Chapter 5
Lola staggered slightly as she came out of the house, her knees rubbery, her twat lips so bloated and throbbing from being rubbed by thick cock shaft that it felt as if there were something stuffed between her thighs.
She squinted toward the sun and blinked. A shiver ran through her, and her pussy lips pulled together under her short dress with a gentle squeeze.
A drop of cum slithered from her vaginal crack and clung to her cunt lip. Another followed down her slippery cunt channel and joined the first, and they dropped to the heated sidewalk to make a dark stain.
She hefted the case in her hand. It was considerably lighter than when she'd gone in. They'd bought her out.
Everything.
Every prick. Even the toiletries. Even the false pussy.
Pete had slipped his prick into the hairy twat and then had turned it on, letting out a moan. He'd lain back on the bed with his prick thrusting and throbbing into the churning, slippery hole and had let the mechanized pussy fuck him.
When he'd come, he'd thrashed and yelled and blown his wad into it so hard it seemed he would shoot it off the end of his bucking dick.
That had made Carol finger the butt plugger and shove it up her ass while he sucked her pussy off.
Lola went down the walk the rest of the way to the quiet, shaded street. She wasn't quite sure what to do now.
She sat on the grass again and sighed, feeling a marvelous sense of contentment. But the contentment bothered her for a reason she couldn't put her finger on.
A bird sang overhead, and she lay back and looked up at the sky through the leaves. She closed her eyes after a moment. It was like being in the park with her father again. She smiled softly to herself, remembering, feeling good.
Pete had fucked her twice before doing it to the hairy twat. He hadn't even taken his prick out of her pussy. He'd moved slowly, gently, doing that ballet kind of thing in her cunt that he'd done with Carol the first time.
It had been good. Lola had liked it. She couldn't honestly lie on her back right now and face the sky and remember her father and deny that she'd liked it.
If all men fucked that way, she might even get to love being fucked. But no more raping Ron's. No Fats. No Lew. God! Not Hugo, either, even if he did remind her a little of her wonderful, warm father.
She lifted her arm over her face and looked at the cheap watch Hugo had given her. It had stopped running already.
She sat up and shook her arm. It began to run again. She squinted at the sun one more time, trying to judge how late it was. She couldn't. But she knew it was way too early for Hugo to be at the place he was going to meet her.
She sighed again. What to do? She'd sold her whole kit. The case had nearly three hundred dollars in it now. And fifteen percent of it was hers.
She did a little arithmetic. A little better than forty dollars for a few hours of delightful fucking. Wanda would snort with scorn at that.
Lola gave fleeting thought to getting up and walking-as far as she could get with the three hundred dollars. That would get her plenty far away from all of them.
The idea grew in her mind. She already had the police, Ron, Fats, and Lew after her. What would Hugo matter?
She stood up, picking a leaf of dead grass off her ass as she smoothed down the back of her skirt. She glanced guiltily up and down the quiet street, and that was when she saw the car.
It was parked over on the other side of the street, up the block. A man sat in it. He seemed to be watching her.
He was in his mid to late thirties. His build was slight, his hair brown and full, without being long.
She stared at him. His image swam before her eyes. She felt as if the world were turning around and spinning her off into another dimension. She clutched her hand to her throat and nearly cried out his name, even though she knew in the rational part of her mind that the man couldn't possibly be her father.
She stared and gaped. Her mouth fell open. Her pulse raced. It wasn't! It couldn't be! He was dead!
She gasped quickly. Was it a trick? Was somebody playing a foul, rotten trick on her?
She turned her body, but her head wouldn't quite turn around with it. She started walking away, clutching the case with a steely grip. She walked faster, looking over her shoulder at him all the while.
The car started up. It moved away from the curbing toward her, coming slowly down the quiet, shaded street. She began to run.
Somehow, the scenery impressed her mind. Ron and Fats and Lew had been running down this same street. Only it was night then. She had driven down it, just as the man was doing, only she had the pedal to the floor and the jewels in the front seat beside her, and the blue dome light had been slashing back and forth through the foliage from the car speeding up behind them all.
