Chapter 1
"Make out with me, honey!" Candy Evans cried. "Quit teasing me and push it in!"
Dee Evans, Candy's older sister, put her ear to the wall that divided her bedroom from the adjoining room, where her young, plump and blonde sister was about to get the works.
How can she say such things? Dee thought, shuddering. How can she be so horribly lewd? She acts so nice and prissy all the time. I'm glad I sneaked back home so I could really find out what they do!
"Ohhhhh, that's the way." Candy moaned loudly. . "Drive it deep!"
"Hell, I'll make you yell louder than that, baby." Dick Ulster grunted. He had been going with Candy for about a month.
Dee jerked her ear from the wall and dropped onto her own bed. She could hardly believe her senses. Pretty, rounded Candy was barely grown.
I'm twenty-five and still a virgin, Dee thought miserably. I never have any fun, I don't even have a boy friend. Candy's been dating since she was fourteen. Ohhhh, hell. I almost hate her. Dick is twenty-one and so big and handsome. It isn't fair!
Ever since grade school 4ays in Sumpter, a rough lumbering village, Dee had carried the nickname of Legs. She was nearly all legs. She despised the description, it still clung to her. No matter how she dressed, her gangly legs constantly embarrassed her.
She couldn't think of her loneliness now, though. The sounds from Candy's room grew even more suggestive. It wasn't necessary for Dee to place her ear against the dividing wall; the noises came through clearly.
The mere idea of a single girl enjoying sneaky pleasure with her boy friend, going the route, sent sweet shudders of longing through Dee's cunt. She could imagine almost every detail. Candy, her soft, plump thighs spread, her pink-nippled tits pushing upward against Dick's chest; Dick's hips thrusting, his young, stiff cock sliding in and out. It was too much.
"Ohhhhh!" came faintly from the adjoining bedroom. "Ohhhh, honey!" It was Candy's plaintive cry of delight, as he rested again.
I can't bear it! Dee thought, shivering, her long thighs spreading. I have to use my hand on my cunt again! I'm so sick of it I could die! But I have to have relief.
She was dressed for going downtown; it was Saturday morning, and she didn't work, but she had planned some shopping at the village. She had been drawn back home when she had seen Candy and Dick climb out of his hotrod in front of the home shared by her mother, Sarah, Carl, Sarah's new, young husband, and Dee and Candy. Carl and Sarah, now forty-five, had driven into Spokane and wouldn't be home until late that evening.
Dee had delayed her shopping trip; she had parked her car in the alley behind the house and had slipped quietly up to her own room. Candy and Dick hadn't wasted any time; obviously they had been doing their thing for months, and with older sister out of the way, the parents gone, the young lovers could use Candy's bed for their pleasures.
As exciting as this was, Dee had endured other remindful noises from the master bedroom. Dee's room was between Candy's and the one shared by Carl and Sarah. Candy's and Dee's real father had been killed over a year before in a logging accident, and Sarah had married a husky, young, timber operations foreman, sixteen years her junior!
Dee hadn't realized, until recently, just how passionate her mother really was. Carl and Sarah had sex three or four times a week, and sometimes it lasted for hours. The inner walls of the house weren't insulated, and the rattle of bedsprings sometimes became so loud they seemed to be right in Dee's own room.
Dee realized she should move out and find her own apartment; she could easily afford it. But she had to admit that she enjoyed the vicarious delights of listening. Carl was very handsome, friendly. He was the only man Dee had ever really talked to who seemed to understand her situation. He even complimented her on her appearance.
In searching her mind for other motives for staying home, where she was welcome, she discovered that she was achingly and furiously attracted to Carl, and jealous of her own mother. Recently she had caught him observing her body, and she had started wearing dresses and slack outfits that displayed her long legs.
Even the people she worked with, at the Sumpter Lumber Mill office, remarked about her change in appearance. Her features were all right, actually. She had her mother's sensual, full mouth, and her tits were adequate. She was wearing more makeup and giving her rich, brown hair more attention.
