Chapter 3
Mike slid the car into the garage and cut the motor. "End Of the line!" he said with forced brightness. "All out here," he eased himself from the driver's seat, went around to the other side and opened the door for Kirst. She hopped out, seemed to stumble, and, as Mike caught her, threw her arms around his neck. "Oooooooh!" she squealed. "I fell." She maneuvered herself a little closer to Mike, clinging to his neck, pulling her lithe young body close to his strong, athletic one, the tiny, tender buttons of her nipples grinding into his chest like hard, bright beads, her pulsing little pussy pressing hard against his cock.
"Hey! Steady there!" Mike gasped, then peeled her off and set her down. He took his handkerchief out and wiped his forehead. "Whew! he breathed, "Sure is hot!"
"Think so?" Kirst shot back at him, and then darted off down the driveway and towards the garden path. Mike groaned, watching the brief skirt flipping above the rippling gold of her full thighs, swinging over the taut, tight little half moons of her young, liquidly moving buttocks, watching, too, the pert lewd little breasts tilted lasciviously under the thin sheer fabric of her blouse.
Jesus Christ! How was he going to handle her?
Handle! The ill-chosen word sent an obscene image careening through his mind in which his unimpeded fingers explored her slim young body, caressed the firm little breasts, traced the swell of her gold flecked belly, roamed downward to part the silky patch of sparse, curling pubic hair that nestled between the milky, sensuous thighs. He shook his head as if to clear it and wiped his forehead again. Get your mind out of the gutter, Mike Hole, he ordered sternly. She's practically a babe in arms. But looking at the flaxen blonde, dancing across the flag stones of the path, leaning over to pluck a flower while the mini-mini she wore rode half-way up her tight little ass, exposing the brief nylon panties she wore, he sucked in his breath. The sheer strip of fabric tightened snugly between her firm, lush thighs, and slipped excitingly into the thinly dividing crevice between her buttocks. He let out his breath with a slow whistle. Christ! He wished to hell he wasn't alone with her ... he wished to hell Sally was home.
Sally! The thought of his wife sent his stomach plummeting. What a bastard he was, getting hot in the pants over this little cock teaser when Sally was off taking care of her injured, possibly dying, sister. He sighed again, then stooped over and picked up Kirst's bags. "This way," he called as formally as he could.
Kirst looked up, smiling. "This way!"
He carried the suitcases into the house, waited for Kirst to appear, then shooed her upstairs.
"Your room's down the hall," he said, nodding towards it. He followed her in and set her luggage down. "There's a bathroom over there ... you might want to freshen up or something." He looked around; everything seemed to be in order, thanks to Sally. "I guess everything's okay," he said. "I'm going downstairs to have a drink. If you want anything, call me."
"You mean 'just whistle'?" Kirst grinned impishly.
Mike wheeled around. So she'd seen that movie, too. Well, he certainly wasn't going to do that ... if that was what she wanted. "I'm going downstairs," he said, going out closing the door behind him.
He went into the kitchen and mixed a martini for himself. He put the shaker and a glass on a tray, then got a Coke out of the refrigerator and another glass for Kirst. She'd be down soon, he knew. He carried the tray into the living room and sat down heavily on one of the sofas.
He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. God, if only he could think things through, sort everything out. He didn't want to think of this girl who was going to be sharing their home that way at all. Yet he couldn't erase the thought of that gorgeous figure, the round little breasts, smooth and white and inviting, the twin globes of her delicious little ass cheeks, the ... oh, Christ!
He looked up and she was standing there. "Want a Coke?" he asked.
The girl shook her head. "I'd rather have what you have," she said.
"I'm having a martini, and you're having a Coke," Mike said firmly.
Kirst pouted, "I want a martini too."
"Tough!" Mike opened the Coke bottle and poured the foaming liquid into a glass. "Here."
Kirst made a face, but took it anyway. She sat down on the couch near Mike, then slid cautiously towards him until her slim, sensuous thigh rubbed against his leg. She rested her head on his shoulder. "Something's wrong," she said.
"Nothing's wrong."
"Maybe ... " and the lower lip trembled, the eyes filled with tears " ... maybe you don't like me."
