Chapter 2
Jesus! It was nutsville on the home front, and I was kinda glad just ta get my butt out of there!
Mom and Dad all of a sudden got well, I don't know WHAT they got, but whatever they got, they got it bad.
Bad isn't the word.
Let me explain it to you.
One day I came home from basketball practice, you know, a hard session just whipping that ball through the hoop, and by the time I get home, I'm beat and all I want is a chance to sit down and get some grub into my gut.
So I come home and this weird noise coming from the kitchen, like there's a couple folks bein' tortured to death, makes me kinda creep up quiet like a cat to see what the hell is cuttin' looses.
And what the hell to I see but dad lying on the table gettin' himself a little practice puttin' the ball through the hoop.
I couldn't believe he'd carry on that way with Mom, so I waited to see just who the hell the broad was that he was humpin' on, and you coulda knocked me over with a feather. Shit you wouldn't have even needed a feather. You coulda just breathed on me and I woulda slammed down on the floor like a sack of horseshit.
Christ, I didn't even really think my folks DID IT any more! I mean, that's logical, right? Sure when they're young, you expect them to mess around a little bit, but after a certain it point, don't you think you have a right to expect them to tighten up their act and start acting like responsible adults?
And here they were goin' at it like they were a couple rabbits!
I think I should have been disgusted.
But ya know, for old codgers, they weren't half bad at it.
It looked fun. Looked sexy even.
Well, I figured the last thing they wanted was me poppin' round the corner, findin' them goin' to it like they were maniacs, so I went back outside and cooled my heels until I figured ANYONE would have been finished, even the couple with the Olympic record for long distance, and I go in there and damn if they aren't just finishing up.
Geez, maybe a guy CAN learn SOMETHING from his parents after all.
This time when I went in, I crashed around like I was a hard core juvenile delinquent vandalizing the place.
So, by the time I got to the kitchen, they had almost gotten their act together.
Almost.
Dad was still as hard as rock, and Mom couldn't seem to get her blouse to stay closed.
And there's this whopping come spot in the middle of the tablecloth oh, not that huge I guess, just about the size of Lake Michigan.
It was pretty weird, trying to eat dinner and ta keep my eyes and my mind off that big damp spot.
Mom tried to keep the salad bowl over it, but the salad bowl didn't begin to cover it it was like one of them tiny toy derbys that don't even try to cover a clown's head but just kinda perch there for comic effect.
The effect of the come spot wasn't all that comic though. It made me just a little ill.
When I reached for the salad bowl, Mom slapped my hand and said she'd dish me some out, so she went and got a salad serving fork (bet it's the first time it was ever even USED) and dished me some out.
Boy, that was a laugh.
And from that night on, things got weird, like these guys weren't my parents at all, but a couple of sex mad kids.
Finally, it got so bad they decided they needed a second honeymoon.
They decided on Las Vegas.
I don't know why they had to go to Las Vegas for their honeymoon.
Shit, they seemed to be doing just DANDY in the kitchen.
I can't even bring my mind to touch on what they must have been doing in the bedroom.
So over break, they shipped me off to Chicago to stay with Aunt Chloe.
I tried to convince them that I was mature enough to stay by myself, but there was no soap there. They were scared that I'd use the empty house for evil purposes like bringing in helpless young girls and givin' them the royal skin treatment.
Well, of course they were right, but if I were laying a girl I'd be more mature about than they were.
You can bet I'd screw her on a nice soft bed and not on some damn kitchen table.
So, there I went to Chicago to visit dear Aunt Chloe, which was a real laugh 'cause I didn't really remember her worth shit anyway.
I seemed to remember she was okay, and not bad looking for an aunt, considering that when you have an aunt you automatically expect that she'll have this big saggy tits and breath that make an onion start to cry.
So okay, there I am, taking this elevator up to the top of this deluxe highrise, my tacky suitcase in one hand and my raggy looking jean jacket in the other, and everything I'm wearing has a hole in it somewhere, as I'm not and never have been the world's snazziest dresser.
And my hair's greasy, and I'm feeling vaguely like shit, 'cause the bus ride into Chicago (shit, you think my parents are gonna spring for plane fare for their kid simply because THEY are taking one of them luxurious Boeing 727's all the way to Las Vegas? That's a laugh) was rough as a rodeo and all I want to do is stretch out in a bathtub and try and forget that I'm alive for a while.
The door of the elevator opens and I'm right in the hallway to Aunt Chloe's penthouse (it's the only apartment on the floor which means basically that it IS the floor).