But her basic fault was inside. She was introverted, shy and backward. She read too many books, some of which were highly stimulating. She carried around too many of her old fears; people still called her legs. She felt much too tall, although she was just five-ten. Terri Connell, the sexy redhead who worked in the same office, was about the same height, and she didn't lack for dates.
But Terri was breezy, outspoken, and knew how to flirt and dress. The salesmen who came by the office were always asking her out. At twenty-four, Terri still was single, an oddity in a community like Sumpter; she often went to Spokane alone, where she did most of her dating.
Terri was about the only real girl friend Dee had, but Terri never got around to asking Dee about double-dating.
However, just recently, Terri had suggested that the two girls take in a movie at Spokane; there had been only a vague hint about the possibility of finding two suitable men. Anyway, Dee wasn't sure she could giggle and flirt and act the way Terri did around men, as badly as she wanted to.
I've never had a real date in my life. Dee thought. I've never been kissed or fondled. I'm an old maid. Ohhh, what a hateful word.
"Ohhh!" came startlingly from Candy's bedroom. The bed-noises were louder, the creaks closer together. They were getting ready to climax!
Dee knew all about fucking; she had heard it often enough from the master bedroom. Sarah's ecstatic moans of delight and Carl's grunts of pleasure were burned deeply in her brain.
Dee stretched out on her bed, fastening her right hand on her pantied cunt. Wetness leaked through the thin nylon onto her fingers. She felt her clit stiffening, her tits swelling, tautening inside her bra. She was feverish with need, she hadn't masturbated for two days.
The fact that Candy and Dick were enjoying illicit sex seemed to hike Dee's excitement. She knew Candy was taking pills; the pretty blonde could enjoy herself completely. She could accept the gush of Dick's come without care or fear.
I'm going to have it now. Dee thought, shuddering. I can't wait! Ohhh-ohhh-here it comes!
Candy's bed shook, one post was rubbing on the dividing wall. The racket was amplified; they were going at it very recklessly because they believed they were alone in the big house.
MOh-honey!" Candy wailed. "I'm going off."
Dick's answer was drowned by the creaking of bedsprings. The terrible, naughty words, from such young, soft hps, roared through Dee's being.
How can she say such a thing! Dee thought dizzily.
It's dirty. Sarah doesn't even yell filthy words when she has her orgasm. She really moans; but she keeps it clean.
Dee wanted to thrust her hips wildly against her bed, but she couldn't let her sister know she was eavesdropping. She vibrated her hand swiftly on her pussy, and the sweet, familiar nuances of pleasure racked her cunt. Oh, it was awfully sharp and good today. Something deep inside was stirring and shivering as it never had before.
"Ohhh-ohhh-ohhhh!" came piercingly from the next room. "Shoot me, honey! Pour it to me."
Dee shuddered achingly through her climax, her long legs trembling, her tits arching, the waves of relief sharper and more delectable than any she could remember. Her panty was a sopping mess.
Candy's last scream, her passionate outburst, as filthy as it seemed in Dee's mind, had somehow enriched Dee's orgasm. She rested, panting, shivering, her hand still on her cunt, as the noises from the next room diminished.
"Was I really sexy that time, honey?"
"Man, you're swingin', baby!" Dick chuckled. "When are you going to say the big word?"
"Ohhhh, you awful thing, you!" Candy giggled. "Next time!"
Dee held her hands over her ears. She had to get out of the house. They were going to do it again, and she knew what word Dick wanted Candy to cry out. I hate her, I hate her! Dee thought, furiously. She's no better than a whore.
Guiltily, Dee eased from her bed and tiptoed to her door. She would have to clean herself downtown someplace. Any little sound would give her away, even the flush of a toilet.
