Chapter 9

When Popsy came home that evening, he found that all the lights in the apartment had been turned out. It was dark and quiet and he wondered if Christine were at home as she should be. His hand went up to the light switch and then something told him that he shouldn't bother with lights, but should accustom his eyes to the darkness. The mood in the apartment was so peaceful that he didn't want to disturb it.

He found his way to Christine's bedroom. Something in the air told him that she was at home. He found her standing by the window in her nightgown, looking out over the city. Her form seemed to glisten with a holy light as the thin material reflected the gleam from other windows. She didn't seem to notice him. Her eyes were fixed on the outside as if there were something in the distance that warranted her unwavering attention.

Christine wasn't really looking at anything. She had worked herself into a state of oblivion that was so total she hadn't even heard the door when her father entered. Her thoughts were far away dwelling on a thin pang of guilt imbedded in her brain. She had spoiled a good thing with Mr. Dickinson. She had altered their felicitous relationship so that he could never again be her friend.

He had kept her at his apartment late, fucking and sucking. He had wanted her to make up to him for missing his important telephone call. He had taken complete and utter advantage of the situation. He had used her for his pleasure without a thought to the future. Then he had threatened her physically if she ever told anyone about their little tryst.

Lust had changed his personality completely until she could hardly distinguish the familiar features that had always reflected kindness. Lovemaking had made him uptight rather than relax him. She supposed that that was natural to some people. He said that this was the first time in his life that anything so tawdry had overtaken him. She left him little choice but to abuse her. She was a slut and didn't deserve the consideration that he had formerly showed her.

She wondered in her child's brain if what he said were true. She didn't understand the rhyme or reason of her passions very well, but somehow they always seemed to lead her into painful situations. She wondered if she would ever find a satisfactory relationship in which she wouldn't be taken advantage of so rudely. She would be eleven years old at the end of the month yet the problems of womanhood wrinkled her brow.

Her father laid his hand lightly on her shoulder. She turned around slowly and smiled at him as if from a distance. He tousled her hair playfully and looked away, out the window, once again. He smelled the sweet perfume of her hair and body pervading the room.

"Is something wrong, honey? You look very pale as far as I can tell by the light of the moon. Why are you standing here in the dark?"

"Oh, I was just thinking," she replied dreamily.

"And what were you thinking about so deeply?"

"Oh, nothing," she answered evasively. He went over to the wall and turned on the overhead light. He noticed her clothes in a rumpled heap on a chair. He went over to them and lifted them instinctively. Her soiled panties came to his attention and he picked them up and sniffed at them. He could see the crotch wet and slimy and he thought that he knew what was bothering her.

"Who were you with this afternoon? I'm going to give you the chance to tell the truth. If you give it to me straight, I promise not to be angry."

"I wasn't with anyone. Who should I be with? There aren't any boys at school and I'd be afraid to go off with some guy on the street," she lied.

Christine was feeling rather self-destructive. She wanted him to be angry with her. She wanted to be punished for her indiscretion.

"Christine. The evidence is in your panties. You didn't try to hide it very well. Everything about you tells a tale. Who were you with?" He took her by the shoulders and shook her. Her hair moved around her face loosely and her frightened eyes looked up at him imploringly.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Oh, but you will. Who was it?" He shook her again more violently. His jealousy was aroused by the specter of her unknown lover. The longer she kept her secret, the more it annoyed him.

"It was a teacher. I don't want to tell you his name because he'll lose his job."

"He deserves to. It's not part of his job to seduce his students. Where did it happen."

"In his apartment."

"You went to his apartment. You little whore. You wanted it, didn't you?" He slapped her across the face and the tears welled up pitifully in her eyes.

"It was my own fault. I admit it. I'm guilty."

"What am I going to do with you?" Popsy put his hands to his head and ran his fingers through his hair in anguish.

