Chapter 5
Dorothy Martin was in a quandary after what she had seen through that treacherous crack in the wall. She realized she had something to dangle over her brother's head like a kind of Damoclean sword if ever she needed it because all she had to do was tell her mother and father that Kenny had brought a girl into their house while they were out of town, and Kenny's name would be mud. Then she stopped to think a little. They would probably ask her how she knew what was going on, and then she would have to tell all about the crack in the wall, and that would make her out to be a good deal of a sneak. No, she would just keep it to herself and remember it if ever Kenny needed a lesson in toeing the mark.
She vaguely heard their drowsy voices, and she guessed that they were dressing and preparing to leave. Kenny didn't know that she was back home, of course, so she decided to stretch out on her bed and take a nap. But the trouble was, she couldn't. The lustful images of Dody and her brother squirming about and fucking made her restless. Her legs shivered and there was a warm, quivering feeling right between her thighs. She quickly took off her dress and slip, panties, bra and garterbelt and charcoal-brown nylons and pumps, and she glanced at herself in the mirror and shivered again: the face she saw was flushed, the eyes humid and wide, and there were beads of perspiration on her forehead. She glanced down at herself and saw how her white nylon panties clung against her crotch, pressing tightly against the crisp thick black triangle of her virgin cunt-hole. She seemed to see herself for the first time, and she stared entranced at herself, in a kind of narcissistic enjoyment. She wondered what a man would think of what she had to offer just under those tight, so very sheer nylon panties and under the matching bra.
If a man had been present to appraise her, he would have answered her with direct action ... with a hard-on, to be exact. Her face was oval, haughty, with small, ripe lips (the upper one had an arrogant curl to it which further pronounced her haughty mien), and she had an aquiline nose with very thin, widely flaring nostrils. Her cheekbones were high set, and with her slightly almond-shaped gray-green eyes, and pure, high arching forehead, she had a kind of Eurasian look to her which was maddeningly exciting. She wore her glossy black hair in a thick pageboy, curls beautifully turned under and caressing her neck and shoulders. It was combed up high from the forehead which emphasized that fine full pure arch and suggested that she was also an intellectual. Actually, Dorothy Martin, in spite of being nineteen and thus two years older than her brother Kenny, was a self-centered and rather superficial girl who tended to judge life by material standards and who was impressed only on a date when a boy had a new car and a big allowance to spend and knew where to take her to the most expensive restaurants and theaters. Yet physically she was really magnificent and mouthwatering to see in this deshabille. She had titties that were surprisingly ample, very full and firm and round, set closely together and perched high on her creamy chest. She had a delightfully slim waist, but it flared into ripely curved hips. The cheeks of her bottom were upstandingly rounded, impudent and jouncy, and the furrow between them gradually widened as it reached the base of those two succulent hemispheres. By contrast, which made her even more feminine, and desirable, her thighs were long and seductively curved, beautifully muscled, merging from slim, sinuously mobile calves. When she had stood on the stool to watch her brother fuck Dody, the muscles of those lovely calves had rippled and flexed and writhed under her finely grained soft white skin, and the charcoal brown nylons, gauzy and snug as a second skin, had faithfully transcribed those undulatory movements.
She turned over onto her side and flung an arm over her forehead, closing her eyes and willing herself to sleep, but she still couldn't. In her mind, there rose again the feverishly lewd, excitingly graphic images of Dody's clutching naked body fused with Kenny's, of Kenny's jerking bottom as he thrust himself back and forth into Dody's eager quim. Her mind, too, was filled with the groans, sighs and with Dody's passionate exhortations to her brother, sounds that suggested the most primal and furious physical lust.
Dorothy Martin had had a number of dates to be sure, and she had been kissed a number of times as well, but in the parlance of her set, she was known as a "holier-than-thou", or, still worse, prick teaser. She loved to lord it over young men, to talk about the arts and culture and to show herself to be quite sophisticated and cool and poised. Often, when on a first date, the young man finding her excitingly delectable, would slip his hand onto her knee, she would look at him with a cold stare and remark cynically, "You can have just one minute to make a tour of inspection; after that, hands off. I'm not that sort of a girl." If she could have heard the secretly muttered threats of boys who had been doused with the cold, annihilating water of her taunting scorn, she would have blushed and cringed: the concensus of opinion was that Dorothy Martin needed to have her butt smacked until it was a blazing red and then to be turned over and thoroughly and vigorously fucked.