Finally, after moments of tension, she was out in the alley, climbing in her car. She always had trouble getting out of an auto's front seat, and even more trouble getting inside, especially if she wore a dress, as she did today. Those long legs again!
Just as her modestly cut skirt crawled back to her pussy, and as she was forced to expose her moistened cunt, she saw a young man walking up the alley toward her. She didn't recognize him. Hastily, she jacked herself into the seat, behind the wheel, realizing the youth had glimpsed her entirely.
As he passed the car, uttering a muted 'hello' Miss, she saw a deep flush on his tanned, rugged face. Her own face was just as heated. There was something very shy and reserved about him; she liked him instantly, despite her embarrassment. She sat a moment, hands on the steering wheel, shivering. She looked behind, via the rear view mirror.
He had a wonderfully strong body. He was dressed in rough denims, which fit snugly, and she could see the virile lines of his figure, the lean hips and wide shoulders. But he was much younger than she, thinking about him in an intimate way was ridiculous.
She was stimulated by him, though. Not the way Carl aroused her curiosity, not the way any man had ever stirred her interest. Who was he? She had never seen him; he must be new in Sumpter.
John Bellows reached his bachelor quarters, in the basement of an old two-story house owned by Nell Winter, a widow. He locked the front door and opened his pants; he dropped into a deep chair.
The view up under that long-legged girl's dress, his glimpse of her pink, lacy panties pressed to her cunt, brought his prick up stiffly. What beautiful thighs she had! Slender, yet they tapered up to perfection at the hips. She had a nice face, a full mouth, rich brown hair, but her exposure had embarrassed her terribly. She's as shy as I am around the opposite sex!
He didn't know her name, he had only recently arrived in Sumpter, seeking work. And he had found it, thankfully. He was going out on a logging project on Monday. He had to find out who that long-legged girl was, where she worked-not that it would do him much good.
He slid his fingers up and down his long, big-knobbed prick. Juice was already dribbling from the sex hole. He squeezed the foreskin back, exposing the swelling knob.
That's never been in a pussy, he thought guiltily. I wonder how it would feel to actually screw a girl? I need it. I'm sick of jacking off. But what else is there? Just wild, dirty dreams and the lonely spurtings. Then the awful guilt, afterward.
He had discovered that masturbating wouldn't make him crazy, as his mother had warned. He enjoyed it, but it still was second best. A poor substitute for the real thing.
He was used to the rough language of lumber camps; he had worked in Northern Idaho before moving into Washington. He knew all the filthy words, the expressions lumberjacks used when talking about dames. His parents had been killed in an auto accident, and he had been on his own for over two years. He was in his teens, but he looked twenty-five; he lied about his age continually.
The size of his prick added to his confusion. He had a good eight inches, and it was over two inches thick when he had a hard-on. His co-workers, in the shower rooms at lumber camps, had kidded him about his endowment.
"You make the gals squeal when you fuck 'em?" was a typical remark. Or, "John, I know a whore that can take that much meat!"
The men he worked with, mostly married, had filthy minds; in one Idaho community the lumberjacks bragged about swapping wives. It was the going thing, evidently. But, in spite of all his familiarity with vulgarity, there was a zone in his being that these men never touched. He could think romantically about certain girls he saw. There was more to a woman than just a cunt and a pair of tits!
Soon, he would have to prove how much of a man he was by visiting a whore house. There were two in Sumpter, disguised as rooming houses.
For now, he had a new girl to dream about when he jacked off. The shy, long-legged beauty he had seen climbing into the front seat of her car. In a small town like this, he would soon learn her name, a lot about her. Maybe she was married. Somehow, though, he felt sure she was single. Married women in lumber villages weren't known for their modesty; and this girl had blushed lividly.
He had caught her with her long thighs wide apart, a very girlish pose. The memory of her pink, lace-trimmed panty was so vivid in his thoughts he was sure now that her cunt had been wet.