His frustration was building up inside of him. It would have to find some outlet soon, or he felt that he would burst a blood vessel. He dragged her after him onto the bed. He sat down heavily and pulled her over his knee.

"I'm going to punish you. Maybe I can beat the perversity out of your ass."

He lifted the thin material that trailed down around her hips, pulling it back to expose the firm white cheeks of her ass. He laid his palm across it and felt the cool skin laying like a soft snowdrift before him. He whisked his hand over it gently feeling his lust and anger gather inside him. Then he raised his hand over his head and let it fall heavily across the lovely cheeks.

After the first slap broke silence, he found it easy to rain his blows down one after the other. She kicked her feet and cried out painfully for him to stop. But he was carried away by the feel of her soft flesh under his hard hand. Her cheeks grew pink and vibrated erotically on top of his legs. She was writhing and moaning passionately over his knee.

His hand began to sting and he threw her violently across the bed. She lay there breathing heavily. Her small breast heaved up and down and he could see the deep color of the nipples peering through the transparent material of her nightgown. Her hand shielded her face as if she expected more blows to fall. She looked completely helpless and pathetic and he felt a new emotion seize hold of him.

"What is it about you that drives men wild? You cause nothing but trouble. How can a body so small and immature call up such passion in men's souls. I feel like a father from some tale of the Middle Ages. What can I do with you to keep you from your downfall. Should I send you away to a convent where you'd be out of the hands of men? You'd probably seduce the first priest who crossed your path."

"I don't know what to do with me. I want to be good. I try to. Do you think that I'm happy? I hate everybody and everything."

He suddenly felt remorse for his actions. He had acted hastily and out of jealousy. He hadn't really been considering her plight at all. Now it dawned upon him that it wasn't her fault. She was only a weak vessel, as they say, having little control over how she was filled. Her desire to have men was purely instinctive. Her early awakening was, after all, at least partly his own fault.

He began to stroke her tender body with his hand. She felt the softness of his touch which made her body shiver and tingle after it had become used to the previous minutes of pain. She peeped through her hands and saw the look of tender concern on his face. He looked handsome, and fatherly. His hair was distinctly gray at the sideburns and temples and there were telling wrinkles around his soft, gray eyes.

"Popsy, don't you love me anymore?" she said in a low agonizing voice that was almost a wail.

He bent over her face on the bed and began kissing her cheeks tenderly. They were flushed and hot under his lips. The agitation in her eyes wrung his heart.

"Of course I love you. You're my one and only little girl. No matter what you do, you'll always be mine."

"Oh, Popsy." She lifted her arms around his neck and them bristle sensitively. She buried her lips in his into her body. She kissed him fervidly on the lips feeling him sink down onto her heavily.

He abandoned himself in her arms. He pressed his lips against hers with more than fatherly love. He closed his eyes and let his tongue wander inside her mouth. She grasped it with her own in a deep French kiss. Her mouth opened wetly and he plunged his tongue inside her with feeling.

He opened his eyes and saw her blue ones swimming before him. All her fear and concern seemed to have been absorbed in a new and softer light. Her beauty made his body ache and he knew that he must share her guilt in order to dispel his anger. He arose with dignity and began to undress.

He took his clothing off methodically, laying it neatly on a chair. Then he lay down naked beside her and let her explore his manly body. She lay her head on the curling brown and gray hairs of his chest and listened to his heart beat strongly within.

He lifted his hand to her head and patted her soft hair. Then he began to push her down. Her smooth lips slipped over his body, trailing down the hairs and making them bristled sensitively. She buried her lips in his crotch, at the root of his sex and pulled at them amorously watching his penis bob up and down excitedly before her eyes.

He gave her head a final shove and she reached out with her tongue for his red-hot cock. She clutched it tightly and popped the smooth head inside her mouth with her ear still resting on his crotch. She sucked on it like a child with a bottle. She closed her eyes and abandoned herself to her task.

