Chapter 1
Joe Vogel looked down at the golden triangle of pubic hair as Marty spread her legs wide, draping one over the back seat of the car. He couldn't see her face too well in the dimness, but he knew the expression she would be wearing: triumph and greed. She was a hot little bitch, and it was hard for him to remember that she was only two years older than his own daughter, Cindy.
He got on his knees on the floor of the back of the car and began to lick the inner thighs of Marty Wells. There was a hunger in him that only this hot, young nympho could satisfy. Marty had it all—the body, the desire, the wantonness of a cheap whore, and Joe was at the point that, if she didn't give in all the way pretty soon, he'd rape her!
She raised her head so she could watch him as his mouth closed on her vagina. His tongue slid in between the soft, wet lips of her tight pussy, probing the hot inner parts until it found the erect little knob of flesh. His tongue tickled it, then began to rub against it in a forward and back motion, as he felt her whole body tremble with passion. Joe slid one hand underneath his chin and began to probe the inner depths of her cunt with his finger, enjoying the shuddering response that he brought from the little sexpot.
Marty gazed down at him hungrily, automatically reaching down with one hand to cup the back of Joe's head, guiding the rhythm of his tonguing of her clitoris. Her eyes shone in the dimness, like those of a predatory night animal. There was a thirst in her expression, yet a look of triumph, just as Joe knew there would be. She had let him get this far before, and Joe had news for her: tonight, he was going all the way! He had the key to unlock her cunt in his coat pocket. Blackmail was the word for it.
She had insisted that he give her the charm bracelet with the gold giraffe on it, that belonged to his wife, Georgia. Marty had wanted it from the first time that she sensed that her lush young body was an effective weapon to use in her war with the world. At first, Joe had refused. He had given the charm bracelet to Georgia on their first date—a trip to the zoo, where he had bought the bracelet and the first of the golden charms.
He concentrated on working the little bitch up to a lather, his tongue gouging deep into her tiny lovebox, until she began to buck and roll with his motions, making low moaning sounds in her throat, like a bitch in heat that has chosen her mate.
"Suck me good, Joey—suck it, suck it until I come!" Marty moaned. Joe continued sucking and licking, keeping the pressure on her clit until he knew that she was about to explode, then he withdrew his finger and his tongue from her hot, moist cunt.
"All the way, Marty," he said firmly. "I'm going to fuck you tonight—now!"
She sat upright and glared at him. "You've got the bracelet?"
For an answer, Joe reached into his pocket and came up with the charm bracelet, and its single token—the golden giraffe that gleamed in the moonlight.
"Oh, Joe!" Marty screamed in delight, grabbing the trinket from his hand. "You did it! You got it for me!"
She fondled the tiny golden animal as if it were a precious treasure, and, to Marty Wells, it was. It was the symbol of Joe Vogel's surrender and of her triumph over his wife, Georgia.
As she gloated over her victory and its emblem, Joe slid his swollen cock out of his pants. It was hard and erect, and he skinned the loose foreskin back a couple of times, anticipating the ecstasy that would be his when he slid it into that golden-matted cunt of Marty's.
He moved closer and began to rub the end of his cock against her cunt lips. He knew that it would be too awkward in the back seat of his car, and he didn't want this spoiled by anything. He had waited too long. She had tormented him for weeks, and now, she was going to get the fucking that she'd been asking for!
"Let's get out on the grass, baby," Joe coaxed. "I want this to be good for both of us."
She hardly seemed to hear him, but when he opened the car door and got out, she followed him quickly, still grasping the shiny trinket in her hot hand. She laid down on the grass in a matter-of-fact way, as if she were used to being fucked like this—and maybe she had been, Joe thought as he watched her slide her miniskirt up around her navel. Her pants lay on the front seat of the car where he had dropped them ten minutes ago.
The moon made her hair glisten with a golden luster, and as he positioned himself between her legs, his stiff prick in his hand, Joe thought incongruously that everything about her seemed golden—even her passionate desires.
He rested most of his weight on his knee and one elbow as he fumbled nervously with his prick, penetrating the outer lips of her vagina. He could feel her jump involuntarily as he allowed the head of it to go in deeper, with more of his weight behind it. She spread her legs wider then, as he entered almost to the hilt, she gasped and wrapped her legs around his hips. She put her arms around his neck and began to kiss him wildly, their bodies fused together.
