Chapter 5
Darkness had descended over Peachville, and a breeze whispered through the magnolias along Lee Street, chasing the heat of the day.
Maybelle waited tensely in front of her house. She had dressed up for Nick, in a floral-printed silky thing that accentuated her lush curves and dipped a bit at the bodice to reveal the creamy cleft between her breasts. She wasn't trying to intrigue him, she assured herself, but her pride dictated that she should appear at her best.
At exactly nine o'clock, a car moved slowly up the street and stopped in front of her. It was a rakish two-door, low and sleek.
Nick leaned across to open the door on the passenger side. "Smart girl, Maybelle!" he said.
She settled into the vinyl bucket seat and swung her legs around. The hem of her flimsy skirt glided back, and her stockings gleamed in the soft glow of the courtesy light. She shut the door, and the car glided forward, its engine purring throatily.
"All right-what do you want to talk about?" she asked curtly.
"That's not a very warm greeting," Nick said, "considering all we meant to each other in Chicago."
"We never meant anything to each other, and you know it," Maybelle retorted, though the reference to Chicago brought a warmth to her cheeks. Lurid images of his stiff prick and her submissive flesh streaked through her mind, like a satyr chasing fawns in a forest. "Why are you here in Peachville?"
"Okay, I'll be up-front with you. I'm here to work a deal on your bank."
Maybelle froze. "A d-deal?"
"Yeah. No reason why you should be concerned about the details of it. I'll fill you in on them when the time comes. I just want to make sure you'll be ready to lend some cooperation when needed."
"What kind of cooperation?" she asked warily.
"Later," Nick said, and broke into a grin. "So, how's your sex life, now that you're a liberated lady?"
"Look . . ." Maybelle said, "I don't know what you have in mind, but I'm not going to have anything to do with it. Do you understand?"
"No. But this isn't the time to discuss it. Got a boyfriend?"
'Take me back home!"
Nick turned a corner, heading into the countryside. Maybelle's tension increased. She began to think it was a mistake to meet him-but there were those damning pictures of her that he held, the ones that showed her with her legs spread wide and his sperm clinging to the rosy flesh of her pussy.
"I've been thinking a lot about you, baby," he said. "You made quite an impression on me."
"You made an impression on me, too-as a rat!"
He chuckled. "Let's quit fencing. I not only want your help in this deal I'm going to pull, but I want us to be like we were last July."
"No chance!" Maybelle said hotly, her pulse beginning to pound.
Nick turned onto a dirt road between two fields and brought his car to a stop, cutting off the lights and engine. "Are you on the pill?" he asked.
Maybelle reached for the door handle, but Nick grasped her arm, holding her in the car.
"How would you like it if your uncle got a picture of you, bare ass on a bed, with your legs open . . . and a man's fingers holding your cunt open, too?"
"You . . . you . . . !" Maybelle didn't have the word to suit.
"I could send Uncle a picture and still keep you under pressure at the bank," he pointed out, "because your uncle wouldn't show the photo to anyone else. But he'd make things hot for you at home-right?"
"What do you want?" Maybelle heard herself ask, her tone low and raspy.
'That's more like it." Nick chuckled. "I want you, honey-like Chicago-but I don't think we'd better take chances if you're not protected. I wouldn't want to knock you up."
"Well, I'm not protected," Maybelle was quick to say. "I'm not a loose woman!"
"People still talk that way down here in the sticks, hm?" Nick observed with amusement.
"Please take me home!"
"Okay, baby-right after you give me some head." "What?"
"Head. You know what that means, don't you?"
"Well, I . . . I . . ." Maybelle heard the term, but she wasn't sure exactly what it meant. If she had the correct suspicion, the idea shocked her.
"That way, you won't have any worries," Nick went on. "I never heard of a girl pregnant from sperm in her throat."
"Oooh, NO!" Maybelle exclaimed, and tried once again to get out of the car.
Nick's hand was like a steel clamp around her bare arm, holding her helplessly in her seat.
"Why are you tormenting me?" she demanded, anguish filling her voice.
"I'm not. I just want you, that's all. And I want you to help me with my deal later-that's why I came to Peachville, because Arlene told me you worked in the bank."
"I could quit!"
"But you won't. Jobs around here aren't too easy to find, I'll bet. Anyway, what I want you to do will be painless-and right now, it will be fun. Like Chicago."