Christine felt his body moving under her rhythmically as she massaged the skin up and down over his rod and pushed more of it into her mouth. She raised her head over it and let her lips sink on top of it, feeling it leap inside her and hit the back of her throat. He pressed his hands on top of her head to help her maintain the right rhythm as she sucked him off.

His passion flowered inside him. Her lips were hot and wet and soothing around him. He felt all his strength gathering in his dick as she stretched it out and licked it inside her mouth. His legs became rigid with passion as he lifted himself into her again and again. She never let go no matter how hard he rammed it into her. The depth of her mouth seemed intimate. She caressed and lapped him like a warm sea.

She felt his dick probing inside her mouth. It jumped around fiercely until she could no longer keep hold of it with her tongue. She began to gasp exotically as he rammed it against the back of her throat. It shot down the narrow opening and she choked on it luxuriously.

He felt the spasms of her throat sending sensual vibrations through his stout staff. Her throat closed around the sensitive tip sucking it down deeper and deeper. He thrust it again and again listening to her gasp and splutter around it with delight. Then he shot his load into her and felt the hot blast ooze back around the head of his dick and slide down her throat. He held her on top of him forcefully until she had drained every drop. Then he let her up slowly still coughing.

She looked at him meaningfully, as if to say, "I want more." He smiled back at her and drew her up into his arms by the hair. She crawled back over his chest and nestled in his arms as affectionately as she had ever done.

He reached his hand down to the skirt of her nightie and drew it up over her head. She raised herself to let him pull it off. He discarded it on the floor and looked down over her charming little body with delight.

"I have a confession to make. You don't know how long I've wanted to take you. I've held myself back all this time because I thought that it would hurt you. But now I know otherwise. It's obvious that you need a man to love you and I will deprive you no longer." He stroked her head gently and she kissed him on the neck.

He let his hand wander over her body freely, for the first time. He fondled her budding breasts affectionately, admiring how much they had grown over the past few months. She no longer looked like such a child and it made him sad to see that she was growing so fast. He was glad that he had seized the opportunity to have her while she was still so young and unformed. The baby softness of her young flesh drove him wild. The downy hairs on her pubis made his hand ache, it was so delicate under his large palm. He massaged the swollen lips with his fingers, nuzzling them aside until he slipped into the honey-besmirched crack.

He diddled his finger inside her sensitively, feeling her rub against his body with delight. She was purring deep in her throat like a kitten. He felt her little clitty tingling at his touch. She spread her legs wide open with desire and lifted her ass so that he could reach deep inside her if he pleased.

He raised himself from under her and settled his body on top of her little form. She sunk into the mattress as he lay down upon her, spreading his legs around her head and lifting himself on his knees when he had found the right position.

He grabbed her ass in both his hands. She could feel his nails imbedded in the tender crack between her cheeks. He picked her up to his mouth and began to eat voraciously. He dipped his tongue between her pink labia and sucked on each hp in turn. Then he grasped her tidbit of clitty between his lips and sucked it deep into his mouth letting his tongue rag it around inside. He closed his teeth around it passionately and she began bouncing up and down wildly as he clung to eat. The exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain sang through her body like a high-pitched note strung from a violin.

Christine became aware of his dick and balls hanging six inches over her head. She reached up to them and plucked them down like fruit. She lowered one ball into her mouth at a time. Her tongue licked the hairs and then she closed her mouth around it passionately and sucked on it like it was candy. She unloosened it only to capture its partner, and treat it in the same delicious fashion.

She yanked on his dick as she sucked. He could feel her hand squeezing and then loosening in agitation. It began to grow longer and longer until it dangled between her eyes. She pounced on it suddenly, and pushed it into her mouth. She pulled and sucked on it voraciously until it was thick and hard. He could hear her moaning voice surrounding it as she blew him.

He lapped her up and down, eating her like a piece of juicy watermelon. She held herself up on her feet now and pushed her pussy into him. She could feel his bristly cheeks irritating her cunt delightfully. She was on fire again and dying for him to come inside her.

