Chapter 4
Well, he was really going to do it, Tom thought as he idly watched Linda cross the street to his battered old Studebaker. He noticed that her tits jiggled a lot-she probably wasn't wearing a bra, which was unusual for her with her big jugs. She waved to him, then pulled the door open, clambered in and scooted across the seat to snuggle against him.
She grinned impishly. "Guess what?" she demanded.
"What?" He started the engine.
"You remember Bubbles?"
"Of course," he said impatiently. Jesus did he remember her! "What about her?"
"She got sent away to the Maxwell Girls' School today until she finishes high school-almost two years!"
"No shit?!" He was interested now. "What for?"
"She ran off with Bobby for the weekend. God knows what they did, but her parents have a pretty good idea."
"Doesn't take much brains," he noted. They were silent for a moment.
"I don't really care," Linda said seriously. "I just thought I'd mention it. I mean, I'm not worried about Bubbles. Right now I'm more worried about Linda." She pressed herself even tighter against him and pecked his cheek.
"Why don't you blow me off, Bubbles?" Bob Lehman demanded irritably. Tom sniggered. Old Bubbles really had a bad case for Bobby. At 18 years old, Bubbles looked 40 and acted 10. She had stringy, kinky hair, a hard, bitchy face, a figure like a pear, and a vocabulary like a longshoreman. Everyday as mechanics Lehman and Moyes attempted to keep John's Cowtown Mobil Service open with a minimum of trouble and service delay, Bubbles appeared, pestering Bob to distraction and making it hard to work efficiently. Tom didn't care-he found it amusing. It wasn't him that Bubbles was after!
Then there was Bubbles' friend, Linda Brown, a short girl with huge tits who usually waited for Bubbles in the office. Tom had caught Linda staring at him several times- maybe she wanted to give him a knob-job. It was an idea to be thought through, since, unlike Baby Huey Bubbles, she wasn't a bad-looking chick. Tom was always too busy to shoot the shit with her, though. He laid his wrench on the fender of the car he was working on and turned his ear toward the first service bay where Bob was having it out with Bubbles.
"Listen, Bubbles," he said with exasperation, "if you wanna suck my dick, that's okay. Otherwise, I've got work to do, and I haven't got time for all this horseplay. So if you don't want to eat me, come see me when I'm off the clock, wouldja?"
There was a momentary silence, then: "Okay, Bobby," said Bubbles as sweetly as her gravelly voice would permit. "Where do you want your blow-job? On the first pump-island? Wherever, dearest." There was another stunned silence and Tom nearly laughed aloud. He knew that in posing the offer to Bubbles, Bob had wanted to rid himself of his ugly shadow, never dreaming that she might actually take him up on it.
"No ... " said Bob hesitantly. He looked nauseous. "Not there-in the back room."
"Okay." She waddled to the entrance then turned and glared at Bob. "Well?" she demanded. "Coming?" Bob muttered: "I don't even know if I can get it up, much less cum," which Bubbles ignored, but he followed her to the storeroom.
"Watch the driveway, Tom," he said. Tom grinned.
"Sure." He walked slowly to the office, shaking his head in near disbelief.
Linda was sitting in one of the green scoop chairs that his boss had bought for about a dollar apiece, facing him. She smiled as Tom entered. Hmmm, he thought, he could see up her dress ... very nice flowered panties. He leaned on the counter and faced her so that he could keep his visual contact with her underwear. "Do you," he asked the always-quiet Linda, "know what they're doing back there?"
"Bubbles is giving Bobby a blow-job."
"Indeed," said Tom majestically. "It must be quite a sight."
"Mmmm," Linda said indifferently. "I'd like to watch. It would be interesting.
How about that shit, Tom asked himself. That could be arranged. "Tell you what, Linda," he said. "I'd like to see it, too, so we'll watch together. I know just the place." He turned his back to the girl and hid himself in the closet-sized office where he very quietly removed a bulletin board that hung on the back wall. Behind the bulletin board was a rough, gaping hole that had been left when ; John took the air conditioner he had installed out. He I re-entered the main office and beckoned to Linda. "C'mon," he said. "But be quiet." Linda grinned conspiratorially and tiptoed into the closet.