There's someone there to take my bag, and that's when I remember that Aunt Chloe has two daughters, Linda and Andrea.
I also remember they are as snotty as hell.
What makes me remember this is that standing there to greet is the one I remembered being called Andrea.
Well, she didn't exactly greet me.
She looked me up and down like she thought that the elevator had delivered me straight up from hell, and then she said, "Mom is expecting you. C'mon."
Then she turned without another word and led me through the hall, and through another doorway into the largest living room that I had ever seen.
"Your room is down that hall, the second door on the left," she said, not even turning to look at me, walking away with her nose up in the air like this penthouse wasn't high enough for her she still had trouble breathing the air that was so close to earth. I guess she had reason to be so stuck up.
She was gorgeous.
Gorgeous like the girls in those magazines that make you sorry that you're alone and have only yourself to play with when you're looking at them.
She had long, blonde hair, that swung almost as much as her round little ass did when she walked.
And she had these pear-shaped tits, that looked ripe enough to ... well, you get the picture. There was just enough of them that if you were so lucky as to get your mouth around one of them, it would fill your mouth and still leave a little for your hand to play with. Generous tits.
To bad she wasn't anywhere near as generous as they were.
All things considered, I thought as she walked away, if I were to think of the ten girls in the entire world I wanted to lay, she'd be one of them.
I turned my head, and then I saw another one of them.
It was Linda.
I had started down the hall that led to my room when she walked from the bathroom across to her room, slamming her door behind me.
In between the time she left the bathroom until the time she got to her room and shut the door, I saw quite a lot of her.
It wasn't that it took her a long time to get from the bathroom to her room.
It was that her room was next to the one that I was to have, and that her path took her right in front of me, and that she wasn't wearing a thing.
Not a goddam thing!
Except a lot of beautiful, beautiful skin.
She shot me a glance as she went by, not a shy glance or an embarrassed glance.
It was more like a glare that said, "How dare you be in this hall when I decide that I want to walk to my room naked!"
As if it was my fault she was naked as the day she was born (or more naked, 'cause there was a hell of a lot more to her).
She was a lot different in looks from Andrea.
She had dark hair, it looked black, but maybe it was real dark brown. I'm not sure. I had better things to look at than her hair.
Her skin was light, nearly white, which made a neat contrast with her long hair as it streamed down her body.
As far as tits, well, she didn't have much in the way of MASS to brag about, but she had the CLASSIEST set of little boobs that I think I ever saw.
They were high up on her, and they were small white cones, like of vanilla ice cream, and they had these pretty little cherries that stuck out on top.
I swear that's exactly what they looked like. The nipples really stuck out too, and they were really cherry red, which made them look sexy as hell as they kinda peeped through her long dark hair, like they were so hot they would probably just burn through anything they touched.
I don't think I ever wanted to get my mouth and my hands on anything so bad in my life, that's the truth. Hope I'm not grossin' ya out, but I'm a young fella, and I want to be honest about what goes through my mind.
And those tits on the Lovely Ms. Linda, shit, they're the stuff that dreams are made of! I never liked vanilla ice cream before, but after I saw those tits, for days afterward I found myself in one ice cream place after another, lappin' up them cones.
And the people behind the counter always looked at me funny when I said, "Could I have a cherry on top, please?"
"On a CONE?" they would ask. "People just don't get cherries on top of CONES!"
But I always insisted.
I got more to tell you about the lovely Linda, but I'm gonna save that for the finale of this chapter.
I know when I'm reading something or watching a movie, I always go in for a strong finish, so I figure I should put this down like it was something I'd maybe not think was too bad if I read it.
So before we get to Linda (and believe me, I'm just as hot to get to Linda as YOU are) there's a few things I gotta get out of the way first.
I want to describe that penthouse just a little more, and describe to you my Uncle Jerry (that won't take too long, he doesn't have much that's worth describing he's a jerk) and then I have to describe to you my Aunt Chloe and that won't take too long either. Not because she isn't worth describing in RACY detail, but because when I get on the subject of that particular lady, words kinda fail me.
Now, first that penthouse. That place was like a goddam museum. I mean it.
All the walls were white even the bedrooms and the bathrooms and on every single wall there were paintings.
And these weren't those kind of paintings that you send in boxtops for or that you buy for a measly twenty-five or fifty bucks from joker hawking his stuff on the sidewalk like he was selling sausages.
No sir, not these paintings.
These paintings were all by people whose names you'd know for sure if I told them to you, only I can't tell them to you because I don't remember the names.
I'm not what you call one of the foremost art scholars in the U.S. of A.