"Oh, Popsy," she moaned. "I'm ready for you. Do it to me now. Oh, please. Put your hard cock up my pussy."

Her tone was childish in his ears. The coarse words mixed with it in a strange combination that excited him. She was a passionate child and he was ready to be her sugar daddy.

He turned on top of her. He held himself over her on all fours, his long hard member sticking up between his legs. He bent over her breasts for one last taste.

She writhed underneath him with impatience. He sucked up her nipple between his lips. He seemed to smile as he held it and lolled his tongue over the surface. His eyes looked straight up at her, and seemed to burn right through her head. They seemed to say, first I'll light your fire hotter than ever before and then maybe I'll put it out.

He ragged her tender nipples cruelly. He bit into them with his teeth and watched them pucker and distort under his mistreatment. He picked her breast up by one of the tender rosettes and pulled it up, stretching it cruelly, until the veins showed with purple passion under the white skin. He finally stood up over her on his haunches and admired her gleaming white flesh, her hair, like yellow flames whipping around her head, her pussy pulsing beneath

He poked one hand underneath her and picked her pussy up to his own level. He inserted the point of his prick with the other hand and watched her grimace as she felt it part the swollen lips. He wiggled it around the entrance to feel the hot cream adhering to the head so that it would slide all the way in with ease. He pushed himself into her slowly, and she moaned agonizingly, opening her thighs as wide as she could and waiting for him to come completely inside before she began to move.

Finally she felt him throbbing deep inside and could see his dark pubic hairs mounting her own crest. She rolled her thighs around in his hands and felt his length and thickness inside her. He seemed to fill every inch of her interior with his hot, vibrant cock. She wriggled around on it feeling it poke into and tickle her sensitive canal.

He let her ride on top of him. He liked the way she moved. She was hot and creamy around him and he would let her exhaust herself before he began to really move it around. She bounced her ass in the palm of his hands, and he held her higher and higher feeling as strong as Atlas. He watched the lips open and close around him and the juices dripping out around the root of his thick, hard shaft.

Finally she was opening and closing her knees spasmodically and he felt the pressure of her tight cunt around him. She came copiously and her body relaxed. Her smile was dazzling and her eyes brilliant. He lowered her onto the bed and began his own motions.

He lay down on top of her and poked one of her nipples into his mouth. He raised his ass up in the air and began to thrust his big dick up her creamy cunt powerfully. He rammed and reamed with his balls slapping rhythmically against her ass. She felt the thickness of it expanding more and more with each thrust.

Christine had never been so full before, or at least it didn't stick in her memory. He was so big and hard inside her and that was all that seemed to matter. She supposed that each time it felt even better than the time before merely because it was happening now. In any case, her body began to re-awaken to a revitalized need, and her sexual energies soared inside her until she was bucking furiously beneath him once again.

She held herself tightly around him as he tried to pull out. Then when just the tip remained corked in the entrance she opened herself up completely and let him whoosh back inside like a jet plane. No matter how large she made herself, he still stretched her out. His cock would drive up against the walls of her chasm like a caged beast.

Finally he began socking it into her faster than before. She could see the muscles bulging in his arms as he pushed himself on and off her. She lifted herself to him and held her body open as he came crashing inside her. He released his hot flood into her loins and it tingled inside her delightfully. She felt herself following him to the brink of fulfillment and held onto his slowly withering dick with all her might. She bucked and pranced around him until she forced herself over the edge. Her gates of passion opened and her fluids escaped to mix with his. She was completely soaked inside. He pulled out and the emissions dripped from her loins like relieving tears.

She nuzzled under his arm once again and fell asleep quickly after her exhausting day. Popsy was left to his own thoughts. He covered her over with a blanket and went into the living room to prepare a drink.