Tom was already crouching on the desk and peering through the hole. There was steel grating hung with inner tubes and various paraphernalia, but there was also a nearly unobstructed view of Bubbles and Bobby. Bob was only just pulling down his fly. As Linda joined him on the desktop, Bob reached into his pants and pulled out his flaccid cock. "Make it stand up, Bubbles," he said rudely. Linda repressed a giggle.
Bubbles took Bob's peter into her mouth eagerly and began slurping loudly on it. When she took her head off for a deep breath, Tom was surprised to see that it was hard. Amazing-old Bubbles had managed to turn his friend on.
He'd never compared hard-ons with anyone else, but Tom was gratified to note that his own erection was considerably larger than that of his partner. Naturally, it wasn't the size ... and all that other Dr. Reuben shit. But most girls liked the idea of being challenged with a big pecker. Maybe that was why he never got laid?
Glancing down at Linda, Tom was glad that she had at least some interest in the proceedings. He saw that she squirmed around as she sat on her heel. She was getting hot! How about that?
It wasn't long before Bubbles finished Bob off and drank his cum. As Tom and Linda clambered down from their perches, Linda leading the way out the cubicle, Tom snaked an arm around the well-built girl and cupped her immense tit. He could feel the hard nipple against his palm, but was nevertheless surprised when he received not a slap in the mouth but a response as Linda reversed her course and returned to the private booth, rubbing her ass up against Tom's leg. He was equally amazed when her dainty fingers reached into his baggy pants and wrapped around his stiffening pecker.
"Jesus," he said, "you really want it, don't you?"
"You'd best believe it," Linda said. She never spoke unless she had something to say.
He raised her dress and pulled her flowered panties down, plunging a hand into her cunt. To his surprise, his third, she not only failed to object to the more intimate touches, but squatted slightly so that her knees were parted and bucked her hips back and forth, rubbing her cunt against his hand. He'd never seen anything quite like this, Tom rapturously thought. In no time at all, he could feel her cunt juice wetting his hand. He reached an explorative forefinger into her hole and found it hot and juicy, wet enough to take a prick, not to mention a finger. She was a quick-warming girl, no doubt about that! He squeezed two fingers into her hole and started fucking her slowly with them. With every movement of his wrist, Linda's hips countered with a movement that brought the two closer. She was riding his ringer as he was riding her. She buried her face in his neck and took bits of his skin into her mouth, wetting it and biting it. He had never been "gone over" there, and it did excite him. Her hands played at the small of his back as she shoved her magnificent jugs against Tom's chest. He hefted the pair inside their confinement without missing a stroke of his finger-fucking. They were heavy-carrying a pair of watermelons like that would have made him stoop-shouldered! After all this, he thought, Linda had better blow him, or he was going to have to sell gas all day with a stiff! Her squeezings on his rod were glorious. He heard stirrings from the back room and quickly disengaged himself from Linda, and the two of them returned to the service bay and leaned against Tom's project.
Bubbles emerged first, walking on air, and wordlessly left the station through the garage door. Bob emerged next, fastening his belt-buckle and whistling. He grinned at Tom and acknowledged Linda. "Finest kind," he said. "Didn't spill a drop." He went back to his carburetor adjustment.
"Say, Bob," said Tom casually,, "would you do me a favor?"
"Sure, ol' pal," Bob assured him. "What can I do? Just name it."
"I wanted to check out the seats in this car here." He pointed to his project. "I was wondering if you would raise me and my assistant up on the lift?"
Bob's jaw dropped. "You mean . , ." He looked from Tom to Linda's globes and back. Closing his trap he said "Sure, you motherfucker," and positioned himself by the brass lift handle. "Work fast, don't you?"
"Yeah," said Linda.
"Watch the driveway, Bob," said Tom, climbing into the back of the family-sized Plymouth and slamming the door. "And be sure to eat your heart out." He leaned out the window grinning triumphantly.
"Sure," said Bob again. "What are friends for, after all?"
Tom divested Linda easily of the loose-fitting dress. Her bra was happy to yield-he felt sure that her knockers must be putting quite a strain on it. With a quick motion her panties were gone as well and she was entirely naked by the time the lift reached the top of its trajectory.
Tom peeled off his Mobil shirt and kicked off his shoes, peeling off shorts, loose trousers and socks all at once. Yummy, Tom exhilarated, looking at the creamy naked Linda. She was as hot-looking as she was simply hot.