"NO!"
"Baby, I've taken enough shit from you!" He flicked on the car's interior light. "Open my pants."
Maybelle stared at his lap, which was just across the car's console from her. Her nerves drew taut as fiddle strings, and a revulsion stirred inside her. She couldn't do what he had demanded, she thought.
"I . . . I'll let you have me," she said shamefully, "but not the way you said."
"No good. I'm not going to take a chance knocking you up. And I don't want to get my clothes all dirty out there on the ground. Also, one of your hot-shot deputy sheriffs might come along and catch us screwing-would you like that?"
"I hate you!" Maybelle said, her cheeks blazing. "Open my pants."
"You . . . you're just trying to degrade me!" "Bullshit! I like head. Haven't you ever given it?"
"Of course not!"
"But you've had it given to you. I watched your own sister do it."
"Ooooh, please . . . !" Maybelle shut her eyes, as if that could blot out the wicked recollection.
"Baby, we're wasting time. Take down the top of your dress so I can see your titties."
Maybelle's shame intensified, and her sickening sense of dread, also. She didn't see how she could avoid bowing to the man's obscene demands.
He reached around her and lowered the zipper at her back. "Down it comes," he said, drawing the dress off her smooth shoulders and along her lightly tanned arms.
Maybelle's breasts swelled lusciously above a low-cut, lacy bra.
"Please . . ." she murmured, but it was hardly loud enough to hear.
Nick reached around her a second time and unhooked her brassiere. He drew the flimsy harness away.
Maybelle tried to cross her arms shyly over her breasts, but his hands prevented that. He visually caressed the beauty of her thrusting, superbly shaped boobs, which were bathed softly in the glow from the dome light. Her nipples were rosy and growing stiff.
"You've got the tits of a showgirl," Nick said. "Ever thought of getting that kind of job in Atlanta or some place? You'd even wow 'em in Vegas."
Maybelle shamefully lowered her long, silky lashes.
When she felt Nick's fingers encircle her breasts and begin squeezing the springy-firm globes, heat coursed through her. Anger was part of it, but there was something else. She tried not to admit she was becoming aroused.
Nick let go of her titties with a flip, which left them bobbing, and he dropped his hands to her thighs. He pinched her thin, silky skirt and drew it up, denuding the creamy flesh above her stocking tops. Pink garters pulled the dark bands of her hose into peaks.
The cool, methodical way in which Nick was working on her heightened her humiliation. He was treating her as an object, not like a person at all.
"Now open my pants," he demanded.
A shamed glance told her that the exposure of her breasts and thighs had produced an effect upon him-his left trouser leg had risen.
Maybelle extended a slightly trembling hand. Nick watched with faint amusement as her fingers felt for the zipper tab tucked into the top of his fly, and she slowly drew his zipper down. She hesitated.
'Take my prick out," Nick said.
Maybelle gave a little whine.
"I'll send your uncle that picture, baby-I've got nothing to lose."
Feeling trapped, Maybelle slid her hand into his fly. Her fingers entered his boxer shorts and curled around his bent, firm column which pulsated with warm blood. She brought his cock out and stared at the fearsome, fascinating thing as it stuck straight up from his lap-long and thick, with that mushroom-shaped bulb at its top which had burned itself into her memory.
She drew her hand back and kept staring at his erection. 'Tick it!" he said.
She raised her tormented gaze to his. "I can't!" Nick slapped her.
It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that Maybelle could only gasp, her eyes widening in shock. Her cheek burned, "Lick me!" Nick ordered again.
Maybelle's stomach lurched. She was hot between her thighs, which gave her added shame, and her nerves were fit to pop.
The brutal slap had convinced her there was no point in arguing. Nick was the sort of man who had his way regardless of anyone's feelings, and that gave her a sense of stark hopelessness.
She bowed slowly toward his bristling lap.
The scent of his cock touched her first. It was faint but strange, causing her stomach to lurch again. She didn't know how she would be able to endure the crude ordeal that faced her.
"Hurry up!" Nick goaded.
She stuck out her quivering tongue.
Oh, God! she thought helplessly, and shut her eyes. Her tongue touched the tip of the man's bald-headed prick, and she felt a tremor shake it.