So it's come to this after all, he thought, lighting a cigarette. He took a long sip on his scotch and soda and tried to relax. He was very tired but sleep was far from his mind. Well, perhaps it will do her good, he continued to himself. Maybe I can keep her content for a while and out of trouble. Poor little thing has been through a lot, it's no wonder her mind is confused.

He inhaled deeply on his cigarette and let the smoke swirl up around his head. It rose in a puff like a genie, and he settled his head back against the cushion of the couch, closing his eyes. He thought about her voluptuous little body and how much pleasure he would be able to find in it. He couldn't get over how hot she had been for him. It was obvious that if he didn't satisfy her himself, she would be able to find plenty of others.

He reviewed in his mind the faculty at her private school wondering who it was that had been with her that afternoon. The only males he could come up with were the principal and the superintendent. They both looked too old and fat to get it up. Then he remembered how she had been praising her English teacher, whose name he couldn't remember. Perhaps that was who it was. He seemed to be the only person she liked at school.

Popsy tried to call Mr. Dickinson's face up before his mind. He remembered him as being rather tall and lanky, not too old either. He wore glasses and spoke in a very proper and stilted manner. He wondered how Christine had ever managed to con him into it. He had looked like the career-minded type, meek and self-righteous. But he realized that his daughter could get under a man's skin. If she started to come on to a guy, he imagined that she could be hard to refuse.

He thought about himself. He had been able to hold himself at bay for a long time, but that was only because he had felt responsible for her. Now he realized that he had no reason to feel guilty about his desire for her. Obviously he wasn't the only one who was tempted by her tender trap.

He stamped his cigarette out in an ashtray and decided to go to bed. He tossed the last of his drink down and felt it slide icy-cold, and then warm in his chest, deep down. He went to his own bedroom and lay down to read a magazine for a while. It was one of those fuck books that you can buy at Times Square. He thumbed through the pages looking for pictures of young girls to compare with Christine. Unfortunately, most of the photographs were of thirteen and fourteen-year-olds as near as he could judge.

One picture in particular held his eye. It was a little blonde spread on a bear skin rug. It reminded him of the picture he had of Christine in a similar pose when she was younger. Here the girl was spread out so that you had a good view between her legs. Her cunt had been shaved so that nothing obscured her swollen pussy lips. She had a large clitoris which she stuck out like a tongue as she pried herself apart with two fingers. Her tongue hung out of her mouth and she had an impish look in her eye. He felt better knowing that there were other adolescents as raunchy as his child. It made him feel good to have his own private pre-pubescent pussy.

The girl in the picture was better developed on top than Christine. But he preferred his daughter's small, firm tits. The best thing about Christine was her ass. It was round and full. He had rarely seen another to match it for softness and sheen. He laid his hand lazily over his dick and began to rub himself to sleep.

He fell into a fitful sort of dreaming. His dick hardened in his hand and he dreamed about finding something to stick it into. He tried a keyhole and then a bottle of soda, but they were both too small. He couldn't find anything that was both the right size and the right shape. It was a frustrating dream and he groaned with dissatisfaction in his sleep. Then he felt a soft warm body appear before him. He couldn't see what it was. It looked like an undefined puff of smoke in his sleep, but he could feel that it was shaped like a woman even if he couldn't see it.

He felt a plush round ass back into his crotch. His hand dove inside it and it was warm and wet. He seized it before it could disappear. He had suffered so much frustration already that he clung to it tightly now and wrapped an arm around its waist before it could get away. He poked the soft cheeks apart with his hand and made room for his hard member. He poked it deep into the crack and kept pushing until he came in contact with the wet hole he had been looking for. He sunk into it like into a cloud. He felt the dream hot and melting around him.

He rocked himself into the soft flesh again and again. He felt his throbbing dick disappearing sensuously inside the nice hot pussy. He never once opened his eyes as he was afraid that this would break the spell. He wanted the erotic sensation to last forever. He clung to the soft form rapturously, moaning at its back.