As the pairs' clothing lay in a heap on the floor, the pair themselves lay in a heap on the seat. "Okay," said Tom. "Now, as you've probably guessed, I want my blow job." Linda nodded eagerly and took his cock into her mouth. He went immediately breathless with delight. In the course of an average day that offered little but greasy hands and bitchy customers, he hardly expected something like this! Linda sucked hard on him as if his peter was a drinking straw and bordered soon on making him cum. He stroked her body as she lay prostrate on the seat, and twisted a pinky around in Linda's accessible asshole, He took a handful of her jug and squeezed it gently, wrenching its pendulous bulk around. The nipple thrust between his fingers and he tightened them together around it as Linda moaned around his cock, quite a treat by itself. As he held her heavy tit, an idea came to him.
"Hold it, baby," he said. "I've got a brainstorm." He pulled her off of his bursting cock with some misgivings, then raised himself from his seated posture on the bench and leaned slightly over the back of the front seat.
"Okay, Linda. Roll over on your back and stretch out on the seat as much as you can."
"Whatever you say," she mumbled weakly and complied. It was plain that Linda would rather be getting on with it. Well, he thought, she'd like it better when he was finished.
Linda was short enough that she fit on the seat almost perfectly, her heels resting on the armrest. Tom turned around. "Okay," he approved the proceedings, "now I'm going to get on top of you." He reached his leg across her and assumed the 69 position, then moved down her body slightly so that his knees rested on either side of Linda's neck. He sprawled forward, checked the position.
"What's this?" asked Linda impatiently.
"You'll see."
He lowered his hips at last so that he plunged face first into Linda's crack. She got the idea.
"Oh, yes!" she cried. "Gobble it all up!" He arched his torso so that his near-bursting cock squeezed tightly between Linda's mountainous, bouncing tits. As he ate her, lie fucked the valley between her jugs-it was dry, but not bad at all, plus he was giving and getting the extra thrill of having Linda's swollen nipples rubbing against his abdomen. It wouldn't take too many strokes to make him cum. Thank God, he thought, that Linda wasn't wet enough to drip on the seat-the customer would have a fit!
He fucked her with long strokes as he ate her at a contrastingly leisurely pace. Her ass raised entirely off the seat as she jammed it against his face. He prodded at her hole with his nose. Ahhhh, there was nothing like the smell of a good cunt, he thought. There were lots of rancid twats in the world, but Linda's was definitely not one of them. It had a fresh, clean smell to it and a rather sweet taste. Her cunt-hair tickled his nostrils and he laughed into a mouthful of pussy, feeling as he did a rash of slippery juice as Linda came. With a few more strokes, Tom, too, climaxed, spurting his cum across Linda's stomach and his own.
"Let 'er down," Tom called. He was panting slightly from his exertion. He smiled as the car started to fall over the whoosh of the escaping air he could hear Bob muttering "Jesus Christ, some guys have all the luck."
Tom turned to Linda as he fastened his belt buckle. "Well," he said, "it wasn't exactly a blow job."
"That's okay," Linda replied. "I don't go in for blow jobs anyway."
Tom kissed Linda lightly on the top of her head as they drove, at the same time taking a gander down the front of her low-cut sweater. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, he mentally slavered. Whatever else could be said about Linda, she did have a nice set. The pink, tasty nipples were already half-erect and Tom could detect a spreading blush between them that always appeared when she was aroused. Awwwww, shit ... He tore his eyes away, let his foot off the brake, and pulled away from the stop-sign.
"Are you all ready?" asked Linda.
"Certainly." He was indeed looking forward to getting laid. "You'd best believe it," he said with gusto.
"I'm all set, too," she said and sighed. "It's a long drive to your house, though."
"True," Tom admitted. "Why don't you blow me to make the time go faster?" It was going to be a really long drive for him, he thought, because his thickening cock was bending into a pretzel in his shorts, but he hesitated to just reach into his fly and straighten it out. No matter what she did, that fucking Linda always gave him a hard-on!
He was half-joking, and Linda grimaced. "You know I don't go in for blow-jobs." She smiled then-it was a joke between them. Tom shrugged.
"Jack me off, then." He was still mostly kidding, but he hoped that she would grab his cock and get it out of its crooked position. He looked down and saw that she was giving the matter some serious thought. Good, he told himself, beads of sweat appearing on his lip.
He swung the car around the corner at 89th Street There were no other cars out-actually, why didn't she? He was gratified when Linda said "okay."
