Chapter 9
They strolled back to the soda shop. Myra's body was aching from five screwings, but she felt exultant that she had completed that much of her self-appointed task of building up the "Escape Hatch" fund. Connie looked smug. She had fucked Joe twice he had really been horny and Cullen had paid her a dime to use her body; a cheap reassurance of his manhood.
Sep French saw them coming but he had eyes only for the slim, provocative figure of Myra swaying along beside Bill Jennings, now her committed squire.
Bill was already calculating his assets with an eye toward future assignations, and envisioning a possible private session. Maybe even in a bed somewhere. The elements hadn't yet worked out but he was confident it could be arranged. He swaggered with the grandeur of his plans. A whole afternoon in bed with Myra! That would be something. Really something!
And Sep French had his plans. He already had cash available and a bed in the back room.
And that kid! Cripes! Took on five louts in one afternoon and looked as fresh and unspoiled as if she had been picking daisies. What a kid! And what a screw she must be! He determined to make his play this very afternoon. While she was hot from those five screwings.
Myra waved good-bye to her escorts and went into the soda shop so Connie could spend her unexpected dime. She felt no resentment that Connie should spend it all on a soda for herself. She could have had a soda, many sodas. Instead she preferred the more filling, more satisfying knowledge that she had added to her "Escape Hatch" hoard.
While Connie was noisily slurping up the soda, Sep French beckoned Myra to the back of the store. Fearful that some disaster had befallen her hoard, she sidled back into the darker corner where Sep French lurked.
Sep's approach was so circuitous she almost missed it, what with worrying over the hoard, but she soon put together his references to a bed, a dollar, and a bonus, which he added hurriedly, of a double-dip chocolate ice cream soda.
She pondered his proposition, gnawing at her lower lip. She was tired. Four screwings and one partial in an afternoon were wearying, but then a whole dollar to go into her hoard! The soda was no particular temptation. She could wangle sodas from her various escorts as she needed them. But a whole dollar!
While she was considering, Sep French nervously upped his ante. "A dollar and a half."
Myra paused again, considering. That was the equivalent of six screwings. And Sep French, though plump, was not so gross as Uncle Ben and probably has no larger dong. She looked up, daring all for the sake of the hoard. "Two dollars."
Sep winced. That was the price of the woman who came to see him at irregular intervals. A grown woman. But this child had something a lovely calm face, a slim body carried elegantly, and a local reputation as being a remarkably adroit and satisfactory lay. He nodded. "Two dollars."
"Now?"
Sep gulped. He hadn't really hoped for her compliance. These little floozies were all too often oddly loyal to their small coteries of friends. Again he nodded. "Now."
He motioned her back of the curtain that screened his living quarters from the shop. Myra surveyed Sep's quarters. They weren't as neat and bright as Mommie's little apartment, but neither were they as grim and sordid as Uncle Ben's house. And the bed was smooth and neat. She sighed. It had been a long time since she had been in a bed . . . a neat, clean bed. She was standing before Sep's collection of calendar art, nudes mostly, of lush proportions, comparing their attributes with her own, when Sep returned.
Sep stood in the doorway a moment, surveying her small, trim little figure and licking his lips. Myra turned, her small breasts thrust out, her little pelvis tucked in, her stomach flat, smiling at him. Sep gulped and came forward, reaching for her.
She came into his arms willingly and let him fold her close against him, feeling the heat of his body, the , swell of his crotch against her. And the strange alchemy of her own body reacted.
She moved her little hips sideways, stirring desire within herself and kindling Sep to wild excitement. He humped at her and still himself, running his hands over her slim little back, down to her little rump. He caught up the hem of her dress and hauled it up, running his hands over bare flesh, eliding them around until he touched her breasts: His breath whistled in his throat as he lifted her dress, thrusting her a little away from him so he could see those perfect little titties.
"You want me nekkid?" And Sep's inarticulate gurgle and nod, she raised her arms. Sep slid her out of her dress as she wriggled her panties and let them drop, standing before him, her soft pink flesh glowing, her amber-pink nipples already hard and erect.
Sep stared at her breasts and let his eyes drift down to her little cunt, hairless and already swelling with her unconscious response.
"Lord, you're beautiful!" he gasped.