She got her first salty taste of cock, but the subtle muskiness of its crown made a stronger impression as it wafted up her nostrils.
Nick cupped her bare tits, and a sharp thrill went through her. Feeling as if she were jumping to her doom, the mortified girl glided her tongue around the fatness of his cockhead, feeling the horny ridge. His prick quivered against her tongue-stroke, and he let out a little groan. She could hear him breathing harder.
She accelerated the motion of her tongue, swirling it about his cockhead and lapping the slitted tip. She felt terribly ashamed and seemed to be drowning in the pungent aroma that flooded her nostrils. She could feel Nick's cock throbbing in response to her lingual caresses.
Her stomach oddly had quieted, despite the strong scent engulfing her. The rest of her body was more excited than ever. Nick was tugging on her tits, rolling her stiff nipples, and plucking at them as if he expected to draw milk.
Surrendering to what seemed inevitable, Maybelle opened her mouth wide and glided her soft lips down over the crown of his turgid prick.
It felt very strange to hold his throbbing manhood in her mouth-not as bad as she had feared, though the taste and scent were odd. There was even something pleasurable about it, Maybelle was forced to admit-a sense of power in the midst of degradation. It was stimulating to have her lips stretched wide around Nick's thick stalk, her tongue pressed by his pulsating glans.
"Pump your mouth!" she heard him order, as if from far away. "Suck!"
Maybelle sucked experimentally, and that added to her illicit pleasure. She couldn't deny the throbs that were coursing through her, the hotness that inflamed her loins.
Nick's hand worked on her exposed upper thigh that was near him, his fingers curling around it above the top of her stocking. He stroked down between that thigh and its twin, causing her to inch her thighs wide apart.
She pumped her mouth a little on his prick as she sucked him. Her senses swirled. His cock-head excitingly rubbed her tongue, his hard shaft stroking between her clasping lips. Her saliva spread a slippery glaze along his stalk, making it easier for her lips to glide against his turgid column, and she found herself lunging lower on him. His prick was sticking way back into her mouth, but strangely she didn't gag.
This was wild, she had to admit. She hated to believe she liked it. She still felt abused.
Nick's hand had glided up her thigh to her panties and was pressing her plushy cunt through the clinging nylon. She sucked harder on his big, juicy cock. She became very excited.
"Uuuuuugh!" Nick rasped, and began driving his cock up into her mouth with short jabs. She felt his organ twitch, and its head seemed to grow larger against her lapping tongue.
She didn't think about stopping as her brain swirled giddily. The strokes of Nick's hard cock against her encircling lips were almost like the strokes she remembered within her pussy. She kept swallowing down the juice that oozed steadily from his member.
"FASTER!" he husked. "Show me you like it, babe!"
Oh, I don't like it-I DON'T! Maybelle told herself. But that wasn't how she acted as she eagerly sucked his cock.
Her warmly clasping lips fairly flew up and down on his spit-slick pecker. He writhed in his seat, jabbing his prick jerkily upward. Maybelle sucked wildly, her tongue heatedly stroking the side of his cock.
Suddenly a groan ripped from Nick's throat, and he grasped Maybelle around the head. Panicking over the unexpected restraint, she tried to wrench her mouth free. But Nick held her firmly as his prick twitched in her mouth, the head swelling like a balloon.
Maybelle was horrified to feel a spurt of thick. viscous substance splatter against the roof of her mouth and the back of her throat. The goo spread over her tongue and gushed down her throat, forcing her to gulp. Her eyes watered, and she moaned gurglingly against the meaty plug in her mouth.
Nick's cock continued twitching and spurting, flooding her mouth with his cream, which she had to swallow because it was streaming down her throat. Some of the jism dribbled down his throbbing shaft to form white foam on her lips.
Maybelle's stomach protested the odd meal it was receiving, and she felt degraded as never before. She was sure she would be deathly ill.
Nick finally released his hold on her, and she raised her head dizzily, her eyes glassy and lips slack. A glob of semen hung from her lush lower lip, like the white of an egg.
"Ooooooooh!" she groaned, and leaned back in her seat.
She shut her eyes and tried to still the raging tumult inside her, which was both physical and mental.
In the meantime, Nick stuffed his penis back into his clothes and zipped up.
"Not bad for a first try," he said. "Next time you'll do better. Okay . . . out!"
