Chapter 2
That June I turned thirteen and had my first period. Mama explained that it was the price of a woman's joys and the mark of her maternal capability. It took me a long time to become resigned to it, though it helped to think that Mama was right and now I would be able to find some kind of fulfillment. Maybe this was the missing element, the lack of which I had felt with Bill.
Triumph accompanied the curse, though, and lightened the new burden. Two things came together one night as I cuddled between my parents on the couch.
I was fondling my stepfather's half-turgid member as we talked. It was so much smaller in this condition that I thought it would fit my mouth much better, and so I bent my head to his lap and sucked it in between my lips, farther indeed than it had ever been before. My tongue found its soft and nubbly consistency intriguing, the loose end of the foreskin rather like a wad of chewing gum slipping around between my tongue and teeth, the veins pulsing gently, but I wasn't able to enjoy it for long. As I toyed with it, it began to grow, swelling to fill my jaws till I nearly choked. But as it grew, I was able to find a position of my mouth, an angle of my jaws, that held it comfortably, a knack that has ever since remained with me.
My tongue twined round him, caressing the head and its encircling ridge, probing the miniature slit that tipped it. I slid my lip-shrouded teeth along his length, massaging him so delightfully that he had to push my head away, exclaiming, "Ah, Penny, that's good, but we can't go on. I'll be no good at all for your mother if we do." For the first time he had felt that tight, warm recess working on him, and his words were painful to us both, for he looked truly anguished at having to stop, and I wanted to go on, to finish my First real meal.
"Don't get impatient, John," said my mother. "She may be getting pretty good, but if you'll just get on with her exercises, I'll take care of you." She didn't look too unhappy at my progress. I think that the sooner the lessons had become unnecessary the happier she would have been.
He laughed. "Don't worry, Harriet. She isn't ready to finish me off yet. She's got a lot of stretching to go."
While he was talking, he drew me over his up-raised tool and held me hovering at its tip, the delicate, grazing touch sending a shudder of delightful anticipation through me. Mama parted my downy lips, guided it into my snug harbor. As I felt it begin to press its way into the channel I wriggled, trying to force my way down upon it.
"I don't know about that, Papa. I feel real big tonight. Maybe I can do it." I smiled, pressed my small breasts against his chest, feeling the rigid tips pressed back into the fleshy mounds, and kissed him lightly on the lips, rotating my hips on his sturdy pivot.
"Not very likely." He hugged me, gripped my hips and snugged me down upon him. "I'm only half way in and it looks like we're stuck."
"Just a minute, Papa." I was beginning to feel the pressures building as my frictions stretched the folds. I felt him lining up with my still unplumbed depths, felt my weight begin to tell. "Just a minute. There, there we go ... Ahhh." I rose, kept my angle, slid down and felt the momentary hesitation pass before my conquering plunge. For the first time I felt him touch bottom.
He groaned as I constricted my muscles in joy at the accomplishment, and my mother exclaimed, dimly heard through the pounding of my blood and the panting of my breath, "She's done it! You're almost out of sight, John!"
Her fingers, as they investigated the extent of our connection, brushed against my engorged nubbin and excited me even further. My responsive squeeze brought another groan from dear Papa, who, loath to quit my snug confines, so much tighter than my mother's, proposed that he reward me for learning my lessons so well by continuing with me to the end.
Mama, thinking perhaps of my earlier experiences with that oaf, Bill, didn't want to agree, but gave in when she saw my effect on her husband.
Hardly waiting for her agreement, I raised myself upon his impaling spear until I hovered at its tip. I hung there a moment, enjoying the quavering thrills shooting up my spine, before relaxing my legs to slide joyfully down its wonderful length, stopped only by the blunt and throbbing impact on my womb.
As Papa gasped, shuddered, and gripped my hips in his delight, my mother tore one of his hands away and pressed it to her bushy nest, crying out, "This turns me on too, you know! At least you can try to make me happy." She threw herself back upon the couch and spread her thighs as widely as they would go, pressing his hand to her all the while.