It was a cruel trick!
The car pulled alongside her, and then the man stuck his head through the window and spoke to her.
"Hi, can I give you a lift back to the hotel?"
She stopped. She couldn't outrun a car. She panted and stared at him. It wasn't her father. Up close, she could see that. His eyes were blue, his face wrong somehow. The voice wasn't her father's either.
"You did just move into the Burgess, didn't you?" he asked, smiling. "I thought I recognized you. I'm the guy with the sack of groceries, remember? Down the hall?"
Lola took a deep breath and let it out. Her heartbeat slowed. "Oh. Yes, I remember," she said, smiling with relief. "I thought ... "
"Yeah, I don't blame you. It isn't too safe out any more, even in a neighborhood like this. But I'm harmless. Come on, I'll give you a lift back."
He opened the door for her. She saw the watch on his arm. Hugo wouldn't be around for over four hours. She could go to the hotel and walk to the shopping center when she thought he would be back. She looked at the friendly smile on the man's face and got into the car.
He stuck out his hand. "Dick Peters," he said, grinning slightly. "Honest."
Lola smiled. "Lola," she said, catching herself before blurting out her last name.
They chatted on the way. He was easy to talk to. Nearly too easy. Just the way her father had been. She still couldn't get over close resemblance to him. She felt the feeling of utter loneliness a few moments ago fading away.
He sold insurance, he said. He named a company that meant nothing to her. Wasn't it strange that they were both selling in the same neighborhood that afternoon?
"Toiletries," Lola said when he asked. "I sell toiletries."
"In that dress?" he grinned, glancing toward her lap.
She looked down. The tops of her thighs were totally bare. The hem of her dress had slid all the way back to her groin. Tufts of red pussy hairs curled out from under it.
"What's the matter with this dress?" She made no move to pull the hem down or to keep her tits from thrusting against the thin fabric.
"It looks like one Hugo Girtman would put you in. You one of Hugo's girls?"
She turned her head and stared at him and blinked. "How would you know that?" she asked, a thrill of alarm chasing through her.
He looked back at the road and turned the corner into the hotel parking lot and stopped. "I see them around," he said. "I see nearly everybody in my job." He looked at her and grinned. "It's nothing to me if you work for Hugo. Come on, I'll buy you a drink. You old enough? Oh, hell-sure you are."
They went into the hotel and rode up the elevator. He opened the door to his room and invited her in. She hesitated. He was friendly and frightening at the same time. He knew too damn much.
"Let me put this case in my room first," she said. She went down the hall. As she opened the door, he was suddenly behind her, coming in with her.
"Don't look that way," he said. "I'm not going to take your money in the case. You earned it. I'm not interested in the case. I'm interested in you."
It had been a lecherous remark. He spun her around to face him. He was going to pull her against his chest and feel her tits and swollen ass and reach up under the skirt to finger her wet pussy.
She felt all that. She was ready to kick and fight off a rape. But then their eyes locked, and they looked at each other for a long moment.
It was as if her father's eyes had turned blue and his voice had mellowed. It was as if she'd known him a long, long time.
He pulled gently, and she came against him, letting her body be enfolded in his arms. When she closed her eyes, they were her father's arms again, and she was safe and not lonely any more.
"Oh, Dick ... " she whispered.
His arms relaxed, dropping from her waist and hips. "I ... God, Lola, I ... can't. You're different from the others. You're not really as old as you look, are you? God, what's happened to you that you have to work for a prick like Hugo?"
"Oh, don't ask-don't ask! It doesn't matter! Hold me! Oh, it feels so comforting to have you hold me!"
He sucked in his breath. He wasn't an iron man. The way she pushed her braless tits against his shirt and ground her hips and pussy against his crotch was enough to make his hands cup around the firm swells of her tight little ass and pull her middle against his.
He held her. He brushed his lips over the red silk of her hair! He looked down at the sprinkle of freckles on her shoulders and the young, baby-smooth features of her pretty face and full lips.
"Lola, this ... I'm old enough to be your father."