"Look, Kirst, I like you. I think you're great. It's just that ... that ... " Mike swallowed hard as the girl turned her body toward him and brushed her firm, luscious breasts against his arm next to her. His mouth suddenly felt dry and he licked his lips over and over. Why the hell did she do this to him! Just the sight of that voluptuous young body, practically bursting out of the skimpy outfit she wore, was enough to make his balls ache and his thick cock stiffen and jerk inside his pants. Jesus! He'd give anything to get her in the sack with him, give her what she was so blatantly begging for, send his throbbing, rigid penis plunging deep inside her time after time while she moaned and thrashed her hot little body under him. Jesus! He'd like to screw the kid silly ... ! Suddenly he asked, "How old are you, Kirst?"
Kirst lowered her eyes, her long, black lashes fluttering against her alabaster skin. "Fifteen and a half," she whispered.
"Fifteen! You wrote that you were 'going to be eighteen'."
"I had to," Kirst said. "Or you wouldn't have sent for me."
Roughly, Mike pushed her away and got up. "I'm going to get myself another drink," he said, his voice shaking with self-recrimination. He went into the kitchen, fumbling in the semi-darkness for ice, gin and vermouth. Fifteen! That was jail bait, wasn't it? He stirred his drink, feeling sick and disgusted. Setting the shaker down, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. What if this were Jean? What would he do?
He poured a drink and swallowed it in one gulp. Then he poured another. He knew damned well what he'd do-just what he ought to do to the cock teasing kid. March her upstairs to her room, seat himself on the bed there and yank her across his knees, pulling her skirt up over the soft, rounded cheeks of her buttocks while he gave her the spanking of her life. What did he care if she kicked and screamed? He'd wallop that little bottom until it turned beet red, raining one smarting blow after another on the tender flesh while she howled and sobbed and begged for mercy. And he wouldn't stop, either, until angry red welts appeared under those flimsy white panties she wore. By God! That's what he would have done to Jean. And God help him, he'd do it yet to Kirst!
With a wicked gleam of malice, he shifted his drink to his other hand, picked up a bowl of potato chips and another Coke, and carried everything into the living room. He handed the Coke to Kirst, and when she'd sipped daintily at it for a few minutes, he asked, "Are you hungry?"
Kirst shook her head. "Well," Mike said. "I am. I'm going to fix a sandwich-one for you, too, if you want it."
"Let me make it," Kirst said, springing to her feet. "That's what I'm here for, isn't it?" She shot him a sultry, heavy-lidded look that let him know she was available for a lot else, too, then got up and meandered across the room, her tight little ass twitching and swaying its own invitation back to him.
Mike waited nervously for her to come back. What the hell was the matter with him, sniffing around this little bitch like a dog in heat? He was old enough to be her grandfather-or almost. Oh, sure, he was a man, and there had been plenty of times before when he'd had the hots for some little chick, someone even a lot younger than he was. But here he was now, panting after this baby, almost lusting for a chance to slip some meat into that little pink pussy of hers. God! That would really be robbing the cradle.
He sighed as Kirst came back, carrying two plates with sandwiches on them. He gulped his quickly, washing it down with the glass of beer she brought to him. Then, abruptly, he got up. "I'm going to turn in," he announced. And, as an afterthought, "You can leave the dishes if you want. I'll show you how to work the dishwasher in the morning." Ignoring the disappointed look on her face, he went up to his room, shut the door and locked it.
After a cold shower, which didn't help him very much, he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. A little while later, he heard her climb the stairs and go to her room. He lay still, thinking of her ripe, voluptuous young body, her long, slender, well-shaped legs, her full, lush white rounded breasts.
His mind began to wander, and he remembered an x-rated movie he'd seen not long before with Sally. It had been one of those foreign movies, and there'd been a girl in it even younger than Kirst. But she'd had the same pert little face, the small, straight nose, the long-lashed eyes, the gorgeous ash-blonde hair. The movie had been about the girl's "Growing Up"-that was what the film was called. But it wasn't the ordinary case of growing up, getting older and bigger and wiser, too. This daring film emphasized sex in the little girl's life, from the days when she first began to notice it, through the time she had her first love affair and on, until she was shown-yes, actually shown-in a perverted episode where two men were fucking her at the same time.