As I continued to bounce on Papa, his fingers began to work on her, massaging the folds of her labia, dipping into the lubricious fluid of her well, pinching and rolling her clitoris, bending his head, with a sudden furtive look, to kiss my nipple, briefly sucking. I squeezed and bounced and he fell back, his jaw falling open in parallel with Mama's as her eyes glazed in response to his probing fingers.
His frenzy grew; he began to meet my bounces with his own thrusts, finally seizing me with both hands and throwing me down with my head by my mother's knees. He lost his penetrating hold on me only briefly, and, as he thrust again into my depths, his head dipped into Mama's frantically curvetting crotch, seized her with his teeth, changed her sudden leap to an urgent drive against his face with the noisy lapping of his tongue.
I soon had no mind for anything else that was going on, as I felt the. intense burst of pure sensation spreading through my loins. I vaguely felt that I was screaming, and, though the sound seemed doubled, it didn't matter at all to me. I knew only that there was nothing wrong with me.
Our movements stilled then, and it was some minutes before I could move and see again. When I could, I found that both my parents were still in their faint. I lay there, beneath my stepfather, awaiting my chance to get up, enjoying the warm feeling of his engine of joy withdrawing as it shrank and was pressed from the channel of my love by my fading spasms.
I think that Mama must have wanted Papa to herself, for, now that the goal of the years of lessons had been reached, she permitted only a few more sessions. Occasionally I was allowed to carry things to their natural conclusion, and I'm sure Papa would have preferred it more often, but she insisted that too much would be bad for me, since I had had so little experience. She must have conveniently forgotten Bill, because he had given me plenty, and I didn't really think more would hurt me.
Never before had I known such joy. Bill hadn't been large enough or good enough, and Papa was. This deprivation made me very randy. Between the rare exercises and watching them in each other's arms, I was driven to improve my digital technique, and I learned the use of my fingers better than ever.
Mama noticed this, and, hoping perhaps to divert Papa's attentions back on to her as well, suggested that it was time for me to join them with their friends in an orgy. She explained to me that this was an occasion of general abandon, with an opportunity to share the talents of several men and watch them with several women. She promised it would be an educational experience. I think she expected that seeing me in another man's arms would make my stepfather want me and love me less.
Little did she know that I had already watched them in the yard and was pantingly eager to join them. I had told them about Bill, but not about where and when we had met.
Accordingly, it wasn't very long before they invited three couples they knew in Bucksport, about an hour from our small village near the coast of Maine, to come down for a weekend. The week before the event, Papa stocked up on liquor, while Mama prepared several dishes that could be served cold. She didn't want to have to take much time out from the orgy.
I helped as much as I could. It wasn't much, I'm afraid, for I was as nervously expectant as any society debutante before her coming-out ball.
On Friday night we cleaned up the house and spread our extra mattresses on the living room floor with plenty of cushions. Papa explained that this would make us much more comfortable later on. We would be able to just grab someone and lay them right on the floor, without having to go find an empty bed.
After everything had been arranged to satisfy their critical eyes, we went to bed. There wasn't any contact between us, since we all wanted to be fully capable the next day.
The first couple to arrive the next morning was introduced to me as Jim and Sarah Phelps, both of them in their early thirties, a little younger than my parents. Sarah was a lovely redhead with swelling breasts quite plainly unsupported by a bra. She didn't need one; they were firm enough to tent the cloth out over her nipples, the fabric stretched at the tip, leaping the gap to the smooth slopes of the fruity globes. Her thighs were heavy in proportion to the rest of her, though not so heavy as to make her look awkward. She blushed slightly when she learned that I was to be initiated into their circle that weekend. Jim, a slightly heavy man with large pores and a bulbous red nose, looked very interested at that news, and I could see his pants bulge as he looked me over.