She looked at him blearily, his sperm still dangling from her lip. "What?"
"Get out!" he said. "You can walk to the main road and pick up a ride."
Maybelle could scarcely believe she had heard right. Nick wouldn't be so callous. Then sickeningly she realized that he would. He didn't have the slightest regard for anyone but himself, which evidently was what he wanted to prove.
"Please . . . !" she begged. The glob of semen broke from her lip and dropped onto her thigh. "It's dark and lonely out here! I'm afraid!"
'Tough," Nick said. "My motel's nearby, and I'm tired."
"B-but . . ."
"Out!" he repeated forcefully and reached past her to open the right-hand door of the car.
When the girl continued to hesitate, he gave her a shove, and she tumbled out of the car, landing in the dirt. Nick pulled the door shut, gunned his engine, and backed quickly up to the paved road.
His headlights illuminated Maybelle as she lay on her side in the dirt, one leg drawn up. Her titties were bare, and her skirt was wound around her middle, exposing her pale thighs, glistening nylons, and a glimpse of pink panty. A cloud of dust from Nick's churning wheels obscured her just before his car backed onto the highway. His tires screeched as he sped away.
Maybelle coughed, then gave a plaintive sob. She sat up.
She was utterly alone in the darkness, except for the chirping crickets. She got to her feet, and brushed herself off, her tits shaking. She cried softly to herself.
She hated Nick fiercely, but somehow she hated herself even more, for having allowed herself to be treated this way. She squirmed, pulling her dress up, and realized that she didn't have her bra. It must have remained in Nick's car. Her purse, which had been next to her on the seat, had fortunately tumbled out with her, and she picked it up.
She looked around at the wide fields which were illuminated by a pale half-moon. Lights gleamed in a farmhouse about an eighth of a mile away.
Deciding to go there for help, instead of taking her chances on picking up a ride, she set out. Fear prickled her flesh, and she imagined monsters in the dark, watching her.
But there was only one monster in her life, she realized. Its name was Nick Delman.
The old farmer and his wife, to whom Maybelle appealed for help, were sympathetic but could offer little assistance, because their car wasn't working. They did, however, have a telephone, and Maybelle used it to call the only person she could think of who might come and pick her up without causing a scandal: Johnnie Wheeler.
While she waited, she tidied herself as best she could in the farm family's bathroom. She felt self-conscious walking around without a bra, her breasts quivering in her clingy dress. And she imagined that anyone who saw her would realize she had just committed a shocking act. Maybelle couldn't get the cocksucking out of her mind. It had been such a filthy thing, she thought, and yet it had excited her tremendously. She was still at loose ends, because she had not achieved a release with Nick.
John Wheeler was twenty years old, tanned and husky, with a devil-may-care twinkle in his blue eyes. His wheat-colored hair fell to his shoulders.
"Hell, I sure didn't expect to get a call from you, of all people," he said as he hurried Maybelle to his old Chevy. "Especially asking me for help. What happened, anyway?"
"I'd rather not talk about it," Maybelle replied. She remained quiet as they rattled toward the main road.
"You were with a man, huh?" the youth finally asked.
"Yes," Maybelle felt she had to admit.
Johnnie watched her titties quivering in her low-cut dress, illuminated by the car's instrument panel.
"He got fresh with you?"
"Mm-hm." Maybelle looked straight ahead.
"I remember that night when I tried something, and you jumped out of the car. It must've been like that, huh?"
"Yes."
Johnnie kept watching the pretty girl whom he had known since their grammar school days. She seemed different somehow-more mature but troubled.
He pulled over and parked.
"What are you doing?" Maybelle asked.
"I want to know who you got mixed up with."
'That's none of your business!" she retorted hotly.
"Maybe I'm making it my business. I've always liked you, Maybelle. I even thought that some day . . . maybe . . ."
"Yes?"
"Well, that you and I might make it."
"I like you too, Johnnie," she found herself saying. Compared to Nick, the young man who sat beside her was a prince.
He grinned. "Really? You're not just putting me on?"
"I mean it. But I'm awfully tired right now. So take me home, hmmmm?"
Johnnie slid over next to her. "Don't go jumping out of the car again," he said gently.
"Johnnie . . . please!"
There was no use begging. Maybelle saw that right away. There seemed to be something about her lately that attracted men like a honey jar drew flies-and the men were more determined than ever before.