He stood for so long, just drinking in her slender loveliness, that Myra grew uncomfortable, wanting to hide her breasts, cover her little cunt But she stood rigid, arms at her sides, letting him look.
Then he moved slowly forward, reaching out and cupping her breasts in each hand, fondling them, his eyes glazed with desire. Myra's body was answering these moves, exciting itself into receptiveness. And because he was gentle, almost in awe of her slim beauty, the excitement was more, intense and Myra moaned.
He kissed each breast and ran his tongue around each stiffened nipple, setting new fires going within her. She writhed and twisted herself until her body was plastered against his, her pelvis moving to rub her cunt against the bulge of his pecker.
He reached down, cupping one hand under her small rump and lifted her, raking her nipples against the cloth of his shirt, so that she sighed with the fresh excitation. He carried her to a big lounge chair and sat: draping her legs over an arm, resting her shoulders against the other, gloating over her small perfection.
One hand played with her breasts and the other ran slowly over her stomach, down to her pelvis, tracing the little creases between leg and stomach, and finally down to cup over her hot little cunt. These were refinements Myra had never known and they thrilled her body into slow, rhythmic churning, so that she rubbed her small bottom against the bulge of his pecker.
Sep moaned and slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her up for a long, hot kiss. Myra wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled herself tighter, her breasts crushing against his chest, her mouth pressed tight on his. Her legs were sliding open, letting his hand explore deeper in her cunt, one finger starting a gentle tattoo against the moist, hot lips. Myra's body moved and twisted with this new excitation, writhing as if she could drive that finger far up her cunt.
Sep released her shoulders and laid her back across his lap, bending down to slide his tongue from her bellybutton on down, teasing along that sensitive crease, down along the inner side of her thigh and then back, slipping down into the slit of her cunt, teasing her clitoris.
This was all so new that Myra's body was reacting violently, already pouring juices, heating to improbable degree inside. A moan escaped her as she thrust her pelvis up to meet this strange new instrument of pleasure.
Sep picked her up, one breast crushed against him, and carried her to the bed. He laid her on the bed, and she looked up at him pleadingly, silently begging for kindness, gentleness. He stood a moment, just viewing this miniature perfection and then slowly began to unbutton his shirt.
He lay down beside her, his prick at stiff salute, and rolled slowly toward her so that his prick tapped against her leg. With a soft, whimpering cry she turned toward him, letting the prick slide between her legs. She could feel it there, big, stiff, throbbing. And she could feel one small breast pressed tightly against his chest.
He kissed her once, gently, then fiercely before he rolled her onto her back, her legs falling willingly open. He knelt between her legs, an arm braced on either side of her and started his approach on her cunt. She could see his pecker, long and hard, with a blueish red bulb like a tap. It was big. Very big. And she felt a moment of panic, praying to Mommie, asking her not to let her be hurt and promising the hoard would grow.
His bulb touched her slit, moved tentatively, then punched into her, sliding over the moistened lips and inside. It stirred the inevitable excitement in her body as it moved up and up in slow, short thrusts, with Myra's pelvis moving to meet each one. Until it was buried to his pelvis in her, and the bulb was farther up her than any of the boys or even Uncle Ben had gone. It didn't seem possible but she could feel it exploring new and highly exciting areas far up her.
For a long moment Sep stayed like that, his prick buried deep in her, only a slight quiver of his pelvis, a bare movement that thrilled and excited her body. She thrust her little pelvis up, trying for, one last bit more of that delicious prick.
He started a slow, rhythmic series of withdrawals and thrusts. And Myra's body answered with thrusts of her pelvis, with small sideway movements that made his prick touch new areas of flesh far up her, bringing intensified delight and excruciatingly wonderful tensions. She could scarcely breathe, catching gulps of air as he pounded at her.
There was that moment when he suddenly stopped, holding all motion while his pecker swelled and throbbed inside her and then that final thrust as they exploded together in wild delight, writhing and moaning, as hot semen flooded her and her own juices spurted in hot response.
Then it was over. Sep sagged above her, his head drooping as he breathed heavily, chest heaving. Very slowly he moved off her and fell at her side, murmuring vague endearments. Myra shuddered, pulling her body into a tight ball, whimpering. She had been fucked. But she had added two dollars to the "Escape, Hatch" hoard.