Had she, too, been masturbating? But why would she do that with her panties on?. He had seen her rush rather swiftly from the big house, into the alley. He recalled her limber-hipped walk, the sweet sway of her slender, rounded ass in the snug skirt. Her nylons had reached halfway to her cunt, leaving sexy zones of thigh exposed.
Man, I'm going to go off big this time! he thought, his hand moving slowly on his rigid cock. I'll shoot it up in the air a yard high! I haven't been this hot for a week.
Now, the lewd visions began to torture his brain. He was between those long, sexy thighs; he was licking her nipples and driving his burning cock into her pussy.
No! Not yet. He had to dream about dating her several times, first. He had to dream about sending her flowers and kissing her tempting mouth; they would be married before he dared touch her intimately. She would have to love him, and he would have to love her. That would make the sex part very right and proper.
Nell Winter peered down from her secret viewing place, an old ventilator that was ordinarily hidden by a rug in her bedroom. She liked to keep tabs on her renters; she liked to watch what they did. Usually, she rented the basement apartment to young married couples, so she could watch them have their sex-play before they went to bed to finish. The last young man and wife had often screwed on the living room sofa, or on the floor, and she had enjoyed that very much.
Nell was fifty, a widow with a very sensual nature and strong, urgent needs, which she satisfied with her hands and an imitation prick. She was quite prominent in social circles around Sumpter; she just couldn't let herself get involved with some drunken lumberjack, as much as she wished she could.
Her age was against her, too, although she watched what she ate, and she was proud of her legs and generous, sloping breasts. She still had her figure, even if the lines around her neck gave her away. Her last, real sex had been with an older salesman in Spokane, and he hadn't been able to satisfy her; one orgasm and he was finished.
What she craved was a young lover. Like John Bellows.
When he had called on the phone about her ad in the local weekly paper, she had almost turned him down. But his voice had sounded interesting, and the moment she saw him she was glad to let him take the apartment. A man his age would surely have girl friends; and she would have more vicarious thrills!
Well, it wasn't happening that way, yet. He was jacking off. And that was almost as exciting as watching a man and a girl go at it.
What a huge prick he had! Thick and long and beautifully knobbed! Crouching in the darkness, her thighs apart, she felt wetness oozing from her pussy as John played with his cock. He wasn't rushing, as some of her renters had. Yes, the married men jacked off, too. They had girlie magazines around, and when wifey was away, they stared at nude photos of sexy girls and spurted shots out into the air.
Always before, Nell had been able to satisfy her hungers by watching and then masturbating. But John was different. He was basically a nice fellow, very shy; he was neat and dressed well, for the kind of work he did. He had all the earmarks of a gentleman, even at his age. Unusual. She had seen no liquor or beer around; evidently he didn't drink much, either.
She had wanted John in bed the first time she had seen him, and the urge was stronger all the time. Yes, she would masturbate, as usual, after a peeping session; but she knew already it wouldn't do enough for her. She craved John with a lewd, fierce craving that surprised her.
He's the only male I've really wanted since my husband died! she thought, shivering. Oh, I'm dying for it! I want his prick sliding in my cunt. I want his mouth on my nipples, I want him to fuck me. How awful I am. But how can lever interest such a young, rugged male? I just won't make an ass of myself! I have my reputation to think of. I might want to re-marry. And he can get all the pretty young things he wants! Ohhhh,I wish I had known what I know now when I was seventeen! Of course, we didn't have the Pill, but we had condoms. And I was afraid to use them. I didn't get laid until I was engaged to be married, at twenty.
Of course, I played with myself before that, but I was as green as grass. I didn't learn how to top-ride Al until I was almost thirty. Why couldn't some older man have shown me what to do? Al didn't know beans, either. We almost got divorced until I read that article about what some married girls did for variety. Ohhhh, hell.
I'd love to train John. I wonder how many girls he'd poked? Maybe none. What if I could get his cherry? Wouldn't that be something?