He felt the dreamy breasts float into his hands and grasped them hard. The nipples felt hot in his hands. The dream was incredibly real. He felt himself filling up a tight wet hole with his prick which felt about ten feet long. The dream pussy kept drawing it out more and more. Rocking away from and making him follow, then slamming back into him with a force that almost awakened him.

He began working it inside the sweet, slimy hole as fast as he could. He felt his passion rise and fall and then flow out of him with his frothing come. He rubbed himself against the pillow of ass and left it inside here where it shriveled and rested on an ocean of warm fluids.

In the morning he awoke to find Christine in his arms. He remembered his dream vaguely and didn't trouble himself over the explanation. He rolled her over on her back and started to repeat the sweet delirium once again. Her warm body smelled of sleep and he rubbed himself up against her until he was rock hard against her soft young flesh.

He kissed Christine on the mouth, feeling her numbed lips with his tongue. He licked the corner of her mouth, tasting the flavor of her lips. Popsy worked his mouth up and down on her'-s, savoring each moment. Popsy loved the way that she felt and tasted. He would never be able to get over the way that she felt.

Her flesh was so warm. There was something almost uncanny about the softness and warmth of her body. Her flesh was resilient, and it seemed to come alive when he touched it. His fingers pressed down on the flesh of her butt, and as he pushed his fingers into her ass cheeks, red impressions arose on her skin. Popsy pressed his fingers onto her some more, and she began to awaken as he rubbed and massaged her..

His body was starting to know their eagerness for her body. All he could think about was taking her. There was nothing in his mind, save for pictures of their honeymoon, which had been taken in his mind, the first time he ever fucked her. He looked at her innocent face, at her simple mind, at her comely ass, and he felt need for her. He wanted to screw her again.

There were times when he was ashamed about the way that he felt towards Christine. There were times when he felt like an ogre, lurking in the deep woods waiting for the children to come alone. There was something wretched about the way he had sex with her. There was something perverse about the way that he made love to her, but then she wanted it so bad. It couldn't be all his fault.

He couldn't take the blame each time that he fucked her, could he? Was he supposed to be the one who had ruined her? What about Christine, wasn't any of it her fault? He told himself that she had not been the cause of it. According to her little story, it nearly seemed as if he had raped her. He knew that this wasn't all true; there had been a certain look in her eye when she had seen his penis. It had not been the long look of a gourmet, but rather the look of a glutton, who had stared at his naked penis, the first time that they had been alone.

She had put out her hand and pulled on his cock, until he felt the sweet ache in his body. He had known the feeling that caused him to want her. His cock had stood erect and firm as she rubbed her fingers over the rosy head of the creature.

He thought about the way that she had made him feel. She made him feel young again. She had erased the years away from his face. She had made the wrinkles disappear and now there were times when he felt like he was thirteen or fourteen. He felt like a kid full of bicycle dreams and rubber ball games. He had been king of the mountain, and would never be able to lose as long as he had his Christine.

She was a wonderful girl. Something about her seemed to be very miraculous, very powerful. She was the magic Christine, capable of rejuvenating old men, of making them feel years younger, and giving them a gratification that they would never know again. She had a way about her that would charm the skin off a snake.

Christine was a girl who could control men, make them do what she wanted. She was going to be a terrible woman when she grew up; she would make men regret her existence. She would make them yearn for her, burn for her, return for her. She would make them bleed for her, greed for her, plead for her. She would make them taunt for her, haunt for her, flaunt for her.

Christine was to become a woman, whose body was in constant demand. She would be kind with those who she trusted, who she busted, who she lusted. She would be good to those she had broken, she had chosen, she had tokened. Men would want her so badly that they would let her control them like puppets.