She leaned over and unzipped Tom's fly, then undid his belt and the top button. Tom almost came out of sheer relief when she pulled his pecker out of its painful angle and over the top of his shorts.
"You naughty boy," Linda teased, "you're already hard."
Tom had never fucked Linda, but he knew from past experience that she did a good job of jacking him off. She had long, finely honed nails that she used to their advantages, circumscribing the knob of his cock and raking an even track on either side of the cord underneath. She plunged a tip into the hole of his pecker and swiveled it around to his exquisite enjoyment. Finally she wrapped her slender fingers around it and, barely touching it, stroked in up-and-down rings, gradually increasing pressure against the pud until she was squeezing it tightly, almost painfully. Tom moaned and closed his eyes, opening them in time to only just avoid a tree. Christ, he thought, he'd have to be more careful! But it felt great to have his peter stroked by a hand other than his own. He wondered what it was going to be like to slip her the dick; how her slippery hot insides would fit around him. The thought and a final squeeze by Linda made him cum.
"Ahhhhhh," he moaned. Linda must have felt him cuming. Suddenly she tightened her fingers under his cock, closing off the passage just as his rushing cum began to rise. His loins pumped twice against the stoppage, then she released her grip to a third spasm that rocketed a gluey gob of sperm to the dashboard of the speeding car. That was a hell of a trick, Tom sighed happily as he dodged a parked car. He'd thoroughly enjoyed that. He looked down at Linda. "Thanks."
"It was my pleasure." She was breathing heavily, he saw, so took a hand off the steering wheel and grabbed one of her lolling breasts. He could feel the almost cock-hardness of what he knew to be immense nipples on proportional tits. She moaned as she stuffed his peter back into his fly.
"Hot, babe?"
"Am I ever!" she said, nodding and squirming her tit against the palm of his hand. "Mmmmmmmm!" she groaned. "How much further?"
"About two blocks," her future sex partner replied. He kept kneading the breast as he rounded the last corner-Thank God for power steering!
In a matter of moments he pulled the derelict Studebaker up in the driveway of a modest house. "Bedtime," he announced.
"When I get you upstairs.... " Linda threatened. Tom laughed.
"When I get you upstairs ... " he mimicked her.
He swung the door open and the pair hotfooted for the steps opposite the entrance. Linda was about to wear him out, Tom thought when he reached the top. He practically had to carry the girl up as she leaned heavily and passionately against him, whimpering slightly.
He was hot again already! He grabbed the waistband of Linda's hotpants and pulled them to her knees. God, he mentally raged, he wanted cunt! She was as wet as a lake, he found as he reached his hand out and ran it through her pussy hair. It was black and coarse, as it was on her head, but very sparse. She guided his hand back and forth over her throbbing clit, grunting at every contact.
"I can hardly wait to fuck," she said. "It's just, not the same with fingers-anyone's!"
An astute observation, thought Tom, though he couldn't complain about the treatment of his cock by her hand. Abruptly she pulled away and raised her pants. "Let me go undress," she said and disappeared into the bathroom.
What the hell? wondered Tom, slightly disgusted. That was a fine howdy-do! Undress in the bathroom ... Christ! Well ... he resignedly did likewise.
He could see why Linda loved his ass, he thought with mock vanity as he undressed inside the door, observing himself in the mirror. He was thin, but not quite emaciated, with little hair on his body except that around his cock. Linda had a bad habit of pulling it. He was tall, with a very curly reddish mop, a narrow face, and a moronic smile. Not a bad putz, either, he complimented himself as he looked himself over. It was five inches long and not but half-erect. You're okay, baby, he framed the thought and kissed his reflection. He scolded himself: enough of that-he had Linda to service yet ... speak of the devil.
"Here I am," she announced.
And there indeed was the naked Linda Brown. She was short and a little on the skinny side herself, but definitely nice. Her hips were narrow but still pronounced below a thin waist which, in turn, was below ... Jesus, what a pair! Linda had without a doubt the biggest pair of tits that he had ever seen in real life, or in Playboy or Caper or anywhere else. She was really stacked! They sagged a little, he noted, but how else could they hang? They'd have to be filled with helium not to. The nipples were three full inches across, though the dividing line between breast and cap was hard to distinguish because the blood-pink color of the puckered centers faded by stages to match the color of her smooth knockers. The caps were of an inconsistent texture and had a crumbly-rubbery feel to them as Tom gently ran his fingers over them. He could feel them quiver, as though they wanted to reach out even further than their points already thrust.
