Chapter 15
Peggy relaxed against him, feeling one leg slide down between his, touching the bulge of his prick through the cloth of his trousers. And moved slowly around, so that her bubbie was more convenient to his mouth.
He was kissing one and gently caressing the other. And one hand wandered vaguely, as if he wasn't sure just where to put it. Peggy took it gently, guiding it, without seeming to, so that it dropped on her leg. She moved it slowly back and forth until it was moving in a rhythm of its own, caressing her thigh.
Peggy sighed. Yes, this man was a very satisfactory pupil. And very exciting things were beginning to happen down in her cunt. She slumped a little just as his hand was making its upward journey, pushing it right up to her panties. She regretted briefly that Jim had not let her slip them off. But Ken was doing all right. His hand slid over the panties, cupping her little box, molding it with his fingers. And one finger slid under the edges of her panties, actually touching her pussy, sending shivers of delight through her stomach. She arched up, easing pressure on her panties, so that they would slide down at a tug. And Ken tugged. The panties slid down, pinioning her legs but freeing her little box.
Ken's hand was on that, moving lightly over it, walking his fingers across the lips-and smiling. He was caressing a female's pussy! And that of one who found him attractive, who was helpful in maneuvering his hands where, by logic, he knew they should go.
Peggy freed herself a little and undid the snaps on her dark skirt. It parted at the belt and started to slide, revealing more of her little stomach, the round, pink flare of a hip. She wriggled and it slid lower, so that she could look down her front and see her mound and the edge of her slit. And Ken's hand was entangled down there, between half-mast panties and a partially dropped skirt.
Peggy turned, whispering in his ear, "Let me stand up, and I can step out of 'em..."
Ken released her, watched with wide, shining eyes as she slid off his lap and shook herself free of the encumbering skirt, stepped out of the panties, and sighed leaning against him, naked. And waiting.
He reached for her, one hand cupping a bubbie, the other sliding between her legs, moving caressingly upward in slow strokes toward her hot little pussy. He bent forward and kissed her bubbie, and, finding a hardening pink-amber nipple between his lips, mouthed it, running his tongue around it.
Peggy gulped, started to withdraw and then thrust it hard against his mouth. She caught the wrist of his hand on her leg and moved it up, hard and tight on her box, knowing that the lips were opening, that she was already exuding juices. And he could feel them. He could feel the heat he was creating down there.
He dropped his hand, slid it under her little round ass and pulled her on to his lap, gloating over her nudity, eyeing it with growing hunger.
And there was nothing wrong with his pecker. Peggy could feel it throbbing within his trousers, anxious to get out, so it could slide into her hot little box.
Recklessly she unzipped his fly. His pecker, still encased in jockey shorts, bulged out. She let one leg fall across it, rubbing as she turned to press a bubbie against his jacket.
"Don't you want to take off your clothes? Then we'd both be naked." It sounded so innocent and hinted at so much. She slid off his lap, reluctantly surrendering the excitement of hands on her bubbies and against her little cunt -in favor of greater excitement later.
Ken's fingers fumbled at the buttons of his shirt but she brushed them aside, helping him with the mechanical care of one who has done this a hundred times-as she had in getting her drunken grandma to bed. He slid out of his jacket and shirt, half standing to working his way out of an undershirt.
Men! Peggy was scornful. They encumbered themselves with layers and layers of clothes that were awkward to get out of. Women were much more sensible. And practical. Being able to get out of clothes quickly and easily seemed immensely practical to Peggy.
Ken stepped out of his trousers and wriggled free of his jockey shorts, standing naked before her. And his pecker was stiff, ramrod hard, and erect, quivering in front of her. And there wasn't anything peculiar about it. Maybe it wasn't quite as large as Jim's, but it was long. And the bulb was already pulsing with blood. And shiny.
Ken Robertson looked down in mild surprise at his own dong and then at Peggy, reaching for her. He drew her slowly toward him watching her face rather than her breasts and little hot box-which had really caught fire.
It was still new to her in spite of her assumption of familiarity with sex. And it frightened her. She pulled back a little, glancing up at him pleadingly. "Not here. Please! Please! I'll pose but I can't just-fuck. It's posing, you know. Only posing. When it's in front of the camera."
Ken nodded. Jim had mentioned this peculiar hang-up of this kid... and what it meant. God, he couldn't estimate what this meant to him. To possess a female even a child-woman such as this. Or maybe especially such a child-woman, so gloriously nude, so magnificently-right.