Her heart pounded. She lifted up on her toes and stretched her neck and made her soft lips part, reaching for his. When he didn't come down to kiss her, she cupped the back of his head and pulled his mouth against hers with a tiny cry.
He didn't need any more urging. His lips mashed against hers, and his warm tongue slid between them and found hers. A hand slid from her round butt cheek around the side of her hip.
It came up under the dress, drawing the material above her heated mound. He cupped her twat and squeezed gently, and she knew from his touch that it wasn't going to be rape.
She opened her eyes. She shut them again quickly. Her heart raced. She felt very strange. It was as if her father were kissing her and squeezing her pussy and feeling her ass.
"Oh, God ... " she gasped.
"Lola, we don't have to ... "
"Hold me! Ohhh, fuck me!" she cried breathily, clinging to him.
He held her. He ran the zipper down her back and stripped the lime dress from her young body. He sucked in his breath with awe when he looked at her nakedness. He picked her up in his arms and carried her toward the shower and put her down.
"I want to start fresh," he said softly.
She liked that. It sounded poetic. She watched him strip and stared at his prick. It was rigid and thrusting up toward her. It wasn't huge, the way Pete's had been. It wasn't a raping prick, the way Ron's had been. It wasn't a fat pole like Hugo's. It was a good prick. It was the kind her father would have had, strong and tender at the same time.
She soaped his prick under the shower. She ran her slippery hands up and down the length of it. She cupped his balls and felt them roll in her fingers.
She couldn't get enough of his body. She ran her soaped hands over his buttocks again and again, watching the bubbles tangle in the hair of his legs as they were washed down his body.
"Lola-Lola ... " he gasped. "This is madness. This isn't supposed to be happening. It isn't supposed to be this way ... "
He put his hands under her arms and lifted her. Her face turned toward the spray. She closed her eyes and smiled against the flow of water, feeling the way it plastered her hair against her head and ran from her face to her tits and off the points of her nipples in twin streams.
"Do me-soap me ... " she gasped, standing still for him, letting her pointed tits thrust into the spray.
He soaped his hands. He ran them all over her body, from her smooth, firm shoulders, down her sides, around to her jutting cones. His fingers slid all over the sloping hills of her fine, firm tits.
They jacked the stiff, rubbery nipples until Lola was ready to scream with the sensation of it. He ran his hands down her flat tummy and felt the pinch of her waist.
He followed the ripe, flaring curves of her hips and the round swells of her asscheeks. When he cupped his hand and reached for her pussy, she braced her feet on the floor and tipped her pelvis up for him.
His cupped hand ran under her crotch. His fingers slid into the deep cleft between her cheeks. He drew them over her slippery, pulsing asshole.
He made one dip into the rubbery anus, slick with soap, and Lola gasped heatedly. Her cheeks clenched together. She writhed her hips around in small circles, fucking the tip of his slippery finger with her tender ass mouth.
"Ohhhhh, God ... " she cried passionately.
"You like it in your ass, huh?"
"Ohhhhh, my pussy's on fire! I must, mustn't I? Ohhhh, it's dripping all over the floor!"
"That's the water running off your cunt lips," he grinned shakily.
"It's my pussy! It's flooded inside! Ohhhh, you've made my honey flow and surge, and it's running out my cunt hole!"
"You nearly made my honey spurt out the tip of my prick when you were squeezing it and rolling it around."
"Do you want me to? Ohhhh, let me!" she cried, reaching for his thrusting cock again.
Her fingers wrapped around it. She slid her soapy hand from the tip to the base and back up the strong shaft to the welling, fiery glans again.
"Ohhhh, don't ... " he gasped, his hips canting forward.
"Oh Dick ... push your finger up my ass! All the way! Your thumb up my cunt! Make me come!"
"Let me fuck my cock into your hot pussy, and I'll make us both come ... " he gasped.
She licked her lips of the water running from them. Her ass wouldn't stay still. It swiveled and rolled. Her asshole sucked at the slippery tip of his finger and tried to draw it inside. She looked down at his throbbing cock sliding in and out of the slippery fist of her hand, and she sucked in her breath.