My father was pouring drinks for them when the others drove into our driveway. These were Bob and Betsy Jamieson, both in their late twenties and an attractive couple; she was a slight blonde with small breasts and slim thighs, but with a very restless look about her; he was a tall, dark-haired fellow with the strong controlled look of an athlete; and Charles and Carrie Mathews, an older couple, into their forties, with a look of profound boredom about them, as if they had seen nearly everything and only continued to live because it was too much bother not to. I'm sure they took great delight in their few pet activities, but their appearance prepared me for the future to some extent. People so bored with life would need strong games to hold their interest.
Carrie was a mousy haired, heavy woman,-with sagging breasts and stockings and a small paunch overhanging her crotch. He was the image of the corpulent executive-big-gutted, though not gross, wheezing from the exertion of climbing the steps to our door and from too many cigarettes (he was rarely without one in his mouth or hand), and with the red veins showing in his jowly cheeks.
The usual greetings were soon concluded while my stepfather mixed their drinks. As he handed out the glasses, he said, "Penny's old enough and ready to join us. This'll be her first orgy, though I hope it won't be her last. Here's to her future, may it be one full of joyful loves!" Here he raised high his glass, and, as the others followed suit, drank before going on. "In spite of the age difference between her and us, I think it best if this weekend she use all our first names. All right, Penny?"
Call my parents John and Harriet? It seemed strange; in spite of all our intimacies they had always been rather formal with me, but...."All right, John. How about you ... Harriet?"
"I think it's best, dear. But only during the orgy, hear?"
"Hurrah!" cried Charley. "Now we can get down to business. We ain't here for a tea party, you know." He immediately began to shuck his trousers, eagerly hauling his legs from their casings, peeling the shirt from his flabby shoulders.
Harriet, as I'll call her from now on, quickly imitated him, getting to her feet and reaching to the button at the throat of her blouse.
"Yes, let's get comfortable now. It is pretty warm." There was nothing graceful about my mother when she was stripping, but nevertheless the men stared, especially Charley, as he liked to be called. He licked his lips, practically drooling, and paid nearly no attention to the others as they undressed. Harriet may have been more attractive than his wife, Carrie, but she looked like a cow beside the other two.
The best looking one of all was Sarah Phelps, her well rounded ornaments riding high on her chest, released from the weight of the cloth, tips standing perkily forth, lyric hips framing a well-furred love nest, a jutting invitation presented to the room as she self-consciously posed her body, summoning the spotlight to drown the shadows of shame, or so I thought at the time. I had been looking forward to this orgy. I had expected to find what I had been promised: lots of fun. But now that I had seen the people and their faces, heard their words, I was beginning to sense a tragedy behind the party. There was a sense of desperation in the air, and everyone was trying to prove something.
Sarah didn't seem to be any too happy with the situation. She plainly wanted to be someplace else, perhaps with Bob. She was eyeing him blatantly, though she wasn't alone. He was easily the most handsome man there, but I could see that she would get him. He was eyeing her too.
My father, or John, probably ran a close second to Bob, though it's hard for me to say, I loved him so dearly. He was clearly better looking than Charley, who would have closely resembled a naked garden slug if it hadn't been for his tan, so deep and dark it must have come from a sun lamp. A Maine summer's sun isn't hot enough or long enough to give that kind of a tan, and I knew he hadn't been away long enough during the winter. The orgies had been too frequent.
John's body was firmer than Jim's, and his face was much handsomer. I noticed that he wanted Sarah too, but could see she wanted Bob, so he turned his gaze to Betsy.
As these pairs were sorted out and each moved closer to his chosen partner, I saw Jim eyeing me. He seemed uncertain of his ground however, and turned to Carrie, not looking very happy with the leftovers.
I still wasn't sure of my part in this business and hadn't yet undressed. Bob noticed me standing off to one side, drinking in the scene with curious eyes, alone and wondering, and beckoned me over to him and Sarah.
"You're a little timid, aren't you? I was too, my first time with this bunch." I didn't say anything, just looked at him and nodded.
"Well, even so, you can't just stand around watching like this. You'll make everyone nervous. Let's get those clothes off, okay?"