When it comes to all that modern painting crap, all I can think of when I look at those scribbles and squibbles and splatters that look like the guy ate something exotic and then threw up, all I can think of when I look at that shit is that the guys at my high school that draw all that weird stuff on the inside of the stalls in the boys room with their Flairs and magic markers they're wasting their time.
All they gotta do is stop drawing stuff that you can sorta figure out what it is (I mean like, you know, those really rude drawings of tits and cocks and all that) and start drawin' stuff that you can even begin to figure out what it is and then they'd have something.
Maybe all it takes for one of them bathroom artists to become really famous is that he gets his head bashed in for writing something really obscene some day, and this causes him to lose some of his (already precious few) IQ points.
So at this point, he's a TOTAL moron and now he's got everything he needs to be a modern painter.
All of which is to explain to you why I can't give you the names of the jokers that painted all those scribbly drawing that hung all over the walls of my aunt's penthouse.
And besides, with all that INCREDIBLE tits and ass just waltzing around that place, I'm s'posed to be bent over with a magnifying glass try in' to see who the hell painted something that looks like his fountain pen leaked?
No way.
What else about the penthouse?
Well, the layout was kinda interesting.
There was that huge central living room that I came into when I got off the elevator.
It was so big that even with all the jazzy contemporary (that stuff was so contemporary, it looked like the time for it hadn't even COME yet, and I kinda hope it never does) furniture they had in it, it still looked like a furniture warehouse after a clearance sale, with nothing left except the really weird things that no one wanted.
And going off this STUPENDOUS living room, there were four hallways.
Each of the hallways led to one wing of the house.
And each wing of the house was the territory of one of my beloved relatives.
Uncle Jerry had the gray wing (they told me it was really a shade of blue, but it looked gray to me) and that really matched his personality (or his lack of it).
Andrea had the yellow wing, may be because it matched her hair.
Linda had the pink wing. It was HOT pink. And that really matched Linda's personality. (More on that later I'm a man of my word.)
And Aunt Chloe had the burgundy wing.
Why burgundy?
I think I figured that out.
I certainly had time to figure it out.
And what I came up with was that if red is the color of sin (and authorities tell me that it is, except that I wonder, do Cardinals wear red robes, and is that why they're called Cardinals? Feel free to call me long distance on this one if you have the answer) then burgundy is the color that sin turns to when it REALLY starts to get decadent.
And burgundy is a RICH shade of red.
So burgundy is the perfect color for rich people who are steeped in decadence (hope I spelled that right, big words aren't my strong point). .
And that's why burgundy is the perfect color for my Aunt Chloe.
Not that I mean to give you a bad impression of Aunt Chloe.
I like her.
I like her a lot, for reasons I may or may not tell you depending on how much I figure I want to let out about ... about things that happened between her and me.
But the fact is that my dear Aunt Chloe is rich and I think she got a little too rich too fast, so that she is, I don't know, steeped in decadence (once you pick up a big word you always seem to use it, did you notice that? It's not so much that you want to impress people, it's that it always just seems the PERFECT word for every occasion).
Aunt Chloe and from here on out, I'm just calling her Chloe, because I know her pretty good, and she tells me always, "Just call me Chloe," and on top of that it is the ultimate drag to have to say "Aunt" every time I say "Chloe" so from her on out you'll REMEMBER I'm sure that she's my aunt, it won't cause you half the pain in the butt to remember that as it would cause me to keep saying it over and over, so that's the way we'll play it, and that's it. 'Nuff said.
Chloe.
Geez, she's incredible.
She was amazing even when she was a little kid.
She was smart as a whip and she knew what she wanted.
She grew up with my mom, of course, and so I know what her childhood was like.
It was like shit.
A lot like shit.
In fact, I'd be tempted to say that it WAS shit.
Chloe and my mom grew up in this crappy house that was in the positively worst part of this shitty little city in New Jersey.
Mom took me to see the house once when we were in New Jersey to see some of her family, but the house wasn't there.
As near as anyone could remember, a couple of kids had burned it down with a can of gasoline just for fun once.
It had been vacant for years and nobody seemed to miss it much, even though there was nothing on the lot but burnt out scraps of wood and a lot of weeds.
But mom cried a little. Not that she had such hot memories of that old dump herself, but she's really a sentimental slob for stuff like that.
Anyways, Chloe grew up like mom in that shitty house, and their father was a REAL tuna fish. He used to get drunk and beat up everybody in the house, including the kids and the cat.
Once he even beat up the goldfish. He only got to do that once, because it croaked.