Joe pumped in and out, each thrust leaving him weak with the joy of her demanding response. He began to kiss her mouth, his tongue flicking in and out of her open one, warring with her tongue, sucking it into his mouth. Marty began to mumble wildly as he increased the pace of his thrusting, throbbing prick in and out of her vagina. He wondered vaguely who had been the first to taste this lovely sex machine. He knew, by her experienced movements and by the ease with which his huge cock had penetrated deep into her womanhood, that it hadn't been him. Yet, she was still tight, the walls of her cunt creating a friction that caressed his cock from head to root.
"Oh, Joe," she mouthed, her words half smothered by his kiss, "fuck me good! Give me all of it! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
Her wanton words and the rhythm of her body against his put Joe into a haze of passion. He forgot the time and the place. He forgot this was a mere child he was having intercourse with. All he knew was that beneath him was a pulsating, alluring bundle of sex, and she was responding to him with a fervor no other woman had ever displayed.
"You're the most wonderful fuck I've ever had," Joe moaned. "Wonderful, sexy, beautiful Marty! Fuck me hard, baby—fuck me with all you've got!"
As they approached orgasm, neither could control the bucking and shivering of their bodies. They joined in a noisy slapping of stomachs, their mouths slavered and obscured the words so that only the moans were audible. Joe had managed to slip his hands under her ass-cheeks, and now his nails dug deep into the soft, hot flesh of her ass, pulling her sharply against his pelvic region, allowing his cock to penetrate to the depths of her throbbing cunt, while massaging her clitoris constantly with the in-and-out motion.
Suddenly, as she felt his hot juices enter her cunt, Marty let go, her whole lower body convulsed in a series of rapid jerks as she exploded in a violent surge of ecstasy. Joe let his emotions govern the action of his body, and his ass bobbed up and down quickly, gradually slowing to a rhythmic halt. He lay quietly atop her, breathing hard, thinking of the fullness of his emotions, the utter satisfaction she had given him in the past few moments. But most of all, Joe thought: What now? What can I do without her?—Or with her, for that matter?
"Was I good, Joe?" Marty asked, breaking his troubled train of thought. He kissed her mouth tenderly and replied, "You're the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me, Marty."
"You were wonderful, too," Marty said dreamily. She raised her arm so that the moonlight reflected from the gold bracelet and the gold giraffe. "I'll never forget this night." Her voice was husky, and Joe was conscious that his prick was beginning to harden again as it soaked in the love juices that both of them had deposited inside her cunt.
"There'll be lots more," Marty said, her eyes still on the memento on her wrist. Joe burned with desire, and her words, which he understood to mean that there would be other times like this for the both of them, gave him a warm glow. It flattered his ego and made him feel much more a man than Georgia did. Georgia had hardly any interest in sex anymore. She had grown cold, and even when he did have intercourse with her, she lay so unmoving and unemotional that she made Joe feel as if she were merely enduring it—almost as if she were performing a wifely duty, or, perhaps, doing him a favor.
As his prick began to swell and distend, he felt Marty stir beneath him. She was rolling her hips about, rubbing the walls of her cunt against his demanding manhood. But Marty wasn't thinking of Joe, nor had she meant that there would be other times with Joe Vogel, like this night of lust. Oh, she would let Joe fuck her again, no doubt, but what Marty Wells had meant was that there would be other charms added to the bracelet, or perhaps other, more expensive reminders of nights like this—with many others.
In spite of her faraway, dreamy thoughts, Joe's insistent hard-on rekindled the desire in her, and she dropped her arm and gathered his shoulders in both her arms, moving her pelvic area in a slow, provocative circle as Joe began to increase his thrusts rapidly. Marty's clitoris throbbed into a second orgasm quickly, long before Joe was able to achieve climax, and after her third, she lay quietly, while Joe finished his orgasm with a great deal of effort, as he sensed that he was alone in his needs at that moment.