He drew me close and began to unfasten my clothes. I found his gently caressing touch exciting, writhed slightly, turning slowly beneath his hands. I was much happier to have him notice me than I had been under Jim's lecherous eye.
Sarah soon joined in. She had sat beside us, watching, her hands knitting in her lap in sympathy with Bob's awkward attempts at my clothes, until finally she had to horn in, helping him with the more difficult fastenings. She had an intimate and probing hand, and together they explored my body, from the just-budding breasts, with their absurdly sensitive nipples, to the light fuzz between my thighs. Their excitingly roaming touches ceased only to let her sigh as she ran her hand through the long softness of my light-brown hair.
John interrupted this. He strode over, a glass in his hand. "Penny, would you like to join us in a drink? If you're going to join the orgy for real, you might as well go all the way."
Jim and Carrie laughed at this; Charley snorted and even Harriet giggled.
I grinned, suddenly shy as I was reminded of the audience, but I took the glass he held out. He told me it was a daiquiri. It was very sweet and sour, but good. Looking back, it seems to me that it was awfully strong, but then it was my first drink ever.
I sipped it carefully, not quite trusting it, until Charley laughed and said, "That's not the way to drink it, girl. Down it fast, like a glass of water, like this!" He downed his own drink, so quickly that he choked.
I still wasn't sure, but I did take larger swallows, and it wasn't long before my glass was empty. The one drink was enough to make me begin to feel a little light-headed. I sat still a moment, my head to one side, all eyes upon me, feeling the first edge of the buzz that comes with too much too fast.
John took the glass from my hand and refilled it. "You'd better take it a little easy, honey. You're not used to it yet. It's potent stuff, especially at first."
The warning made me feel a little defiant. They'd said the same thing about sex, and I'd never felt any harm from that, even if I had had more than Mama would have liked. I'd do what I liked; I'd drink just as much as I wanted. They weren't going to tell me what to do!
I sipped at that drink and another for the next two hours while I listened to their conversation. They discussed the past and planned the next two days, promised what they would do to one another, with one another. I watched them fondle each other more and more freely as drink flowed through their glasses and passion grew. Hands wandered and flesh tautened to goad the party.
My own drinks were making me feel very free, and I wished that Bob would offer to caress me some more instead of staying with Sarah, but I'm sure that every other woman in that room was wishing the same thing.
Time passed in a slow haze of contentment, of growing desire for Bob, of increasing impatience to see the orgiastic antics at closer range than ever before.
Eventually Jim asked, "When's lunch? I'm getting hungry."
A coy grin settled on Harriet's face as she canted up her pelvis in reply. "I can get it any time you want, but you know the drill. The hors d'oeuvres are on the house." I was sure she didn't have to go through that for them; she could only have said it for my benefit. The others must have been familiar with any rituals observed at their orgies.
Jim got up and walked over to her to kneel before her widespread thighs. "I think I'll just have a bite. It's a pleasure."
She nearly fell over when he applied himself to his task, briefly nibbling her proffered treasure. When he'd finished and she had regained her balance by propping her behind against a table, the other men each took a turn. Before the end of this parade she had collapsed, writhing, to the floor, forcing the last devotee, Bob, to prostrate himself over her.
Meanwhile, John was being served similarly. He didn't come, as my mother had, so, when the women were done, he beckoned me and said, "Penny, we can't leave you out. You do it, too, and show these cows how it's done."
Obediently, though I grimaced, I knelt before him, took the swollen organ, moist with the saliva of the three women, scented with their lipstick, tobacco, liquor, and his own distinctive odor, wrapped my mouth about him, and did as I had done before. My tongue and lips diligently sucked and kneaded, kissed and pressed, while my fingers toyed with his ball-sack, gently pressing the weighty fruit, tickling that sensitive area behind it, stroking him up to a climax.
He exclaimed over this as if I were indeed the only one who knew how to bring a man joy. "Ahhh! Wonderful! Delightful! Ohhh!" I kept on, working to evoke the rippling contractions of the muscles that presage the climactic gusher. They came, and I milked his rigid pillar, stroking on, encouraging the rush of fluid. I welcomed its emergence and milked on, trying to extract those last precious drops, waiting for his surrender.