"Come on, Tom," Linda urged. "Let's fuck!" He needed no second call.
She backed toward the twin-sized bed in the corner of the disordered room, sat on it, then raised her feet to the sheets and leaned against the wall. She parted her thighs and opened her pussy to Tom like a Chinese fan. The broad pink lips glistened with juice, and he could detect the slightest trembling of her excited clit. He swallowed hard. He wanted to dive in, he thought, and paddle around in the swimming, swampy crack. Linda pointed to her twat and said "Kiss it, Tom." She loved to have her cunt eaten almost as much as he liked to eat it.
He went to his knees in front of the bed, as if he were saying his prayers. Oh Father, he vowed, bless this meat which we are about to receive! He practically toppled into Linda's pussy to her accompanying sob of delight; lapped at her clit-pearl like it was the world's tastiest lollipop, drawing it between his lips and sucking on it hungrily. He then abruptly reversed the effect and blew out between his pursed lips into the parted petals around it. At this, Linda gasped loudly. Tom looked up quickly and saw real tears on the girl's face. "That's so great ... " she squeaked. "Don't stop!" It was, Torn thought happily, the farthest thing from his mind.
He moved his operations lower, around the splayed opening of her hole. The rim of the opening was darkened and inflamed-God, she was really wanting it! He treated the tight ring to rough dog-laps that brought Linda's delighted knees crashing against either side of his head, spreading again and then bashing against his skull once more.
"Sorry about that," Linda said sheepishly. "Quit, now, baby." Let's fuck! I mean, really fuck."
She twisted on her ass and stretched out on the bed as Tom climbed happily between her thighs. He positioned his cock eagerly, placed the tip against the opening, then pushed. God almighty, he wondered, what was the fucking scoop? It barely slid in an inch, and was so tight that he could hardly move. He shoved with his full weight and it slipped in the rest of the way. He started pumping in and out with difficulty, yet felt less resistance with every stroke. He'd heard of tight cracks, but this ... Wait a minute ... could it be ... ? "Are," he began, then changed his mind, "were you a virgin, Linda?"
She grinned and nodded. "Yes," she admitted. "I used to be."
Omigod! He'd initiated a busted cherry. He might have pondered the matter further, but at that moment his climax welled up inside him and he sprayed Linda's pussy for the first time with jets of cum. He felt like he was christening a ship, or something, though he'd never heard of a ship being christened with cum.
He smiled and kept pumping, taking one of Linda's tactile boobs in his mouth and manipulating the tip as he had her clit until he saw the sharp inhalation of breath that invariably preceded her orgasm.
Tom rolled slowly off and lay beside her, contemplating his navel. Well, he thought, he'd actually done it. He'd really fucked her. After all the hand jobs and muff-diving, he'd actually germinated some virgin soil. How about that shit? Linda rolled onto her side and propped her head on her elbow.
"How bad?" she asked.
Tom grinned and looked over at her. "Not real bad," he said. "But don't undress in the bathroom. It loses a little of the translation!"
"Okay," she vowed. "I promise I'll do better next time."
"That's good enough," said Tom and pecked her forehead. He felt her hand on his cock, felt it getting hard again. Next time was going to be very soon.
Melissa Gurley glanced down at the gas gauge of the battered station wagon and swore softly to herself. Son-of-a-bitch, she thought, the car was not only running empty but the red needle was sweeping the negative space to the left of the "E." Damnit, she silently cursed. She didn't like picking up supplies anyway, except for the opportunities that it afforded her to ... ogle the cock in town. But she especially hated it when she had to put gas in the car as well.
Oh, it really wasn't all that bad. Most of the girls at Maxwell had it a lot worse. Melissa had a sort of "trusty" status that allowed her out of the school to run errands-things like her present assignment of picking up school supplies for the other girls. The school loaned her the "company car", a beat-up station wagon with torn upholstery, paid for the gas, and occasionally slipped her a dollar for making the trip, which she could always find a use for. Sometimes, though, they were awfully inconsiderate about leaving the tank dry.
There was little actual need for money at Maxwell, so consequently she seldom had any. It would really be a bad deal if she were to run out of gas and money both at the same time.