Goldfish aren't noted for their staying power.
Chloe, from the time she could open her eyes, she knew she wanted to get out of that place.
And damn if she didn't. I really have to admit that my mom did alright. She married my dad, and he's one hell of a guy (five THOUSAND times the man that Uncle Jerry is).
But Chloe wanted the finer things in life, and you got to admire her, cause that's exactly what she got in spades.
She met Jerry when she was sixteen, and she had her hooks into him so deep by the time she was seventeen, that he had to get engaged to her, even though his daddy threatened to cut him out of the will if he did.
But that was before daddy met Chloe.
Jerry's daddy was even crazier over Chloe than Jerry was, and Chloe turned Jerry into an absolute goony bird for her.
So they were married when Chloe was eighteen, and Jerry was I don't know how old. Somehow I think Jerry was always the same age: about two weeks this side of senility.
Shit and horse feathers! I haven't told you all I wanted to tell ya, but I'm tired of writing. I'm not what ya call a man of letters.
But I promised ya Linda for the finale, and I'm gonna give ya Linda in all her hot pink glory.
Now I'm doin' this even though I gotta skip some other stuff I wanted ta tell ya, so you guys out there just better be grateful!
This thing that happened, happened that first night that I was at the penthouse.
I had made myself real cozy in my room, and I was lying there, reading one of the classier hot magazines that Jerry had sitting out on the coffee table in the living room.
You wanna know the name of the magazine?
Penthouse, of course.
Well, I was lying there reading it ( no kidding, I was READING it I mean they do have articles in there, after all), and I hear this humming noise coming from somewhere out in the hall.
I wasn't loud, not like a vacuum cleaner or nothin, just this low, soft hum like there's a Hare Krishna freak doin' his "OOMMMMMMMM" bit outside my door.
It wasn't an irritating sound, but it was just enough noise to tickle my curiosity (which is the second most tickle-able part of my person).
So I got up and I opened my door and looked down the hall.
The noise was coming from the bathroom, and the bathroom door was open a little ways, and a little line of light was angling from the crack. I followed that line of light to the door.
Now why was I so curious about the noise, you ask.
Well, I was curious about Linda, and from the description I gave you of her glorious bod, if you have to ask why, you shouldn't be reading this book.
And see, she and me ... well, we didn't hit it off real good.
I saw her a couple of times that day, but she was just darting from one room to another and she didn't even look at me if she could avoid it.
I wanted like hell to see her, but she didn't want anything to do with me.
The reason was that she was miffed and double miffed that SHE was the one that had to share her wing of the house with THE CREEPY RELATIVE (that's me) while everybody else still had their wing all to themselves.
So I guess the way she decided to handle this disgusting situation was that she was going to ignore me, and pretend that I really wasn't there at all.
That way, she'd still have the wing all to herself and me, I'd just be the invisible man.
So now, when I saw another chance to get a glance of her, and maybe if I worked it right, an actual chance to COMMUNICATE with Her Highness, I jumped at it.
Well, I didn't really jump at it.
I sneaked at it.
I edged up to the door, and I peeked in to see what I could see of this young female marvel.
I saw a lot more than I expected.
She was wearing a bathrobe and it was hanging loosely open so that it still hid her perfect boobies (I could form a fan club dedicated to those tits!) but her beautiful, bushy little beaver was plainly visible. It was a nice enough sight to make my heart fly into my pants. She was holding the humming thing in her hand.
At first glance, it looked like a toothbrush, one of those imagine electric kind you'd expect would be standard equipment for rich people.
But I noticed that she didn't seem quite sure how to use it. She was holding it different ways to find the best grip.
Then I saw that there was a box on the counter by the sink. It was a new toothbrush, and she was just figuring out how to use it.
Except that it wasn't a new toothbrush at all.
It was a new vibrator.
And she was figuring the best way to hold it when she rammed it up her little box. OH GOD!
My knees went weak. I prayed and prayed that she wouldn't go to the door and lock it. She didn't.
She was absorbed in what she was doing.
She stood in front of a full-length mirror and leaned back against the wall.
She spread her legs a little, and stood there, looking herself up and down, like she loved what she saw.
I sure loved what I saw.
She had nothing on but that hot pink terry cloth bathrobe and a matching pair of pink sandals that had laces that went halfway up her beautiful, slender calves.
And there she was, those perfect, slim legs spread so that formed a wide angle that pointed right up to her fuzzy-thatched love box.
You know how some girls have legs that seem to exist just to lead your eye right up to their pretty little slits?
Well, Linda had just those kind of legs.