"Enough, ahh, enough, Penny! Don't take it all! I've gotta save some for later. Leave me a little." He pushed me away, peeling my clinging arms from his thighs, withdrawing with a slurp from my clinging jaws, leaving my desires only slightly satisfied. I still wanted to feel the plunging reamer that he, and maybe Bob, could wield so well.
"There, you guys, how's that? Maybe she'll do it for all of you too before the day's much older. If you're nice to her, that is."
A chuckle made me turn to see Charley panting, eyes aglow, ready to grab me and carry me off, Jim looking lustfully impatient, and Bob, for whom I would have gladly done it and more besides, looking interested.
Harriet's return from the kitchen with plates of cold cuts and bread for sandwiches, with beer to wash it all down, interrupted the quiet tableau. We all turned to the food, me, with a silent sigh of relief. We made a quick lunch, and then went out in the back yard to soak up some sun and wallow in each other, as it turned out.
When blankets had been spread on the grass and everyone had stretched out beneath the sun, I picked a spot next to Bob and Sarah, hoping to attract his attention.
They lay side by side, her ankle over his, toes entangled, one hand resting near his flaccid member, the other shielding her eyes from the brassy glare of the sun.
As I lay down, she propped herself up on elbow to look at me and said, "I'd like to know what's so special about your technique, honey. John certainly liked it. What the hell do you do that the rest of us don't? Maybe I can use it."
She looked at Bob then, and her last words faded as her head turned. My own eyes followed hers longingly. She didn't sound very jealous, even though she did seem to have some proprietary interest in him. "I just kinda pay attention to him, that's all." I paused. "If it's all right with Bob, I'll show you how I do it."
He didn't say anything, just spread his legs, grinning a little shyly, not wanting to admit he wanted such a young girl. When Sarah didn't say anything either, but moved a little away, that was all the encouragement I needed. Maybe an orgy could be fun, after all.
I rose and kneeled between his outstretched legs. As my hair swept over his belly and gathered around the furry root, I could see his shaft enlarging, its throbbing just beginning to become visible. It wasn't so large as John's, but that made it all the easier for me.
I took it in my hand and kissed the tip, letting my tongue stroke the sides, gently at first, then with more force. I tickled the indentation near the tip and its little slit, forcing my slender tongue tip into it the small amount that was possible.
His eyes closed; his lips parted, and a moan escaped, his hips twisting slightly back and forth in response. Gently, I drew his spearhead more deeply into my mouth, felt his slippery slide along my palate, stroked its underside with the flat of my tongue, pressed it with my cheeks as I sucked. I felt that I could keep it up forever; the flavor and texture of him filled me with delight, and it made me ecstatically happy to see how he was enjoying it. Indeed, it made me truly sorry when I felt him tense and the fountaining essence of his manhood filled my thirsty mouth. I swallowed, kept on sucking till I had every drop he could produce and he made me stop. His nerves were too sensitive in the aftermath to take any more.
When I raised my head to look lovingly on his depleted body, my gaze was caught by the audience we had attracted. My father, alone, stood to one side, detached, watching his daughter's debut. The rest stood closer, their bulging eyeballs prickling, reddening my skin. I had thought they were busy.
Jim broke the silence by stepping eagerly forward, his long thin pole bouncing before him. "It's my turn now! Jesus, am I ever turned on!"
I recoiled, but tripped over Bob's ankle, extended behind me, where he still lay as I had left him. Jim seized me by the wrist as I fell and pulled me to my feet against him. He threw his arms around me, pressed his liquor laden mouth to mine.
I couldn't respond. His sudden lustful advance left me cold, but he didn't seem to care. His tongue filled my mouth, invading every crevice, while his hands insinuated themselves between my buttocks, into the entrance of my womanhood, shriveled in fear of him, and under my armpits, in unceasing rotation. He lowered me to the ground, stilled my struggles with his weight, forced my thighs apart, tweaked the budding tips of my breasts with his lips.