Johnnie pulled her into his arms. Her soft body pressing against him confirmed that she was without a bra. He backed up just enough to get a hand in between them and as he kissed her with boyish exuberance, he fondled her springy-full tits.
Maybelle felt herself take off on a new passion flight, this one from the springboard of her non-climactic experience with Nick. As Johnnie played with her throbbing breasts and kissed her with plunging tongue, she responded heatedly.
She wasn't the same girl she used to be. Too much had happened recently. She had lost her old grip on decency, and her body was making demands that she found impossible to resist.
Her tongue stroked Johnnie's as he Frenched her moist mouth, and she squirmed against his teasing hands, letting her titties roll in his grasp. She breathed anxiously through her nose, the sweet bursts warming his cheek.
When he finally broke the kiss, he too panted, and his cheeks were passionately flushed.
"Maybelle, let's make it now!" he implored.
"No, we can't!" she replied, recovering her senses. "It's not safe!"
"I'll be careful!" the youth promised. But Maybelle knew she couldn't rely on that. Johnnie had never been careful about anything.
The passion-plagued girl grappled with him as he tried to pull down the top of her dress, but he was too strong and determined. Her only hope was to lunge from the car, as before, but that would have left her in the same fix as when she had called him. Anyway, she didn't want to resist.
She let him pull her dress down, and her beautiful tits burst free.
She heard and felt an impassioned breath rip from Johnnie's throat as he gazed at her creamy globes, quivering in the moonlight. Her rosy nipples were stiff from his preliminary fondling, and they tingled with the need to feel his fingers pinching them, his lips sucking them into his mouth.
"Ooooooh, Joh-neeeee!" she moaned, and melted against him.
Breathing hotly, he ran his hands up and down her bare back as he gave her another deep-plunging kiss. She sucked his tongue a little.
His mouth skidded from hers and trailed damply down across her chin and along her throat as she leaned against the back of the car seat. His hands came up underneath her breasts, squeezing and lifting the shapely, smooth masses, offering her nipples to his lips as his mouth descended upon them.
Maybelle writhed passionately as he sucked her tits. Her fingers threaded into his long hair. Johnnie pulled at first one pulsating nipple and then the other, sending luscious throbs coursing through her entire body. She became very wet between the legs.
She had to spread her thighs, because her pussy was so hot, and the youth lost no time in dropping a hand to the yawning chasm. He pushed her skirt up as he stroked along the inside of a stocking, crossing its snugly encircling top to trail his fingers on satiny, warm flesh. When he touched the thin, damp crotch of her panties, Maybelle jumped.
"Oooooh, God, Johnnie, fuck me . . . FUCK MEEEEEE!" she babbled, shocking herself by her own brazenness.
He was amazed by the change that had come over her since the last time they were alone together, several months ago. But he didn't question it. He was more than happy to accept without conditions the bounty he was about to receive.
"Let's get into the back seat!" he husked.
"Yes . . . yesssss . . ."
Maybelle climbed over the seat, her stockings flashing, white thighs winking above them. Johnnie followed her as she nestled into a corner. She had never been in a boy's back seat before, but it immediately felt good to her.
She remained apprehensive, however. What if she got knocked up?
Johnnie swarmed over her, rolling and sucking at her tits, then pushing her skirt very high. He clutched her pink panties.
"Ooooh, yesssss . . . pull them off!" she said wantonly. "I need to be naked for you!"
"Part of her need was a desperate desire for love and acceptance, after being used by Stebbins and Nick and being punished by her tyrannical uncle. That was confusingly intermingled with the need of her throbbing, young flesh.
It was Johnnie's good fortune to be handy at the right time and place. Red-blooded boy that he was, he intended to make the most of it.
He pulled Maybelle's panties down, and she lifted her lovely legs in the air to let him pick the pink briefs off her feet. When her legs fell back to the car cushion, they were steepled, her knees up. It was a simple matter of Johnnie to push her knees wide apart, as if he were opening the pages of a sexy book.
Maybelle's intimate charms were displayed before him, though in frustrating dimness, because of the lack of light in the car. He cured that by snapping on the dome lamp.
"Noooooh!" the startled girl exclaimed, covering her pussy with her hands. She hadn't entirely cast off her shyness.