An early scene from the film flashed through Mike's mind, the one where the little girl-and damned if it couldn't have been Kirst, herself-was out playing on the beach, tossing a ball up in the air and catching it, tossing it up again. But then she missed the ball, and it sailed off towards a beach house, half hidden in a clump of pines on a bluff. The little girl ran after it, even went up the steps of the house and onto the wide porch at the front of it. Something in the window there caught her eye, and, forgetting about the ball, she went over to peer inside. And there, Mike recalled, were two women, making love!
The older one, wearing some sort of beach robe, had slipped her hand under the top of the other, a younger girl's bikini, eased it down over the whiteness of her shoulders, exposing her firm, lush pointed breasts to full view. She began to stroke the magnificent rounded globes with a soft, tantalizing movement, pausing to take the rosy buds of her nipples between strong slim fingers, rolling and teasing and taunting them into hard little knobs. Then, as the little girl who looked so much like Kirst watched the lewd, lesbian scene through the window, the older woman stripped the bottom of the girl's bikini from her, and in almost the same gesture, dropped her own robe to the floor.
The camera lingered on the soft firm flesh, the luxurious curves of the voluptuous nude bodies of the two women for a long, close-up shot. That of the older one was as magnificent, as breathtaking as that of the younger, her high-set rounded breasts firm and full, her voluptuous, white-fleshed thighs sensuously curved, her belly gently swelling and sloping down to the soft triangle of silken strands that covered her pubic mound. The younger of the lovers was a smaller model of the same lovely figure, her ripening young breasts firm, yet not so full, her smooth, deliciously rounded thighs not quite so heavy.
Mike had caught his breath, embarrassed that Sally was sitting there watching the whole sordid show with him. And then he'd stared in shocked amazement as the older woman drew the younger one to her, holding the lithe young body tight against her own throbbing nakedness, pressing her nude figure against that of the girl so that her pointed breasts crushed against her own, their nipples meeting, while the pale, downy pubic fleece of one brushed the long, silky strands of the other's pubic hair. Again the couple was caught in a long close-up, and then the camera followed the hand of the older woman as it crawled tantalizingly down her friend's smooth flesh to the firmly rounded globes of her buttocks, gently easing the cheeks apart, pausing while, with a fingertip, she teased into the tightly puckered little opening of her anus.
Now the hands of the older woman roamed again over the trembling white body of the young girl, to her sensuous silky soft thighs that quivered at her touch. Seizing them firmly but gently, she spread them apart, then slid to her knees, and thrusting her head forward into the open spread of her loins, began to rain kisses on the fleecy patch between the girl's thighs. Carefully, and as gently as before, the older woman spread the slim tapered legs of the younger one even wider. Then she placed her two thumbs on the soft hair-covered lips of the tight little vagina, parting them exposing the long narrow slit within to the view of the small child, still peering, transfixed, through the window.
My God, Mike thought, that's outrageous, showing a child such obscenities. It was bad enough for adults to know about things like that ... but a child! He shuddered, even now, at the recollection.
Suddenly, the woman's head snaked forward again, her tongue darted out, and the audience-and the little girl-could see it lick the small pink bud of the young woman's clitoris, flicking back and forth around the tender little mound, teasing it into a taut erection. The camera cut then to the little girl, still standing with her nose pressed against the window, watching the lewd, perverted sight, and then Mike heard Sally gasp as the child's small hand slid down to the hem of her short little dress, slipped under it, and two of her tiny fingers nipped under the elastic of her laceedged panties, apparently found the hairless little slit of her own tiny pussy, then settled on her miniscule clitoris, rubbing it back and forth, back and forth, matching the rhythm of the two women reaching a climax together. Just as a violent shudder racked the small girl, the image on the screen dissolved.
There were scenes, after, of the little girl, supposedly a few years later, slipping off with a young boy who was shown as her schoolmate, to a tree-shaded park, where the two of them stripped and the half-grown girl examined the boy's penis, even holding it in her hand and massaging it into a stiff little erection. There was a long episode with the girl, now an adolescent, with her first lover. But the part of the picture that stuck in Mike's memory was that in which the girl-he still couldn't get over how much she looked like Kirst had two men at one and the same time, sucking the huge, inflated penis of the first until he shot his milk-white sperm deep into her throat, while, at the same time, she lay beneath a second man who wormed and burrowed and ploughed into the warm, moist hidden recesses of her eagerly welcoming vaginal passage.