Moisture lingered, but excitement was gone, and he gained entrance readily enough, though I accepted him without joy. When his thin rod penetrated me, I was surprised into a sudden convulsion by the slender litheness of his organ.
Its supple action whipped me into a froth, drove me in spite of myself to a paroxysm of ecstasy, made me nearly break his back with the pressure of my arms and heels. I found it terrifying that a man, once installed in his saddle, even though by force, could so excite me that I could find myself enjoying the ordeal. This was my first experience of this sort, and all the future held for me never diminished the terror engendered by the approach of joy in the most unlikely situations.
My spasms only drove him on to such faster action that he finished long before the peak of my climax. As he withdrew, panting, leaving me in unallayed lust unwillingly aroused, he remarked that I was surely the tightest lay he'd had in a long time, and the most active. It occurred to me then that, with an organ like his, he would have to find a tight woman to get much pleasure.
Hardly was he off me than Charley, obviously aroused to the point of raging lust, hurled himself on my now receptive form and thrust his more commonly built prick deep within my steaming pussy and began to pound with all his might, though with little finesse. Nevertheless, he was enough to bring me to that state of mindless ecstasy, of screaming joy, that every woman knows and wants.
It didn't take long; very soon he was done and off me, though he had come so fast upon Jim's heels that I was satisfied. I was so enervated that I couldn't get up for some while. Even when I could, I lay there, enjoying the lassitude, resting. When I did rise, I found them all engulfed in each other's arms, busily flattening the grass. Apparently the women too had been aroused by the action centering on me and had revived their men as soon as they could.
After they'd finished and lain back on the lawn to catch their breaths, sweaty from exercising so hard in the hot summer sun, my stepfather brought out some beer, even insisting that I have one. It tasted good to all of us.
No one had enough energy the rest of that afternoon to do more than fondle and kiss, and make the beer disappear. At John's insistence, and the boisterous urgings of Jim and Charley, I had four or five beers. On top of the earlier drinks these went quickly to my head, so that by dinner time I could hardly walk straight. My head was spinning slightly and the air seemed wavy.
When we moved into the living room after dinner, I heard Charley and Jim whispering together, chuckling over some obscene joke. Though I could hear nothing but the murmur of their voices, they quit when I came near. Only after Charley insisted I take one of the drinks John was passing around did I gain any idea of their secret.
I was pretty dizzy. Never having drunk much before, I didn't really know what to expect. I had seen my parents after a few drinks, but I felt even sillier than they had seemed to me.
When Charley leered at me and suggested, "Hey, Penny, maybe now you'll show Jim and me what a hot mouth you got," I thought it was a good idea. I wanted to show off. I was back in that mood of expectation my parents had encouraged before the orgy. I'd forgotten the earlier scene.
Jim strode over, grabbed me by the back of the neck, forcing me to my knees, pressing my face to his crotch. I was groggy and slow from the drinks and didn't seem to know what to do with the projecting rod of flesh forcing itself against my lips. Impatiently, he urged me on. "Go on, suck it! It won't bite!"
The others, except Bob, laughed uproariously at my confusion. Slowly, I seized his rigid staff and mouthed it, but my alcohol-numbed lips couldn't grip it properly. I couldn't control my muscles and the saliva dripped from my slack jaw onto his sack.
In a vain effort to get some pleasure from me, he held my head and pistoned in and out of my mouth. My slackness, however, was so ineffective that he hurled me from him in disgust. "Yaah, she's too drunk. You can have her, Charley."
I staggered back in relief, though unable to control myself. I almost fell into Charley when he grabbed me and tried to slap me into some awareness of the world about me. He didn't get anywhere. I was beyond caring what they did to me, beyond helping or hindering. He let me fall back and threw himself upon me. His penetration was brutal. I was too drunk to be receptive, too dry, and he hurt. He took no notice of my weak struggles, but plunged on. Mercifully, I passed out.
I awoke in the morning in bed beside Bob and Sarah.