Popsy saw none of this as he stroked her body. How could he? There was something else that he wanted. He wanted her body. How was he ever to know that he had created a monster? She would be a woman that would take great pleasure in destroying men. She would be a bit of a scamp, a bit of a tramp, a bit of a champ, but most of all, she would be a vamp. She would make men crazy with lust. She would wind them about her finger, until they broke. She would take their money and their pricks, and give them pleasure in return. But pleasure is a temporal thing; its presence vanishes quickly when it is gone, and there is nothing that one can do to bring it back. He may try and recreate that same pleasure, but he will never succeed.

There would be times when Popsy would later realize what he had done, and it would chill him, thrill him, fill him with dismay. He would hate himself for the things that he had done to her, but there would be no way of taking those things back. He would try and think of ways, but it would always be too late.

Now he lay next to her, not knowing what would come in the future and he started to fuck her. He wanted to feel her juicy cunt against his prick. His body was stiff with desire. He was lying next to her on the bed. He rubbed his prick up and down on the soft flesh of her butt. He could feel it affecting his cock. His cock was getting longer and longer. He was getting ready to cram it into her soft-lipped cunt.

He noticed that she was still asleep. He kissed her on the forehead, but she didn't stir. He wondered what it would be like to fuck her while she was asleep. He had a feeling that it would be like fucking a corpse. The thought was chilling, but somehow he was morbidly interested in having the sleeping child.

He turned her over so that she was facing him and now he kissed her on the mouth again. He put a hand on her cunt and he began to rub it. There was no real response from the girl. She muttered a little bit and wiggled her bottom, but that was the extent of the reaction. She didn't want to do anything, but have him fuck her, but she didn't want him to know that.

He pulled her cunt lips apart and he placed his finger between her lips. He moved his finger up and down, stimulating her cunt. He was working his hand up and down on her as quickly as possible. He wanted to get her aroused as soon as he could, so that he could cram his cock into her body. He wondered if she would wake up. He manipulated her pussy some more, and she had not awakened yet.

He was working his hand over her well, letting her know what he wanted to do, but she remained asleep. Convinced that he was going to become a bit of a necrophiliac, he started to mount her.

His cock was pounding between his legs. He could feel the flesh burning intensely with desire. He yearned for the sweet kiss of her flesh, and the burning in his belly would be comforted by the release of the fiery water from his cock.

He rubbed his prick up and down on her slit and then he pulled on her tits. He ran a hand down to her cunt and then he spread her lips apart and put his cock into her. She seemed to stir a bit, and then he began to fuck her. He worked his cock into her body. He shoved his hands underneath her ass and he held it up.

He loved her ass, it was so smooth and fleshy. He loved to feel it against his hand. He thought that she was really something. She was the girl of his dreams, the woman that he had always wanted. She was a raunchy little sex kitten.

Popsy pumped his stem into her poons. She began to wake up. She murmured something that sounded full of love and affection for Popsy. He was giving her satisfaction, something that he had been able to give to few women. He worked his cock inside of her some more.

He loved her very much. She was the most important thing to him at the moment. She meant so much to him. He had never really felt this way about anyone before, never this intense. He really couldn't believe the feeling himself. He thought that it was something strange and awesome, to be so moved by his love for one person.

He pulled on her tits as he banged her pussy some more. She was feeling herself get hotter and hotter. She was now wide awake. She was staring up at him as he fucked her with all of the strength that he could muster. He was thinking about her body and the goodness that she was giving him. She worked herself against him some more.

They were pumping faster and faster. Their bodies seemed to be falling apart. He slipped his hands around her and hugged her for all that he was worth. He knew that he was coming. The pressure was getting more and more intense in his stomach. There was something happening there. Yes, he was getting out of control. There were things surging through his body. Yes, yes, and it was there, coming, so hot and white and good. He was filling her cunt with the hot body juices.

He slipped his dick into her a few more times and then she started to come. She was writhing about on his pole and cramming it into herself as best as she could. Then she came and came and came. Finally, she stopped, and then he kissed her on the mouth. "Come on and get up out of bed, Christine. It's time you went to school."