She knew that there was the remainder of a personal five-dollar bill in her purse, after the payment of the exorbitant $2.65 price of a copy of Sun Circle nudist magazine asked by a Seyville news dealer. Jesus, she thought, some of those nudists were really hung! She saw a service station on her right-a Mobil. She turned in and made a bee-line for the premium pumps.
"Can I help you, ma'am?" asked the. attendant. Melissa gleaned from the embroidered patch on his shirt that his name was Tom.
"Er ... yes, Tom," she said. "Two dollars worth of Premium."
"Yes, ma'am." He bowed slightly and stuck the nozzle in the neck of the tank, then wordlessly started to clean her windshield. Mmmmmm, she thought, it almost made her horny to watch him, though it seldom took much to make her horny. It was almost like a ballet the way he cleaned first the passenger's side, then her own with only a dirty towel, a few drops of water and some elbow grease. She watched his buttocks move as he walked and wondered carelessly what he looked like naked. Pretty good, most likely, she guessed. She idly glanced down at her lap.
Hmmmm. No wonder it was taking him such a long time to do her side. She hadn't been very modest in the position of her legs as she waited for him to finish. Her plaid skirt had ridden a long way up the tops of her thighs, and her knees were probably 6 inches apart. Tom could see just about all there was to see!
She looked at the attendant's midsection with amusement. Why, he had a hard-on! He gave the windshield a last swipe, then turned his attention to the gas nozzle.
Tom's didn't seem to be a bad-sized cock. It definitely made her hot to look at the obvious bulge in the boy's trousers. She figured Tom to be just a little younger than her 19 years. Maybe he'd like to fuck? She hadn't had a cock in quite a while. It wasn't, after all, that Melissa was any better-behaved than the rest of the Maxwell girls; she only lied to her higher-ups better. The more she thought about it, the more the perversion of the idea appealed to her. Tom came around to the window.
"Two dollars, ma'am," he said. She handed him the two bills.
"Let me have a cash ticket on that, too," she called as he walked away.
"Sure," he replied agreeably. Melissa watched him surreptitiously getting an eyeful as he walked around the front of her car.
As soon as he was out of eyeshot, she hiked the skirt up over her waist and pulled her panties off altogether, taking, as she did, the liberty of feeling herself out. Crimenni, she thought, she was hot as a pistol! She pulled her skirt down and resumed her former position behind the wheel.
And just in time, too, she noted-Tom was on his way back across the driveway with the receipt.
She smiled prettily at him when he came alongside. She kept her knees closed at first, but then as she took the receipt spread them with mock carelessness. Tom's eyes almost fell out of his head.
"Why ... " she asked innocently, "what's the matter, Tom?"
"Nothing ... " he mumbled, scarcely containing a drool. "Nothing at all." He paused. "Er ... let me get that windshield for you. I see a streak." He dashed for the windshield bottle and a towel.
Melissa snapped her fingers. "Oh," she said with exaggerated recall, "I know what it must be!" She reached under the seat, withdrew her panties and dangled them in front of the boy's face. "I had to take these off to scratch myself you-know-where." She was so coy that her suggestion would be obvious.
Tom's face was a comical caricature of disbelief. It was all she could do to keep from laughing. "It doesn't itch now, Tom," she said, her voice dripping with sugar. "Maybe you'd like to put them back on for me?"
"Sure," the attendant jumped at the chance. He was regaining his composure. "Corns in the back room and I'll help you out."
Melissa nodded and opened the door, giving him a good view of her bare cunt widespread as she stepped out. It felt good to stand, she thought-besides which, she was dripping onto the back of her skirt, and grease made such a. terrible stain! She took Tom's arm and allowed him to lead the way to the back room.
"How do you like your panties-juicy?" he asked conversationally.
"Hot," she said.
"How do you like getting fucked?"
"With a cock and as often as possible," she replied. Tom, too, apparently decided that there wasn't much more to be said.
The back room was rather rusty and messy, but it would do. Tom spread three fender covers end-to-end to cushion the hardness of the concrete, then said "Hold it just a second." He ran to the office. As Melissa waited impatiently, removing her shoes and socks, she heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door, then the sound of switches being clicked one after another. She saw the driveway lights go off and quietly praised Tom's good sense. They wouldn't be disturbed. She was as horny as a nymphomaniac in the Jets locker room. Damn, she thought, what was taking so long?