They took your eye all the way up their slim calves and all the way up their lusciously widening thighs until there was no more lusciously widening thigh to look at, and you were looking at their sweet, sweet little fuck slit.
And now Linda's hands were following the path that my eyes had taken.
She had put the vibrator down on the counter, and was running her hands up the side of her thighs, as if she couldn't believe how soft and yielding and wonderful they felt.
She caressed them, watching her hands as of she were mesmerized, as if it were some one else who was stroking her thigh flesh and making her all hot.
And she was getting turned on.
She opened her mouth wide to let out a sigh, and she kept her mouth open wide, as if she didn't want to shut it, because any minute she was going to start breathing fire.
She licked her lips, her wicked little tongue moistening the ' whole, red-hot rim of her mouth until her lips glistened.
She kept moving her tongue like that, and opening her mouth wider and then closing it a little, like she was hungry for something, hot and oh-so-hungry and horny for something to suck on.
Her hands were stroking the insides of her thighs now, running up and down sort of quickly, like she was trying to soothe the fire that was growing there.
She wasn't having much luck.
Her hands moved faster and faster and she began to pant, her lovely round boobies begining to really heave beneath the material of her robe.
They wanted to come out and play, and GOD! I was hoping that she'd let them.
She spread her legs wider and bent down to look at her pussy, taking her hands away from her thighs.
She looked down at her bush that was beginning to sparkle with her juice right in the area over her luscious little slit.
She smiled, and she snaked her hand down her belly, taking time to caress the firm flesh of her tummy.
She was proud of her figure, and proud of that flat little tummy.
Her hand came to the end of her belly, and she started toying with the beginnings of her curly cunt hair.
She combed her fingers through the hair and preened it like she just given it a permanent and she thought it looked lovely.
And shit, it did.
Her fingers moved through it lovingly, as lovingly as any boy's fingers, and then she began tracing one finger, her index finger, over the full, protruding little lips of her cunt.
She let out another sigh, almost a gasp, and spread her legs even further so she was almost doing the splits as she leaned back against the wall.
Then she took her whole hand and cupped her cute little cunt in it, and she moved her hand over and over it, moving up and down, up and down, until her pussy juice was really running and I could see some if trickle through her fingers as .she began moaning through her panting breaths.
Her legs were strained with being so far apart, and I could see the muscles in the thighs standing out with the strain of trying to open her pussy as much as she could to her caressing hand.
I was hard and I could feel a little cream in my pants already when she finally took her hand away from her cunt.
I could see a lot more pussy flesh than I could see before.
She was real excited now and the lips of her delicious hot pink pussy were full, and they were opening like the most beautiful pink rose I've ever seen.
She took two finger and ran them up and down the slit of her cunt, getting them as deep in there as they would go, and twisting those fingers around in there as she started saying "Oooo oooo oooo!" like she had found something fanstastic in there and she didn't want to drop it.
When she started working on her clit, I thought I was going to shoot my wad, and that it would torpedo right out of my pants and land smack on that delectable, juicy little teenage twat.
I had to remind myself that Linda was only seventeen.
She looked more like a woman than most women that have reached their full prime.
She spun her fingers round her twat until they were just a blur of whitefleash working over the pink flesh now it was turning angry, sexy, horny red of her clitty.
Oh God, I wanted to rush in their and help her!
But she was having just a swell time all by herself.
And now was tit time.
She reached a hand under her robe and began playing with her ripe, pert handful of breast flesh.
She was squeezing it, and rubbing it and fingering the nipple.
As near as I could tell.
She was doing it all under the robe, damn it!
Her fingers were still down between her wide-spread, straining legs, twirling around that clit that was standing out and was a cherry red as I remembered her nipples to be.
With her knowing fingers doing all the things that she really wanted done to her slit and to her tits, she was starting to pant even harder, and she was sweating.
There was silver sweat glittering all over every part of her body that I could see, and there were little rivers of sweat streaming down her forehead and down her cheeks as she closed her eyes tight to shut out anything except the hot sensations that her fingers were stirring up in her clitty and her nipples.
And finally, she was hot enough that she realized she didn't have any need for a goddam terry cloth bathrobe around her shoulders.
She pulled it down over her shoulders and let it slide down her arms to the floor.
And there she was.
All of her.
And those wonderful, gorgeous, incredible, incomparable well, I could go on and on, but there they were. Her tits.
They were lovlier than I remembered 'cause now they were turned on.
Boy, were they turned on.