He crawled off her, took out his handkerchief and wiped off his prick, then tossed the white cloth away. He looked at her open pussy, glistening with their juices as she spread her legs and relaxed completely in the wan moonlight. An uneasiness came to Joe.
"Do you—do anything, Marty? I mean—to keep from getting pregnant?"
She laughed shrilly at his question. "You mean, do I douche, or anything like that? Don't be silly. I've been taking the pill for almost a year now."
Joe wondered how she had gotten a prescription for birth-control pills, but, as he looked at his wrist watch, he reflected that Marty Wells could get most anything she ever wanted, from men. Anyhow, she had relieved his mind, for he had been vaguely frightened while he was fucking her that he might impregnate her. Four kids were enough of a problem, with a cold ass like Georgia to sleep with. Joe Vogel didn't need any more problems.
"It's pretty late. Georgia will get ideas if I'm not home in a few minutes." As he said it, Joe knew that his wife already had ideas. She had questioned him severely as to why it always took so long to drive the babysitter home. Joe had gotten by with the explanation that he had had to stop and buy her a hamburger and Coke, or that he had stopped in to see if there was anything her sick mother needed.
It had quieted Georgia, but it hadn't fooled her. He knew his wife's suspicious nature too well for that. She didn't approve of Marty Wells at all. Georgia said she was too "bold and brassy," and that she was a walking keg of sex dynamite. Well, Joe reflected as he straightened his pants and shirt, she was sure right on that score. Marty was one of the best lays he'd ever had.
Marty got up and brushed off her skirt. She held out her wrist, admiring the bracelet. "You're nice, Joe," she said.
He grabbed her impulsively and drew her to him, his lips finding hers. She didn't respond very enthusiastically, but the feel of her tiny breasts against his chest, and her pelvic area shoved tight against his still throbbing cock, made up for her lack of ardor.
"Again soon?" Joe asked, through a kiss.
"Maybe. We'll see."
Joe sighed and released her. "Let's go, baby," he said, climbing into the car and starting it as she got in on the other side. In the lights of the dashboard, Marty was holding her wrist out, examining the charm bracelet, and the tiny giraffe.
Joe thought, as he watched her from time to time on the short ride to her house, that she was still a little girl at heart, in spite of the fullness of her sexual nature. When he pulled up before her house, they didn't even kiss goodnight. She climbed out of the car and headed up the short walk. Almost as an afterthought, Marty stopped and turned, waving her arm and pointing to the bracelet with her other hand.
"Oh—thanks, Joe," she said. Then she whirled and ran the last few steps to the low porch and disappeared into the darkened front room.
Marty flipped on the light in her bedroom. She had heard her mother call weakly from her room at the back of the house, "That you, honey?" Marty had given her usual laconic answer and hurried into her bedroom, just off the living room.
She took off the bracelet and admired it again. She looked at the rounded surface of the name plate, frowning at its emptiness. Tomorrow, she would take part of the five dollars Joe had paid her for babysitting that evening, and have the initials engraved: M.W. from J.V. That way, she'd never forget.
She placed the bracelet on the stand beside her bed, and the last thing her eyes saw as she flipped the switch on the bedside lamp, was the golden image of Joe's giraffe, the first item in her collection of sex reminders.
She awoke to the buzzing of the alarm beside her bed, and as she opened her eyes and reached to shut it off, she spied the bracelet. For a long moment, she just stared at it, remembering the evening before. She jumped out of bed, her lithe young body a work of art as she quickly donned panties and bra, then a blouse and miniskirt.
Marty washed carefully and donned makeup, then stopped at the door of her mother's bedroom. She looked in at the dim figure lying so quiet. The shades were drawn so that the night seemed to still linger in her mother's room. There was impatience in her voice as she asked, "What shall I bring from the store on my way home?"
"Whatever you want for supper, honey," her mother's tired voice replied. "Be a good girl and have a good day."
Marty nodded absently, her thoughts already far away from the dying woman on the bed. She picked up her purse, tucked a five-dollar bill inside, and dropped the gold bracelet in on top of it. She'd stop at the jewelers on the way home.
Already, in her agile mind, Marty Wells was planning the next addition to her collection. She was humming a bright, lilting melody as she stepped out into the bright sunlight and headed for school.