Melissa admired confidence, and Tom seemed to have it. The moment that he reappeared, he dropped his pants with a single motion and stepped out of them. He stripped off his drawers and pointed his fully-erect cock at her like a gun. "Bang! Bang!" he said. That, Melissa thought, was just what she had in mind.
Oh, God, she was hot! Her cunt practically throbbed as she undressed. She wanted to rip the clothes from her body and hop into it, but miraculously restrained herself. She wouldn't want to get duty-she was going to have to get back into school somehow. She didn't want to lose her "trusty" status.
She popped off her brassiere and dropped her skirt at last, leaving her suddenly and dazzlingly naked.
She was just a little heavy, but she knew that she looked good enough to get fucked as often as she wanted. She was mainly a big girl all around-nothing about her seemed out of proportion. She had broad hips and a slight bulge at the abdomen that tapered from one side to a flat stomach and from the other to her pussy. Her flesh was smooth and very white-she seldom bathed in the sun. Her tits were yummy-looking, medium-sized bulbs that did not sag but rather hung liquidly with turned-up nipples varying shades of pink and widely spaced on her chest.
Her face was oval and clear, set with large brown eyes. The eyelashes were thick and surrounded her eyes darkly all the way around and made them appear even larger than they were. Innocent was a good description. Below a button nose, a grin as high as it was wide showed even teeth with one flaw-one of the lower teeth had been broken and crowned with silver, lending a literal sparkle to her expression. She closed her smile, though, to lick hungrily at her lips as she looked at Tom's cock and imagined where it would be very soon-in her cunt. She was creaming all over herself at the prospect.
Maybe because of her cute pot, her cunt seemed tucked by special order between her legs. The crack was thatched well with lush brown hair that lay flat as though it were combed. When she was as hot as she was, her pink insides expanded and forced themselves wetly out, leaving discernible tracks on her panties-when she was hot and wearing panties at the same time, a rare occurrence. The crack was broad and her capacity adequate for any cock she had ever encountered; sometimes the fit was even a little loose. But then, there were remedies for that. Tom knelt down by the fender covers.
"Well?" he asked. His cock dangled between his legs like a tasty sausage. "Let's get down to fucking."
"Uh, sorry ... " said Melissa, coming out of her reverie. She started to kneel by the fender covers with the horny attendant, but suddenly spotted an inflated inner tube in the rack over her head "Hey, Tom," she said brightly. "I've got an idea!"
"What? I've got a few ideas myself."
"Get the inner tube." She pointed to the rubber donut.
"What?! Are you insane? ... Well, okay," he said. Melissa only gave a guy pussy if she got her way, and he must have sensed it. He rolled the tube out.
"Good," she said. She took it from him and lay it on the floor, then lay back on it, her shoulders on one bead and her ass on the other, her legs drawn up to her neck. "Okay, baby," she said. "Melissa is hot to trot and all set!" God, if she didn't get a cock soon, she was going to go nuts. She was glad she'd stopped for gas!
"This is crazy," said Tom, but nevertheless mounted Melissa and slid his meat into her needy hole. He lay on top of her and allowed her to wrap her legs around his neck as he started a hard, hard fucking that bounced them a little across the floor with every stroke. If they had been on the floor, Melissa knew, the velocity of his strokes would actually have hurt her. But it was a real kick in an inner tube!
"Yippeeeee!" she yelled, her snatch reverberating wetly and audibly. "Ride-em, Cowboy!"
"I hope," said Tom between strokes, "that you're about to cum, because I sure am." Melissa held out until she felt the blasts of his cum against her insides, then came not once but twice as Tom continued to fuck her. With a last thrust, he bounced himself off and onto the floor, where he stretched out on the cold cement. He looked comfortable, so Melissa did likewise. The cold did a lot for her afterglow. There was no hurrying her.
In a quarter hour, Melissa drove through the first Maxwell guardhouse. Tom had snipped some wires around the headlights then spliced them again so that it would look as though he had been working on the car, thus she could account for the half-hour that she had spent fucking. She dropped the station-wagon off, then returned late to her hall.
"Ruthie?" she whispered.
"Mmm?" Her friend was drowsy.
"I've got a story to tell you. Listen to this ..." She related her account of the evening's fucking, then turned her back to -undress. She heard the sheets rustling behind her as Ruthie's hand found her cunt. Christ, she thought, that girl would never change!