The tips were so damn hot that there were RED, and I do mean RED, and they stabbed out from between strands of her shiny black her like they were searching hungrily for something to take them in, something to hold them, fondle them, suck them.
I was their man.
I hopped they'd get in touch with me soon.
But for now, Linda had them well in hand.
She cupped her hands over both of them, and her hands were just a little too petite to envelop all of them, so that the mounds of flesh were still somewhat visible as she palmed them and fondled them.
Every once in a while, the hot tips would peek through her fingers at me, and they looked happy at last to have something caressing them and sending thrills through their tips down through her boobs and down down down to her dripping pussy.
And it was dripping.
I could see the dew of it shining all over her bush and even a little bit down the side of her thighs.
Oh Lord God, this woman was so ripe to have a cock plunged into her wet sucking little cunt it was the worst form of torture for a man just to have to stand and look at her and be able to do nothing.
Well, there was something I could do.
There was only one remedy for my agony and I made the best of it.
I'm sure I looked like a total pervert standing out there in the hall with my thing in my hand, but, gosh, I'm a high school kid, what do you expect?
And if you had been seeing what I was seeing, I bet you woulda had your putz in your hand faster than I could say "Farah Fawcett-Majors."
So, I offer no more excuses, and now back to the scene.
She was having so much fun with her tits it was like she had actually forgotten about her pussy for a while.
She was loving them up until those happy little nipples were screaming for joy.
She had proud tits, which is what you would expect from a snotty bitch like that.
They really thrust out and said, "Look at me, ain't I gorgeous."
And they thrust out enough that even though they weren't very big, the Lovely Ms. Linda could take them in her hot, wet little mouth and suck them like the tips were the sweetest strawberry jelly beans in the world.
She cupped her hands on the underside of both of those terrific teenage tits and she bent them up as far toward her mouth as they could go.
It was just far enough so that she could lick at the nipples like she was a sexy kitten lapping up her milk, and then close her lips, still glistening from the way she kept licking them with her hungry tongue, close those sweet re lips around the throbby hot nipples and suck and suck and suck them.
She looked so hot and sexy doing that, just licking and sucking and loving her perfect tits, that I shot my load once already just watching.
But there was more of a show left to come, and there was plenty of time to reload my sex pistol.
She was lickin' them so furiously that if they had been vanilla ice cream, they woulda been long gone by now.
And all the while she was fondling them round and round with her hands like she was shaping them out of clay or something.
Then she was so turned on she had to get back to business and bring herself off.
So she let go of one of her tits like it was the hardest thing she'd ever have to do in her life, and she dropped her hand down to her lovely little teenage love box, which was all juiced up and ready as hell for her fingers.
She put that hand down between those fleshy, straining thighs and she ran ran her long, red-polished fingers up and down that deep pink slit and when she found the clitoris she would swirl those fingers around it at top speed and start moaning like crazy.
Then she would trace over the slit again, up and down, and when she felt her clit had cooled off enough to take it, she would start at it again, rubbing against the hot little thing until her legs would start quivering and it looked like she was gonna drop to the floor 'caus? her legs were so weak from the flood of red-hot passion that was washing over her as she fingered her cunt and fondled her tit.
By this time her love hole musta been just cryin' to-have something stuffed up it, and she wasn't in any mood to let it go begging.
So she let her two fingers run back down her slit from her clitoris and when she was at the rim of her fuck box, she tickled around , the edge of it with her fingertips, just to get herself excited enough so that she could plunge those fingers in hard, without having to be to gentle about it 'cause she was heated up enough that she didn't want to have to bother with any subtle pussy fucking.
She wanted it hard and fast, like it was a guy's cock, a guy that she had turned on so hot with her perfect, incredibly fuckable, lithe, terrifically tittied and perfectly pussied young body.
She loved that body of hers with a passion, and I was sure as I watched her that her fantasy was that she was being fucked by a guy who loved that fantastic bod even more than she did.
And now she took those two fingers that were playing around the rim of her love hole and she plunged them in, hard and deep with one thrust.
"Ahhhhhh!" she cried, throwing her head back and clenching her eyes tight, like her fingers were the most marvelous dick on the most gorgeous lookin' jock in her high school.
And she really started fucking herself.
She thrust those fingers in and out and in and out, and she was bringing her ass down on them like there just wasn't enough of them to give her incredibly hungry pussy what she needed.
Watching her I could really tell that she was imagining that she was being fucked, fucked right as she stood there, leaning back against the wall, looking as hot and turned on as I've ever seen any girl look.
And her hand was working over her tit like it was really really aching and by massaging like mad, she could make that marvelous lust-ache go away.
