Chapter 4
After the concert, Christopher, somehow tense, drove the car into the Hollywood Hills. He followed the curling, residential streets to their accustomed parking place. Lisa was silent beside him, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to worry about that The radio's blare covered the silence and immersed them in electronic rhythm. Christopher could not help but pump slightly at the gas pedal
He turned off the car's engine by a flick of the ignition key. The car's radio went off with the motor, and they were left to confront each other. Christopher wrapped his right arm behind Lisa's head and pressed the fingers against the skull's base. His mouth drilled against her wet lips.
The tongue invaded the soft wet chamber. The orifice was narrow and her tongue thick. It tasted, he thought somehow sweet. Her lower teeth gnawed at his hp. His right fingers moved to scratch at the back of her head through the thick, blonde hair.
His tongue drew through the furrows of her lips as she moved her head to one side. His hand pushed away the thatch of pale hair that covered her perfectly formed ear. His tongue moved through the trail. Her breathing instantly erratic from even, heavy from soft. Nothing excited Lisa more than this wet caress. He grazed the terrain with the edges of his front teeth, then bit the lobe gently and kept it in the vise.
He released the flesh as he put his hand to her breast, imprisoned in a stiff brassiere. His tongue raced hard across the outer ear. Her breaths were almost guttural bursts. The fingers folded in around the starchy hillock under her blouse. The tit moved in his palm. His thumb worked her diaphragm while his mouth moved to her neck. He sucked in at the soft, thin skin and left the indentations of blushing color where the teeth had been.
Christopher reached under the jersey top. Both hands pulled the straps of the bra closer together so that the hooks came undone. The large pears rustled against the fabric. Moving from her side, he cupped the left breast in his hand. Her nipple was hard. He pushed it inside the breast itself with his thumb and rubbed it so hard that they could hear the friction in the silence of the car, even over their rapid breathing. Lisa moaned at the pressure, and in answer Christopher felt a squirt of blood move inside his prick.
He took Lisa's hand and led it to the stiff clump at his crotch. Unsteadily she moved her palm over it, the fingers only slightly bent and hesitant all the while. Slowly they crept away when she felt her obligation completed.
His left hand moved first under her top and then under the sagging bra. He had only to fondle the nipple for a few seconds before it sprang to life. Both of his hands pushed the jersey toward Lisa's neck above the slope of her breasts, and he put his mouth to the diamond-cap of her left hillock. He whipped the pudding texture of the nipple with the edge of his tongue. The lower teeth jammed hungrily into the underside of the girl's breast.
As his mouth opened and closed around the generous mound, his hand probed under the hem of her short dress. An advancing index finger poked at the labial folds hidden beneath the cotton panties and then beneath the cunt hair. He flicked the folds back and forth from the incision itself. His forefinger moved under the flap that covered the pubic area and buzzed the clitoris. He bent the finger at its second joint and moved it inside the hole.
His left hand wrenched at the waistband of the underpants. The right hand moved down and pulled the fabric against her flat stomach. Lisa arched her spine and raised her buttocks from the seat of the car. The heels of her shoes dug into the car's rug. Christopher pulled the now-limp garment past her knees. His hand was free to explore her privates.
The index finger pushed inside the twat. His bent forefinger pressed against and into the slight eruption of the clit. The rhythm of the two fingers came closer together; in a few strokes they were twin prongs of a single assault.
Once deep inside, the index finger moved against one wall, then pushed at the box's other side. He moved his hand outside of her. The finger was coated with her sweet film. He pushed back. Lisa sighed in time to his fingering, and his hand punched at her stomach as she rose to his thrust. She imitated the pace of the manipulations with her hips, pumping off the seat of the car.
Christopher kissed the girl lightly and ran his tongue, serpent-like, inside of her mouth. His left hand pulled at the zipper of his trousers. His weapon had pushed itself from the flaps of his briefs, and the muscle poked out erect. Lisa gripped the flesh more anxiously now. She squeezed it hard enough to obstruct the flow of blood inside.
His arm grew tired and Christopher jammed the thin bone up inside the canal. His force was greater, rougher, but Lisa's anxiety welcomed the new violence.
He turned his hand so that it was the thumb that whipped the clitoris. The whole arm came down, the single finger as its warning. The thumb scraped over the pink surface of hair-lined skin.
Christopher withdrew his hand from the damp chamber. He put his moist right hand to Lisa's left breast. The tit had melted, but now he ran his forefinger's nail over its perfect ebony. His lips puckered and pulled at the skin of her neck, and he sucked at the tissue. His left hand moved through Lisa's hair and scratched at her sweat-rinsed scalp.