Refusing to tolerate her foolish modesty, the lad forcefully yanked her hands away from her crotch. He gazed at one of the prettiest pussies in Culpepper County-perhaps the prettiest, if a man liked lots of hair.
Maybelle's cunt-hairs were as dark as the wavy tresses that cascaded around her shoulders. With her knees spread wide and her thighs tilted up, a meaty cleft parted the center of her curly forest. Droplets of honey glistened along her enticing cuntlips.
"Oooooh, baby . . . !" John husked boyishly, and he clawed at the front of his snug jeans, which were swollen.
Maybelle could hardly wait to see his cock. So far she had viewed only one male sex organ in her life-and that belonged to Nick, a man she hated. Would Johnnie's organ look just like it, she wondered, or was there as much difference between men's pricks as there was in their faces?
She soon got her answer, for Johnnie's cock came spearing out through his fly to stick up high and quivering.
It was different. The size was about the same as Nick's, as nearly as Maybelle could judge, but there was pale skin extending to the tip of Johnnie's penis, ending in a kind of ruffle.
While she watched in excited fascination, the youth wrapped a big hand around his thrusting dong and glided the foreskin back. The bulb at the end of his pecker surged into view, shaped much like Nick's (although perhaps not as big around). It was a moist, pale pink while Nick's was bluish and shiny.
Maybelle wanted what Johnnie had for her, and she wriggled, pushing her lips invitingly forward. He moved up, clutching his cock.
The girl felt a single searing flash of guilt, which was quickly lost in the greater heat and excitement of her need. Then the tip of Johnnie's cock was kissing her moist pussy, nudging its tender lips apart.
She squirmed, trying to screw herself onto his rod, but he had to settle it just right first. Entering Maybelle was nothing like driving his car into a garage. The mouth of her scarcely used pussy was small and well protected by her labyrinthine cuntal folds.
Johnnie had screwed enough girls so that he knew how to position himself quickly. As May- belle gave another twist of her hips, he pushed down and forward. His long cock glided into her, spreading her warm cuntal passage. Her slippery membrane clutched him, and the thrill was so luscious that it made his scalp prickle.
Maybelle's eyes rolled, and her rosy lips gaped moistly. It felt just wonderful to have Johnnie's long dick sticking up inside her. It felt better than Nick's had felt in Chicago, though she wasn't sure why.
"Ooooooooh!" the plugged girl moaned, and circled her hips, responding to the voluptuous tide that swept through her.
Johnnie growled lustfully as her warm cunt swirled around his thrusting member. He drew back and let her have another long, gliding poke.
"Aaaaaahhhh . . . yessssss!" she panted. "Bay-beeeeeee!"
Johnnie fucked her with long, slow, steady strokes as he knelt on the car seat, between her spread thighs. He looked directly into her pretty face, seeing the passion in her violet eyes, the lush-ness of her soft cheeks and parted, sensuous lips. Leaning on one hand, he freed the other to squeeze and roll her delightful titties as he pumped in and out of her clasping, warm cunt.
The ridge of his cockhead sent ripples up and down Maybelle's pussy, which excited her very soul. His hard shaft sawed against the supersensitive tip of her clit. The myriad nerve-endings in the encircling lips of her hot hole were stimulated by his steady thrusts. And the center of her belly was thrilled by the charging, fist-like knob of his pecker, which seemed to have swelled larger, now that he was inside her.
The greatest thrill was in looking at his boyish face, which was filled with the same wonder she felt. There was nothing of the calculating slickness that Nick displayed.
Maybelle screwed her warm cunt more heatedly around the boy's pole. Her breasts throbbed in his clutching hands. He leaned closer to her and kissed her moist mouth, catching her lips widely apart. His tongue stroked deliriously in and out of that warm passion-cave as he stroked his cock in her cunt.
It was a supreme thrill for them both, inspiring awe as well as passion. Johnnie was forceful, yet tender. Maybelle responded with loving warmth she had never before felt toward a man.
This was more than mere fucking, she knew right away. It was completion.
Maybelle gathered the hunching youth in her arms, holding him close to her as he pumped into her wet, warm cunt with accelerating vigor. His deep-reaching thrusts shook her from hips to head, giving her more complete excitement than she ever had before felt.
