encountered the strong obstruction which resisted his most ferocious efforts to break it down. He might as well have tried to blast his way through a concrete wall using his cock as a jackhammer.
On a sudden inspiration, he began to move his hips around and batter at her from various angles, rather than a straight-on attack. Was it his imagination or was the tough little barrier beginning to stretch. He looked down and watched as his big hard cock sunk into the base of her open cunt. He wasn't imagining things. It was going in a little deeper with every stroke. He redoubled his efforts and moved about to batter at it from even more oblique angles. Each time he seemed to sink in an eighth of an inch more. The girls watched in breathless admiration as he rammed harder and deeper into her virgin cunt from this rear approach.
Sally grunted and groaned and kept urging him onward. He was very close to the end of his strength when she let out a loud gasp of pain and he felt the tough little membrane barrier tear and the ferocity of his thrust carried him full depth into her virgin sex tube on the very first stroke.
She bled profusely and George rested with her throbbing bleeding cunt fully impaled on his stiff prick while he caught his breath. Then he began to fuck her with long powerful strokes as she moaned and groaned and thrust her buttocks back to flatten against his belly as he kept sawing in and out of her new opened sex canal. She shook with one climax after another as he continued to give her a screwing that she wouldn't soon forget. There seemed to be no limit to young Sally's orgasmic capacities. Finally, George felt his own approaching and then, almost without warning, it burst upon him and he blasted jet after jet of his frothy white jism into the girl's burning cunt. When he withdrew he was dizzy from the physical and mental strain of leading her across the threshold of sexual maturity. The towel beneath her was drenched with blood. It would make another proud battle flag for his secret trophy room. Later, he trimmed the locks of her chestnut pubic hairs to go with it.
His score was complete now. Four out of four. The episode had been the most time-consuming as well as energy-consuming of any of them. He was relieved when the girls prepared to leave before Sally could ask for a second round. They went through the usual ritual of the "after" examination of her torn hymen and within minutes they were dressed and gone. George was alone to inscribe Sally's name, age and the date on her stained towel and to tape the hairs to it.
The next day the girls all had to return to school. The spring vacation was over. Except for Betty with her nightly baby-sitting, the others wouldn't be able to get out for a late evening again until the following Friday.
As much as he would miss the variety, George would welcome the rest. The way he felt as he crawled into bed, even one nymphet might be more than he could handle for a while.