"I-I want to see it shoot," she said haltingly. "Ohhhh, I've felt a cock shoot sperm up my pussy and into my ass and down my throat, but I've never watched it!"
"Lola ... " he gasped, his prick throbbing nearly out of control.
His thumb teased at the puffy lips of her cunt, and there was moisture on them that was thicker than the water, more slippery than what was coming from the shower.
"Come for me, Dick!" Lola gasped.
She was astonished by her own words. Her mind seemed to reel. She couldn't believe she was really doing all this and feeling all the marvelous sensations running through her.
She should be fearful, hesitant, resistant. But she was eager instead.
She began to jack his prick faster and faster, loving the feel of the hard shaft under her fingers. She liked the way it throbbed. She liked the saucy way it bucked and lifted spasmically as her fingers raced from the root to the swollen glans.
Her asshole sucked at his fingertip in response, and she began to draw the stiffness of it up into her body. She groaned and felt her knees grow rubbery.
"Ohhhh, Dick ..," she gasped.
Her anal ring quivered around the invading digit. Thrills shot through her heated ass, and she couldn't keep from shaking it and squirming around and driving her fist along the shaft of his trembling prick.
"Lola, stop ... " he gasped.
"Your thumb too! Ohhhh, slip your thumb up my cunt! Fuck me with it!"
He wasn't quick enough for her. She slid her free hand from his butt to the matted fur between her legs. She spread her knees more and squatted slightly.
His finger shot freely up her asshole, all the way to his palm, until his hand was cupping her ass-cheeks. She swirled her hand through the water flowing over her mound, through the wetted red fuzz there, pulling and twisting at her bloated pussy lips.
She squatted farther and shivered and fucked her own finger into her drenched, silken pussy. She jabbed the stiff digit in and out of her steaming cunt.
It was tight in there. She could feel the length of his finger in her ass, just on the other side of the thin membrane.
"Ahhhhhgh!" she cried, her voice tight.
She shivered all over again. She was ready to come. She would have come just then, if it hadn't been for all the coming and fucking she'd done already.
She wished suddenly she had one of those wonderful writhing pricks she'd sold to Carol. Her finger wasn't good enough anymore. She needed more stimulation, something bigger than a finger, something harder and stronger.
"Ahhh, God!" he gasped. "I'm going to fuck my cock into you! I can't stand this anymore! God, take your finger out of your pussy and let me ... "
"No, no," she said softly, heatedly. "Come for me! I want to stare right at the tip of your big, trembling prick and watch that slit open wide and spurt cum through it!"
Dick sucked in his breath. He looked at her, hunched over slightly, a look of terrible lust on her face. Her tits jutted firmly from her chest, the nipples big and dark and stiff as iron nubs.
It was utter madness. He was standing in a shower stall with a kid who could be his daughter, and he was letting her jack his prick to a raging, flaming stick of dynamite that was ready to explode.
Her asshole was nearly pinching his finger off with its hard, sharp spasms of lust. He could feel her finger writhing and fucking in and out of her pussy through the thin membrane of cunt wall, and he ached to shove his boiling cock up her hole to let those tight, silky muscles grip it and shake it.
But she wanted to jack him off. .
She wanted to watch the big eye on the tip of his prick open up and spit white cream toward her. She'd never seen a cock come. She was filled with the fascination of youth. If there was nothing else about her that would betray her age, that would.
"Lola ... " he gasped.
She wriggled her finger in her pussy with terrible need, and her asshole nearly nipped his middle finger off at the base.
"Are you going to come? Oh, come! I want to see it! I'll come with you! Ohhhh, yes, I'm going to come too! Dick! Yes, Dick-now! Ohhhh, come for me!"
Her hand flew up and down his prick. The fingers squeezed and rubbed and milked. They were unbelievably slippery with soap. He felt his balls draw up under the base of his cock like hard walnuts, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold off any longer.
He could fuck her. He could yank her hand away from her spread twat and lift her pussy up by the hand cupping the bottom of her ass and fuck his raging cock all the way to the back of her tender, sweet pussy.