It was the same thing down at her pussy.
Her fingers were rifling in and out of that panting little wet pussy like she was stoking the hottest most fiery little furnace this side of hell.
In and out and in those fingers went, her ass bouncing up and down like two twin rubber balls, bouncing so beautifully down on her fucking fingers that I damn near shot my stuff again.
But this time, I was determined to hang on for the climax.
And it was coming, so to speak.
She was reaching for that vibrator.
I stopped my hand from jerking up and down my cock, because just the THOUGHT of what she was going to do with that vibrator was enough to make me spurt my jazz.
The vibrator was like nine inches long, and it was light brown, like the cock of a lifeguard with an all over tan.
It was the perfect cock substitute-especially for Linda, 'cause it was made out of plastic.
She switched the thing on.
It made that hum, and her hand shook a little.
I don't think the vibrator would have made her hand shake so visibly.
I just think that she was so hot to get that thing up her twat that she was trembling with anticipation.
She grasped it with her right hand, right at the very bottom so that she could get every possible inch of its quivering length up her dripping pussy.
I had this fantasy for a second.
I thought: what if she's so wet, and so turned on that when she comes she cracks that vibrator with the contractions of her tight coming cunt, and the electrical charge from it zaps up her twat and tingles through all her juices and she electrocutes herself?
It would have been a tragic waste of resources.
But I don't think Linda could have thought of a better way to go. Her epitaph would probably read, "She would have wanted it this way."
To die making fervent love to the person she adored most in the world. How romantic. How fucking romantic.
And now that electric prick was poised at the lips of her cunt.
And, as she watched herself intently in the mirror, she eased that thing up her tight fuck hole, slowly, slowly, slowly, feeling the tremors that rippled through her cunt and felt as dreamy as any cock could ever feel.
She wanted watch that quivering cock-thing push all the way up her twat, so she tried like hell to keep her eyes open.
But the feel of that thing pushing in that hungry, hot sucking hole between her legs and sending vibrations that radiated like little licking flames of lust all up her pussy tunnel and all down her legs and all up her belly and to her breasts ... those feeling were so delicious and so absorbing that she had to keep closing her eyes and the waves of ecstasy engulfed her and washed over her mind so completely that she was totally blind to anything else.
And then she pulled the electric prick back out of her pussy.
It was coated with her juices, it shined like a real prick would that had plunged into that wet and ready hole.
I wished to hell it was my cock!
But I guess my cock was happy just to have me taking care of it the best I could.
I could tell she wasn't going to last long without coming, and that was good, 'cause I sure as hell wasn't going to last long at all.
She had pulled herself together a little so that she could focus on the image of her perfect, proud, naked and fucking self in the mirror.
Keeping her eyes open was an effort, but I guess it was worth it, because being able to watch herself get fucked up her perfect pussy with that better than human cock made her even more excited than she had been before.
She plunged that thing in and out, fast and hard now, fast and hard just the way I would have done it, just the way any guy would have done it after being turned on so hot by the sight of her dripping, come-ready pussy and her proud, hot-pointed firm white tit mounds.
To see a girl fucking herself not like you'd expect to see her working that shaking plastic shaft up her twat you'd expect her to do it sorta slow and lazy but to see her shoving it up her fuck box hard, hard like it was a hard, throbbing, live, come-filled, aching prick of burning, hungry flesh fucking herself like she was being fucked by a man who was using her box as a place to come as hard and fast as he could because if he didn't, he was going to explode seeing that, well, it made my heart pound in my pants, and made it pound so hard I bet if Linda wasn't moaning and sighing and crying with the feel of that cock-thing pushing up her hot wet suck-box that she could have heard the throbbing of my cock.
So I was whacking off like crazy, my hand flying up and down my prick as it stuck out through my open fly, as she pounded that thing into her.
She groaned as she twisted down on it, screwing her hips round and round and the same time she was driving her slit down over and over it, hard as she could.
Her hungry wet hole went down and down and round and round that thing until, plastic or not, I could swear it would come, come in a shower of sparks, shorting out from the heat of her passion.
Her knees were buckling.
She just couldn't stand up any more.
She had to lie down.
So she slid down the wall, just kind of let herself ooze down it, like she wasn't even conscious that it was happening, as she moved that quivering electric fuck-rod in and out of her hole all the while, and fondled that tit like crazy.
And then she was on the floor.
She kept her head leaned back against the wall so that she could still adore herself in the mirror while she fucked her hole.
She put her knees up, bring her heels almost up to her ass as she lay on her back, watching that fuck-thing lunge in into her gaping, sucking, hot pink pussy hole.