The whole film came back to Mike, now, and he seemed to see the girl who looked like Kirst stretched languidly on top of a fur-covered king-size bed. She was dressed in a skimpy little bra barely big enough to cover her tiny, jutting nipples-and a little patch of cloth that turned out to be her panties. With the utmost lack of concern, she casually stripped the doll-sized garments from her, tossing them carelessly on the floor, then lay back, while the high-powered camera played lovingly over the snowy mounds of her breasts, paused a moment to show the dark, blood-red nipples, the brownish-gold aureolas that crowned them. The camera moved downwards then, catching the delicious sweep of the slim yet swelling belly, focusing at last on the luxurious triangle of shimmering gold that hid the fleshy pink folds of the tight, moist pussy. Now the girl, with a sudden, seductive movement, spread her legs slightly, and the camera angled back to show the edges of the tender pink folds before it passed quickly, lightly over the small, perfect pearl of the tiny clitoris within.
As the girl lay there, the door opened, and a handsome blond youth, no older than she, entered the room. As casually as if he were combing his hair, he began to undress, dropping his turtleneck sweater at the foot of the bed on which the girl lay, stripping to his shorts, then easing them down over his lithe, slim hips, while his virile young cock, already rigid and blood-swollen, sprang proudly forth. In no time, the youth was kneeling above the girl's outstretched body, his head bent over the open vee of her crotch. Like a surgeon laying bare the nerves and sinews on which he is to operate, the boy spread open the girl's fleshy, jagged cuntal lips, exposed the moist coral walls of her vagina, probed deep until he came upon the tiny throbbing pearl of her clitoris, then displayed that, like a precious jewel, to the all-seeing eye of the photographer's lens.
And now the camera angle switched still another time, and caught the boy's wildly flicking pointed tongue as it lashed out towards the erect little knob of the girl's clitoris, licked at it lasciviously, then deserted it to sink deep into her throbbing pussy, while from the sound track came a series of moans and whimpers, and finally a long, loud, sustained groan.
Mike groaned, too, with a sudden surge of lust at the lewd sight before him, the obscene depravity he witnessed. He felt Sally's fingernails digging frantically into his arms at that moment and the gesture brought him back to himself with a start. He glanced at his wife, and even in the dim light saw the embarrassed flush spread across her face. It was a lousy thing he'd done, bringing Sally to a place like this, and he knew he ought to get up then, take his wife by the arm and lead her out, apologizing to her profusely. Instead, though, he sat as if glued to his seat, staring at the vile exploits on the screen in front of him.
Even as the boy nibbled lewdly at the tiny tender button of the girl's erectly pulsating clitoris, mouthing it obscenely, the door to the room opened again, and a second youth-looking for all the world like the first-entered. The couple on the bed glanced briefly in his direction, nodding almost imperceptibly to acknowledge his presence, then continued their vile, depraved actions. The second boy seemed completely unconcerned by what they were doing, but instead of leaving, he, too, stripped to his smooth, sun-bronzed skin, revealing, as the first boy had, his hard, young cock, already as stiff and unyielding as a fixed lance.
The camera zoomed in to show the thick, fleshy shaft now, the bulbous, purplish swollen head, with the tiny drops of lubricating fluid beginning already to ooze from the tiny parted hole at the tip. In a minute Mike saw the slim, tapered fingers of the girl dart forth, to curl sensuously around the youth's lust-rigid rod, then begin, slowly and rhythmically, to stroke it. Back and forth, back and forth her hand moved, drawing the heavy foreskin up and down over his now whitely glistening hardness. Suddenly her tiny, cat-like tongue shot out, flicking off the drops of thin white moisture that still clung to the head, and then, a moment .later, she turned her face, and her soft, wet lips opened wide to warmly encircle the hugely stiffened cock.