But he didn't want to run the risk of angering her, of making her annoyed with him so that she wouldn't want to be around him anymore.
He had to keep track of her ...
"Now!" he croaked. "Lola-watch! It's boiling up from my balls, Lola! Your fingers are milking the juice right up through the stalk of my prick!"
"Ahhhhgh! Come! I'm watching! Ohhhh, look at the head swell! It's so red! The eye is opening! Dick, I'm coming with you! Ahhhhhgh, feel my ass suck around your finger! God, there-I see it! Ohhhh, I see it spurting!"
"Yaaaaaagh!" he shouted, letting his prick boil over.
His knees quivered. His ass tucked down and under and lifted his prick into her milking fingers. His balls rattled and heaved and shook, and his big load came spewing through his trembling prick.
Sperm arced from the wide-eyed tip and sprayed against her belly, running down with the torrent of water pouring from the ends of her tits.
It swirled into her navel and out again and streamed through her wet, matted pubes, making white rivulets through the rusty red.
"Eeeeee-God!" she cried sharply.
Her face reddened. Her eyes were wide and staring intently, and then they became glassy. Her pelvis tipped and seemed to lock at an odd angle, and then it trembled and shook.
Her asshole sucked and pulsed and spasmed around his finger, and her own finger shoved as far up her cunt as she could get it. She yelled again, coming and coming, trying hard to keep her eyes open enough to watch his stream of sperm hose from the tip of his bucking cock.
"Ohhhh! All over my belly! Running down into my pussy! Ohhhh!" she cried, bucking and weaving, her tits shaking and becoming so swollen they looked ready to burst.
He pumped the last of his load into her hand. The stream was washed away quickly by the shower, but not before she cupped it and looked at it and then smeared it over her tits.
She leaned against him, smearing it on his chest as she rubbed her tits against him.
"Ohhhhh, wonderful-wonderful!" she cried shakily. "I loved watching you come. I loved the feel of your prick when it bucked and spurted in my hand. Dick-ohhhh, hold me, Dick!"
He put his free arm around her. He smoothed his hand from the small of her back to her slippery buttocks and up to the back of her neck again.
He drew her face toward his. He kissed her under the warm spray, thrusting his tongue between her soft, sucking lips.
"Was it good for you, Dick?" she asked finally. "Did I jack you off right?"
"It was different," he grinned. "I haven't done that since I was-since ... "
She looked up at him and smiled softly. "Since you were a kid like me?"
He grinned back. He kissed her forehead, and she giggled and snuggled against him and shit his finger out of her ass with a tremor of lust.
"Ohhh, that felt good. Dick-do you want to fuck me?"
"You have to ask?"
"Can you ... "
He chuckled and spanked her wet butt with a slap. "I'm not that old, damn it."
She reached up and shut the water off. Her voice was a whisper in the sudden stillness.
"Then fuck me, Daddy," she said softly.
She looked at him with wide eyes. It felt as if the top of her scalp were aflame, despite the way it was soaked. She flung her arms around him and hugged him very tightly and shivered.
"Oh, yes-you're my daddy now. God, I want you to be my daddy! Fuck me! Hold me and fuck me!"
She nuzzled her wet head under his chin. Her firm tits mashed against his chest. Her hips quivered against his. Her crotch slid along the top of his prick, and her silky pussy lips enfolded it. Her asscheeks were round and womanly in his hands, mocking the childlike plea.
He held her close. There was something nearly pathetic about her need, and he knew she wasn't going to be anything like the others.
He led her from the shower. He wrapped a fluffy towel about her back, blotting the water from her young, fine skin while she continued to snuggle against him.
He lifted her in his arms, still wet, and carried her to the bed. He laid her down and looked at her fine young body. If he tried, he could see her as a woman.
But he knew what it felt like to be a dirty old man now.
"Fuck me?" she asked softly, opening her legs to him, arching her pussy up, lifting her arms to him.
He went into them. "Yes," he said huskily, feeling his prick jerk as impatiently as it had when he was her age.