She worked her pussy heatedly around and up and down on his fast-stroking piston. She gasped and moaned. The car shook from the concentrated frenzy of their fucking.
Maybelle felt herself approach the ultimate bliss, and she clutched the youth more fiercely.
"Ooooh, I'm . . . I'm going to . . . CUMMM!" she exclaimed breathlessly.
Come she did-gloriously and completely. Her hips bumped out of control, her hot pussy clasping Johnnie's churning rod. Time stood still. The world seemed to hang in breathless suspension. Maybelle heard herself squealing, as if the cry came from somewhere else, some other realm. Then she lapsed dizzily into perfect ease.
She scarcely felt Johnnie pull his cock from her warmly gratified cunt. She was surprised when she opened her eyes and watched him stroke his quivering prick above her belly. He sprinkled globs of wet passion over her.
She felt a rush of gratitude toward him, for thinking of her at the peak of his lust and withdrawing to have his come outside. That saved her from the worry of being pregnant, which had plagued her for two weeks after she'd returned from Chicago.
The great warmth which she felt for Johnnie caused her to bow impulsively and grasp his cock. She tilted his organ up toward her descending lips . . . and she kissed it, right on its wet, rosy head.
The youth gasped, his pecker twitching happily.
Maybelle glided her encircling lips over the pulsating head of his cock and took a final spurt of semen onto her tongue as she sucked him, the free-hearted act seeming to cap her own climax perfectly.
"Aaaaaw, Maybelle!" Johnnie groaned pleasurably, and cuddled her head in his arms.
She let his softening penis ooze out of her mouth with a final swipe of her tongue, which licked its tip clean. She turned her face up to Johnnie, and he kissed her parted lips.
"I love you!" he said, and she believed him, because he hadn't had to say it.
"I love you, too!" she passionately replied.
They kissed once more.
Maybelle was a happier and less troubled girl as she rode the rest of the way home, snuggled warmly against her new love. She didn't feel alone any longer.
Nick still hovered on the fringe of her consciousness, menacing her with his demands. But that wasn't important at the moment.
When Johnnie dropped Maybelle off at her house, she kissed him warmly, and they made a date for the following evening. She felt like singing as she hurried into the house.
"Where have you been, girl?" her uncle demanded as he confronted her in the entry hall.
"Why, out," she said simply, and stared at him, her joy dampened.
'That looked like Johnnie Wheeler's car I saw. You been with him all evening?"
Maybelle hesitated, then said, "Yes." She was pretty sure that her uncle hadn't seen Nick pick her up. The old man had been working on his books in the library when she had sneaked out.
'That Wheeler kid's no good! The whole town knows he's wild."
"I like him, Uncle," Maybelle said defiantly, raising her chin.
"Oh you do, huh?" Hobart's eyes hardened. "Seems like you didn't learn much from what happened this afternoon."
As he took a step closer to her, Maybelle backed up. "Don't you dare touch me again, Uncle Hobart! You don't have the right."
"Girl, I have all the Tight there is! Who took care of you from the time you were a little kid- you and that ungrateful sister of yours? As long as you live in my house, by God, you'll listen to what I say!"
It was on the tip of Maybelle's tongue to retort that she didn't care to live in his house any longer -particularly after the shameful thing that had happened earlier that day, when he had spanked her on the bare bottom. But she was afraid to be on her own.
"I'm going to bed," she announced, and edged past Hobart to climb the stairs.
He watched her warmly rounded hips roll sensuously in her thin dress and noticed a smudge on the side of the garment. There was a run in the nylon beneath.
"What happened to you?" he demanded. "Were you rolling on the ground with that Wheeler twerp?"
Maybelle cast an anguished, guilt-tinged glance down at her uncle. Saying nothing, she hurried the rest of the way up the stairs.
Hobart hopped to the staircase in pursuit, thinking he had another just cause to punish her. He could still feel her springy buttocks compressing against his hand . . . and he could see them in his mind's eye as they quivered erotically and turned pink.
Letting out a little cry, Maybelle ran along the upstairs hall to the bathroom, choosing it instead of her room because the bathroom door could be locked. She ducked into the John, shut the door and quickly turned the bolt.
She snapped on the light and stood with her back against the door, breathing hard.
"That's all right, girl!" she heard her uncle say threateningly. "You'll have to come out sooner or later. And I'll be waiting . . ."