She rolled the foreskin away from the glans and brought it past the purple ridge. She wrenched the layer of covering fast up and down the pole. His phallus still in Lisa's hand, Christopher moved his hips and aimed the organ at the girl's moist vagina. But Lisa bucked and grabbed at his upper arms. She started to push him away. Christopher was strong enough to resist, but he knew well enough the patterns of advance and retreat. Letting himself be half off, he whispered into Lisa's ear. "Let me just hold it against you, there," he said, and he listened to her heavy breathing. Her eyes were shut, and she bit her hp.
Taking her silence for consent, Christopher positioned the head of the organ over the crack. His own gash rustled over the tangle of hair. He brought his hips back and then shoved forward lightly, careful not to push inside the furrows of the outer lips.
Lisa took the stem midway and held it stationary, but the pressure just served to excite Christopher. He pushed forward and this time entered just past the lips, stretching the aperture and forcing a stifled scream from Lisa.
Once inside, the head alone covered, Lisa did not object. Christopher did not stir, trying to hold the position, and afraid to break the hymenal membrane.
Christopher looked up through the car's front window, now fogged with their hot breath. He reached down and prodded Lisa's button with his stubby forefinger. She rolled her stomach under him and groaned. "Please," he pleaded, "please." Lisa opened her eyes, clouded with hunger. A pause, and then she turned her head from side to side.
The pain of holding back passed through Christopher's stomach like the stabbing of a knife. Gingerly, he pulled the cock from Lisa's sopping hole.
As he left the crevice, his penis brushed against the thick blonde-brown hair, and he pushed the meat into her stomach. The sweet release came in bursts of white fluid, spraying on the surface of the teenager's small, white belly. His fingers still played, now even more eagerly, with Lisa's clit, and he felt her writhe underneath his weight as she shoved her crotch closer into and inside his hand. The underside of his prong continued to slide against her belly and covered it with semen. His hand pressured unsparingly at her parts and drove her to the climax that came just as his own subsided. The motion of her stomach as it pumped the climactic rhythm forced the last few drops of pearl-juice from the cock.
In the aftermath, Lisa began to cry. Christopher cupped her head in his palm and brought her lips to his. He was soft, and his tongue moved over her full lips. He kissed her gently on the cheeks. "Don't cry, Liza." Buzzing her neck, he added, "Please."
She smiled at him, through the puddle of tears. Tm sorry, you know how I just get silly, sometimes." She paused, inhaling deeply. "You know I want to. It's just that I-I can't."
"I understand," Christopher said, but he could not conceal the disappointment in his voice. He kissed her again, and wrapped his tongue around hers. His penis, covered in its own white soot, began to rise. He grabbed her ass-cheeks in his hands and squeezed the flesh tightly.
He dragged the half-solid cock over the surface of the beaver. The friction forced it to hardness. He opened his mouth wide and tried to stuff all of Lisa's right breast inside. The tit grew instantly hard and stirred at the back of his mouth. The cone's tip pointed to the throat.
Christopher reached to her knees and pulled the panties back toward her waist Knowing what was expected of her, Lisa raised her buttocks while Christopher replaced the undergarment and covered her genitals.
She relaxed, and let her hips press down onto the seat cushion. Stiff, Christopher aimed the cock at the hidden vagina. He rubbed the prick over the entrance, and the clitoris inflated. At first Lisa was passive, but as the moments wore on she grabbed the flesh at the side of the boy's waist and squeezed tightly, urging him on.
His hands cupped under her thighs and spread her legs like the twin forks of a wishbone. Christopher moved his hips from side to side and hit the mesh of hair and external flesh like a paintbrush. Lisa dug her nails into the small of his back. She pumped her own stomach toward his prick and scraped the cotton of the panties against the head, from which a few drops of dog-water had escaped.
His fingers curled under her thighs and pressed into the insides of the hollows. His knuckles brushed the curly pubic hairs.
"Oh... oh... oh...." Was she coming so quickly? Her soft moan ended with a gasp. She shoved her twat against the head and grabbed it just under the glans, her hand squeezing hard. Her nails cut into the purple line. He felt his penis fill with the glue, and he let himself jam the cock at the soft patch of flesh below the cotton. He was frantic, violent, delivering himself of the orgasm as she smashed her groin into his member. The juice spurted from the head, but he only ran on to drive the spike to its obstructed destination.
Lisa's mouth opened so wide that he saw the beginning of her throat. She held her breath as she sometimes did when coming, and tried to stabilize her body as the pulse of orgasm filled her. Her eyes closed, but through the closed lids Christopher could read the rapture of completion.