Her hand switched tits, and as she began kneading the other one, she started to chant this stuff.
I didn't hear all of it, 'cause it was all in a moaning mumble, and sometime the sound of her turned-on breathing was louder than the words.
It was something like a little kid babbling.
But no little kid could ever talk this dirty.
"Oh fuck me, fuck Lindals. hot hungry pussy," she panted, "Cock, cock, cock, fuck my box and make me come. You come in my box, you long, long, lovely prick. Feel my pussy licking your prick. Ohhhhhhhhh!"
And she said this in perfect rhythm with the fucking of her cunt, saying "Cock, cock, cock," to punctuate every hard thrust into that wide, ready, juicy, pussy that she was trying to stuff full of that hard plastic trembling prick-thing.
Then she arched her round, firm teenybopper ass off that floor, pushing off on her feet to bring her pussy mound up into the air like she was straining against the belly of the guy who was fucking her to rub her slit and clit against his pubic mound.
I think she was so carried away by this time that she really didn't realize there wasn't a big, bronze life guard with a nine inch electric prick fucking her incredibly hot slot, thrusting down on her hard, hard and fast and lust-crazed for her lovely, lithe, writhing, squirming, cock-starved, long legged, ripe-assed, pointy-titted young body.
When she arched up like that and didn't feel anything rubbing against her red-hot clit button, she decided that her hand was more sorely needed there than it was kneading her warm, soft, melting breast flesh and burning tit-tip, so she plunged her hand into her slit, running her fingers up and down the hot pink, bubble-gum soft canal of her cunt until finally settling her fingertips right down on her throbby hard clit.
And once her fingers started playing with that horny red little rod, I knew it was the beginning of the end.
Her fingers fucked at that clit, working it round and round at the speed of light, and her other hand was plunging that prod-rod up her hole all the way all the way!
I couldn't believe it.
Her young teenage box taking nine inches of driving cock.
She must have been the hottest little bitch in Chicago.
"Fuck me harder, fuck me harder! I'm coming! More! More cock!" she yelled, and I knew she was totally gone, totally lost in being fucked by her dream man.
And there she was, splayed open on the bathroom floor in front of that mirror, that trembling cock rod fucking into her with a life of its own, and there I was, with my putz in my palm, fucking myself as hard and fast as she was.
I felt somehow very loving toward her; for a moment I was her lover and I was giving her all I had, not just for my satisfaction, but because I wanted to give that perfectly beautiful kid the come of her life.
And from the load I shot, I think I just might have.
She let out a scream; it was so high pitched that it didn't make much sound like a dog whistle. But even though it wasn't loud, it was the sexiest scream I've ever heard.
She was screaming with pure, electric, coming joy.
She plunged that rod all the way up into her hole, so far that there was no more of it left for her to grip onto.
She lost her grasp on that cock rod as she started to come, so she just clasped both her hands over her pussy, tight, as that electric fuck-thing quivered and shivered up inside her pussy, filling it with its long, round he-man prick dimensions, sending shock after shock of vibrating come-signals up her squeezing, twisting, hot, throbbing, juicy love tunnel.
"Oh Jesus, I'm coming!! ! ! " she yelled, arching up hips up until they seemed well the they way to the ceiling, and wiggling her ass round and round as the cock-think went on shaking a fucking inside of her, totally enveloped by her contracting climaxing cunt.
Try as hard as you can to imagine what that looked like.
'Cause if you can see it in your mind even HALF as well as I saw it, it just might give you the come of your life.
I was shooting more jazz than I thought I had in me, and still I could feel my rod spasming in my hand, jerking even after there was no more come to shoot out my burning flesh shaft.
And Linda came for a long, long, long time too, her hips pointed up at the ceiling like she was frozen there, her hand clenched over her cunt as if they were trying to keep that throbbing, living electric cock from fighting its way out of her oh-so hungry cunt.
She never wanted to let that thing go. But then it was over.
Her hands slid away from her wide, wet, hot pink pussy, and her hips floated back to the floor as the vibrator eased its way out of her cunt.
She pulled the thing that had given her so much pleasure the rest of the way out of her box, and brought it up to her eyes and looked at it.
Then she put it down by her side and covered herself up with her bathrobe and closed her eyes.
She was so exhausted, she drifted off to sleep.
And for some reason, she had tears streaming down her face.
That really kinda floored me.
I mean, to see that the girl had some emotions, even if only when she was sleeping.
I don't know why, but it made me kinda like her.
Hard to explain stuff like that.