But of all this, she of course had no knowledge, nor had opinions of her classmates and associates and friends been able to influence her in the slightest. She felt herself a kind of queen, infinitely superior to those around her, although unto herself. And although she was tormented by the vision she had seen through the crack in the wall, she put her hands to her panties, arched her bottom from the bed, rucked the thin sheath down. Then, her left hand over her eyes, she put her right between her thighs, which she spread slightly, and with the tip of her dainty forefinger she began to brush the jet-black curls of her pussy, grazing the pink twitching lips of her cunt from time to time and shivering with a voluptuous anticipation of the pleasure that was being roused in her innermost depths. She felt a tickling sensation between the lips of her slit, and, exploring with her finger tip, discovered that she was moist just at the inner lips of her cunt. It was the prelubricatory effluvium which spelled a readiness to passion, a sign of tumescence. She was well aquainted with it, because since she had been fourteen, Dorothy Martin had often frigged herself to sleep. She did so after some of these frustrating dates-frustrating that is, to the male partners that escorted her. For she was always most excited when they had seen her to the door of her house and she had closed it on them and she had gone upstairs to her room, locked herself in and prepared for bed, she would stare into her mirror and smile with a secret joy, boosting to herself that another young man had been spurned, trampled and rejected for all his high hopes and for all his thinking that he was such a bigshot and a lover. And thinking these thoughts would make Dorothy Martin's pussy itch and burn and throb with a craving which she could always satisfy with the slim finger that was now delicately rimming the pink lips of her cunt.
She spread her thighs a little more, until she could feel the cords along the inside fronts of those long legs of hers surge and tauten rather painfully under the fine smooth white skin. She curled her toes, kicking off her pumps and, glancing down at her long beautiful legs and their charcoal-brown nylon sheaths, drew a long breath of anticipation. Then her forefinger delved deeper still, between the lips cunt, until she found the hymeneal seal which proclaimed her maidenhead. It was still inviolate. A smug little smile curved her pouting red mouth; yes, and it was going to stay that way, and she would get a pretty price for it when she finally deigned to give it up to some fellow. Her mother had, to some extent, made quite a fuss over Dorothy's beauty and often remarked to friends, in Dorothy's hearing, that her daughter was a simply beautiful girl who ought to make a very fine match. Dorothy accepted this as her due, as a princess might accept the nattering veneration of her retinue.
Now she drew up her knees in the air and swung them widely apart as her finger retreated till she brushed against her clitoris. She gasped at the electrifying sensation which that tactile discovery caused. Soon her nostrils began to flare and shrink more quickly now, and the tight thin bra was stretched by the shuddering upheaval of her titties, whose dark coral tips, ripe, crinkly and well developed, thrust energetically against the bra with every breath. Now, flattening the little nodule of pussy-flesh, she closed her eyes again and summoned up the image of Kenneth over Dody, his bottom working and jerking as he arched and sank deep into Dody's twat. Now her finger began to move the flattened button of her tickler, and the waves of hot itching and tingling sensation grew more and more vivid and rousing inside of her, till her lips parted and a faint sigh of libidinous delight escaped her.
Kenneth Martin had dressed, and blushing hotly and not quite daring to look Dody Brandon in the eye, he had given her a quick kiss and led her down the stairs to the living room. "Will I see you again, honey?" she murmured, linking her arms around his neck and arching her pussy against his crotch. Her eyes were lazy and languid now, and the soft-satisfied little smile on her ripe moist mouth told him that there was a secret between the two of them which delighted her.
"Sure, Dody. Gosh, you were wonderful! I wish you didn't have to go so damm soon, but Sis ought to be coming back pretty soon," he told her. His hands slipped around to squeeze her bottomcheeks and Dody giggled, "Naughty, naughty, Kenny! You better not do that when you see me on the street or in school or anything like that, or I'll be awful embarrassed!"
"Aw, shucks, Dody, I wouldn't do a dumb thing like that," he grumbled. She giggled, sure of him and pleased with her own triumph because she had always secretly wondered what kind of cocksmith this intense, handsome and brooding fellow was. She gave him a stinging little kiss on the tip of his nose and whispered, "You be nice now, and maybe we'll get together again like this. Maybe my folks'll be out of town like yours, and then you can come over to my place and we can really have a ball. Would you like that, honey?"
"You know I would, Dody baby!" he thickly muttered. His lips searched, found hers and gave her a long desperate and lustful kiss. At last Dody broke away and patted him on the head as she might a child, and slipped out of the front door. He stood there trembling, his face congested, and he found he had another hard-on. Then he smiled, and chuckled. Life was wonderful. He was a man now and he could brag that he had really shagged that hot box of a Dody Brandon but good!
He went back upstairs, whistling. Then he stopped short, his eyes widening. Dorothy's door was closed. She didn't do that unless she was home. Oh gosh-what if she'd been in her room and heard him and Dody while they were making out?
His heart began to beat wildly. Both very carefully and very slowly, he put his hand to the doorknob, and turned it. He opened the door and glanced in, just at the moment when Dorothy Martin, her nylon panties rumpled down to her ankles, was at the exact moment of gushing down her cream from the frigging she had been giving herself!