The director of the film dwelt for a long time on this dual ravishment of the young woman, showing shot after shot of one youth licking maddeningly at the petal-like flesh of her cuntal lips, following the thin, long folds of the narrow crevice, then thrusting deep into the hot moist depths of her now wetly drenched little pussy, while the jerking, iron-hard cock of the second boy ploughed in and out of her widely ovaled mouth. As Mike watched the girl suck on and on, her cheeks tightening around the thick fleshy penis, her tongue swirling hotly around it, his own cock began to throb and ache and jerk, his bloated balls to churn with their load of white hot sperm until he thought he would go out of his mind. He thought of Sally, sitting next to him, and how he'd like to do to her what he saw on the screen, and suddenly a chill damp wind seemed to blow over him. Christ, he knew she'd never give him anything like that. She never had. And now he was dying for it, feeling the furious aching desire mount steadily in his loins, course the length of his nearly erect penis.
Sometime he'd like to fuck Sally the way the two boys in the film were fucking the blonde girl, and Christ but he'd like to have Sally respond the way the girl on the screen was responding.
Now the first boy raised his head, throwing it back like that of a young lion, and his lean, strong body shot forward as he straddled the girl. With one hand he guided his moist, slippery prick to the widespread lips of the little blonde's hot, desire-drenched pussy, slowly parting her silky pubic hair with its pulsing, throbbing tip. Then, with a cry of wild abandon, he arched backwards, suddenly flicking his hips to thrust his fleshy cock deep into her tightly quivering little cunt.
The girl gave a choked, muffled scream as she took his young male hardness deep inside her belly. Then the boy began to fuck mercilessly into the tight little passage, in and out, in and out, ramming in the full length of the moist, hot cavern while she bucked and thrashed beneath him, and while the second youth fucked her in her widely ovaled mouth, his young cock spearing far back into her throat, pulling forward while she clung hungrily to it, sucking at it like a famished child at its mother's breast. The two men quickened their strokes, both grinding in and out, faster and faster and deeper until the smooth, sperm-filled balls of one slapped sharply against the girl's upturned, rounded young buttocks while those of the other smacked rhythmically against her chin. Then, as the two of them, almost together, gave a last brutal thrust, the girl let out another muffled wail, orgiastic climax that sent their hot, thick sperm spewing into the girl's drenched, throbbing pussy, coursing wetly down her throat. Satiated at last, her long slim legs splayed out obscenely over the edges of the narrow bed, as she lay drained of all strength after the exhausting, passionate exhibition she had just given. The youths lay back, too, relaxed and spent beside the girl's slim body, as the cameras pulled back again and the picture faded from the screen.
Mike had cleared his throat, trying to find something to say to Sally. But he could think of nothing and was afraid that if he did, his voice would betray the powerful excitement pulsing through him like an electric current. Instead, he took Sally's arm and propelled her towards the door, pausing only briefly outside before leading her to the car parked near by.
Once home, he'd poured himself a stiff drink, while Sally went upstairs and prepared for bed. He was nearly drunk by the time he followed her; that night he had come closer to losing all control than he had ever had with Sally. He stripped her clothes away brutally, crushed her soft, warm breasts in strong, bruising fingers, and at last plunged his aching, swollen cock far into her quivering belly with no thought whatsoever for her desires, no solicitude.
Then, at the last minute, he'd known he couldn't treat his wife this way, and had pulled out, stamping out of the room, slamming the door after him. He'd spent the night in the guest room, hearing Sally's agonized sobs through the closed door. The next day he apologized: "I guess I was pretty rough last night, Sally. Pretty damned crude. I don't know what got into me. I'm sorry." And she gave him that look which announced, plain as day, that that was only to be expected-wasn't he a man?-and weren't all men animals?
He'd known then it was no use with Sally. They would struggle on all their lives, the way they always had. He sighed, and resigned himself to it.
Now, lying in bed alone, with the young Scandinavian girl in the room down the hall, the memory of that night unrolled before him. He saw the movie again from beginning to end, this time with Kirst-and not just someone who looked like her-in the leading role. And the nearness of the young girl sent leaping flames searing through his loins again. God, he thought, it would be good with her. He knew she'd give it to him, too. He wondered if he would be bastard enough to take it.