Without considering that they might look a trifle absurd, even a little ridiculous, Ken took her hand and they strolled naked into the studio where Jim had positioned lights and cameras.
Peggy blinked at the brightness of the lights, squinting around, trying to locate Jim. Instead his voice came from over by the lab. "The cameras are on automatic trip. Every ninety seconds. I'll be in the lab. Have fun, kiddies." And shut the door.
Peggy stopped, frowning, trying to decide whether she regretted that Jim would not be watching her pose with Ken or pleased at the sense of privacy. Ken tugged at her hand and she moved forward, suddenly eager for the posing to begin, eager to feel Ken's long, slender prick riding up her cunt...
There was an awkward moment when they stood beside the bed, neither seeming to know quite what to do.
Ken sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "I feel like a fool, Peggy. A grown man-having to ask 'What next?' He looked down at his prick, riding high and quivering. "I knew what happens-there. But the in-between..."
Peggy stood by his knees, wondering a little herself. And then it was easy. She leaned over and kissed him, tenderly at first and then into what Jim called her hot kiss, letting her bubbies rest against Ken's chest.
One hand went behind her little rump, cupping a buttock, and Ken pulled her on to him. Together they rolled on to the bed and lay there a moment, side by side, Peggy's bubbies brushing at his chest, his hand still lingering in a caress on her cute little derriere.
Ken's hand moved softly, roving over her little rump, starting fires anew, setting her cunt to dribbling juices that would make it easier for his dong to slide in and ride way up her. And her breasts were already swollen a little and the nipples hard and erect. Ken bent and kissed one. Peggy moaned and pulled him closer, her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulder.
Under the glare of lights their bodies were washed white and it took time for her eyes to adjust to the brightness, to see color, the pinkness of her flesh, the warm tan of his-from careful sunlamp treatments. Not that it mattered. Sight was fine but feeling was paramount. Feeling took over.
Her breasts ached for pressure of his body against them and she moved, thrusting them at him. His hand, roaming across her buttocks, slid between her legs and reached her cunt from the rear, exciting them both. Their bodies writhed, twisted together and fell apart, seeking a connection.
Peggy's legs seemed to open of their own accord, offering him free access to her body. Ken was a little awkward but he slid one leg over hers and then climbed inside the V of her legs, his long, slender prick aiming at her cunt. She could sense it was open now, the faintly pinkish lips of her box folded back. Her tunnel open- and waiting.
Ken guided his prick up against her hot, wet box, either accidentally or with great wisdom holding it there, teasing her clitoris with it, until she could stand the suspense no longer and moved her pelvis, humping up to meet his prick. The bulb slid in in one ecstatic movement and her cunt closed on the shaft.
He paused again, giving himself and Peggy time. And then slowly drove into her cunt. Backing off a little and driving again. And Peggy helped, moving her pelvis, riding upward on her little rump, thrusting at him.
Propped on his elbows he looked down at her intent little face, her half-parted lips moving slightly to the quick, short breaths. Her eyes intent on some far away day dream of which this was the reality. He craned down and kissed one of the breasts slowing the motion of his pelvis, then picking up the rhythm.
They swung together toward climax, Peggy's breath whistling in her throat, a soft threnody of sound, infinitely sad, infinitely happy. And Ken was gasping for breath, gulping words that were a curious blend of prayer and curse.
The tempo built. Far up her tunnel-he did have a really long prick-it was a fleeting thought-the bulb was pulsing. Then a deep pulse ran along his shaft and burst from his bulb in a hot, creamy spray far up her.
Peggy writhed, twisted, slammed her little pelvis up against the root of his shaft-and then went limp as juices exploded up her tunnel, as she herself reached an orgasm-though she wouldn't have known it by that name.
Her hands that had been digging into his shoulders fell away, lay limp at her sides. Ken sagged above her, his head drooping to fall beside hers. He was whispering in her ear. "Oh, my darling, my darling! You have given me manhood. You have given a glorious gift... my own manhood."
Peggy smiled faintly and turned to kiss his cheek. She wasn't quite sure what he meant but it sounded sincere-deep gratitude. Well, she was grateful to Ken, too. It had been eminently satisfactory posing.
Ken rolled to one side as his prick slid out of her cunt, and they lay there, side by side, savoring the last few minutes, each in a dream world exclusive and private.