Chapter 3
"All the same," Janet Foy said warmly, "it is more than just another affair. For you as well as for me."
She was sitting cross-legged on the big bed, watching the powerfully built redhead sipping a gin and tonic she had brought him. He was lying back in Bob's favorite chair, his cock big and heavy. Janet's position had popped her thick cunt lips open and her rosy clutch of wet labia were touching the bedspread. Watching the man's cock made her shiver with anticipation and lust. Her fingers ached to get around that thick stem.
The touch of her sensitive pussy against the fabric beneath her was teasing and warm. She was almost mesmerized by the quiet warmth in the room and the presence of the man and his big cock. And a wonder which always struck her as one of these affairs blossomed.
Why did she do it? Why did she suddenly yield to the need to be fucked by a stranger? And why did she love him so much, for so short a while? She listened, because the big man whose nickname was Sonny was answering her.
"No man with a hard-on could ever think of you as just another affair, Janet Foy," he said slowly. "You're a good person. Any fool could see that you're much more than a marvelous piece of ass. Does that jar you? Well, every woman should want to be a marvelous piece of ass!"
"Oh, I do! I do!" Janet whispered. Her face was peaceful, her eyes closed. "If you had one of your fingers in my cunt, you could feel it twitch," she said very low. "I don't want to be a princess in a fairy story. I want you to fuck me and like my cunt and the way I fuck. But there's something else! There has to be!"
She held out her arms beseechingly and the man laid his empty glass down and walked over to the bed.
"Here," he said. "Take hold of my cock! Look at it! Suck it a while! That's what you need, isn't it? Isn't that what you wanted when you called me to come up and fix your television set?" He reached out and pulled her head roughly toward his cock. She looked up at him. Not the least bit frightened. Her look seemed to welcome him.
"Oh, yesss!" she groaned. "That's what I want! Your cock!" And she held it close to her face, inhaling the raw scent of semen curdled under his pink foreskin. She could smell the racy ripeness of her own cunt as well.
The man laughed, not unkindly. "And you came in my place and sized me up," he went on. "And you pulled a wire loose on the nearest component so you could call me. Didn't you?"
Janet rubbed the swelling prick against her cheek. Her mouth hung open and the dark, slick head coved like satin across the wetness inside her lip. She was smiling dreamily.
What was the man talking about ? What did she care? What if she did want it to be more than just a hit-and-run fuck?
Sonny Benson knew what he was doing. And he didn't feel too great about it. She was a sweet person. He had told the truth. But he had to get her off this love and romance kick.
His senses were all hyperactive. The feel of her face and lips on his cock. The magnificent aroma of clean, hot woman and clean, hot cunt. The sight of her with her lovely pear shaped titties and their dark nipples. Her body was lovely to look at, to smell, to feel. Even to taste. God, how good her pussy tasted!
With a gruffness that was hard to maintain, he gave her a shove. "Get over on the bed and get on your back, baby," he said. "I think you're great but I don't love you. You want to get fucked and I want to fuck you!" He knelt between her legs, looking down at their perfection. Her black bush of cunt hair was slowly moving. It was the pre-coital swelling of her inner lips, pushing the thick flaps aside, hair and all.
Janet seethed inside. There was a rising tide of blood-heat in her cunt. Far up inside her belly, too. Around her anchored womb, in the sloshy dark where nerve ends tingle and cunt juice drips, her loins ached with tension. When would he stick that enormous thing in her tender little pussy?
And suddenly, like a flash of sheet lightning across a dark summer sky, she remembered another time. A long time ago. And someone whose love she wanted but dared not ask for.
It was on a day much like this. A warm summer day when she was thirteen. Almost fourteen, really. And thrilled to be a "teenager." Not a little kid any more. Almost a woman.
She was crossing a field and she saw some boys go into a barn. She was almost certain that one of them was her brother.
"Adam!" she cried as loud as she could. "Wait for me!"
But he had not heard her. Maybe it wasn't her beloved brother after all. Anyhow, he hated girls. Or claimed he did. At fifteen, he thought girls were of no use. And she loved him so much that she thought he must be right. About girls, that is. So she trotted across the field.
"If it is Adam, I'll surprise him," she said.
She surprised him, all right. Surprised him and two of his friends, all the same age. They were jerking off. She had heard of it and knew pretty much how it happened. She even knew that the boys had juice in their balls and that it shot out of their cocks. And made babies if you weren't careful.
Her own body was a great deal like the boys'. In her hazy recollection, lying on her back ready and willing and longing to take Sonny Benson's big cock into her vitals, she wondered how any boy could have thought of her in sexual terms. She had little soft knobs for tits. About like golf balls for size. And nearly all of them was nipple. But oh, how they itched and tingled and ached! She had taken to hugging Adam and her father just so she could mash those baby tits against some hard, male body.
And all she had for decoration on her juvenile cunt was a tiny little horsehoe of very short hair. Barely visible.
She was moving her cunt now, her big, hairy, hotly mature cunt. Through her window to the past, she still saw and wanted the redhead kneeling above her. But dreams persist. The heat she felt inside her now was a lot different from the scary feeling she'd had so many years ago.
She was so hot now! Why didn't Sonny Benson put that giant hunk of meat inside her? She whimpered. Precisely as she had whimpered on that day in the old barn. Whimpered in fear. But also in love and satisfaction which she dared not show. For the boys were truly angry at her. Even Adam.
"Lousy little cunt," one of the boys said. He was a redhead, too, just like this huge stranger towering between her legs.
"Hell, she's just a kid," Adam had said. "She won't tell anyone. Will you, sis?" His young cock was still hard. It was so beautiful that her girlish little pussy burned with excitement.
"Of course I'll tell!" she cried highly excited. What would they do to her if she threatened to tell? Certainly they wouldn't let her off scot-free which Adam wanted, and which she didn't want.
The biggest of the three boys, a hulking kid she knew from school but didn't know his name, grabbed her.
"We ought to turn her little ass up and paddle it good!" he cried. "Then she'll know what she'll get if she ever tattles! Twice as much of a licking!"
They all three had grabbed her. Even Adam. And they had turned her wiry, skinny little body over and ripped off her silly little cotton panties. She could feel it now. Both the sense of outrage and the sense of triumph. Especially when the red-haired kid had gasped: "God, look at that cunt! She's got hair on it!"
In the dream she was having, so close to being fucked by the big repair man, Janet still found a tender closeness to that skinny little girl of so many years ago. Now thirty-five, her cunt was voluptuously-haired. She knew how it looked. All that darkly curled hair creating a screen over her hungering cunt lips. Her hungering cunt. Waiting for Sonny Benson to open those soft lips and lay his big cock in that slurpy channel.
And that's what she waited for in the old barn, twenty-two years in the past. Scared but happy. Not daring to show how eager she was to learn, to become a ripe woman.
She heard Adam, in that far-off dream. He was protesting. "Hey, God damn it! She's my sister!" But he didn't sound as angry as he meant to.
And suddenly, just to see what would happen, that thirteen-year-old Janet made as if to escape. And that, to her deep inner satisfaction, sealed it. And unsealed her forever.
"Grab her!" one of the boysh shouted, his hard arm going around her narrow hips. "Catch her feet! She's kicking me!"
If Adam cared, she couldn't tell it. She was almost certain that three pairs of arms and hands held her. Held her and wrestled her to the soft cushion of sweetly scented hay, her skirt above her waist and her cute little ass bare. When she looked up, the heavy-shouldered dark boy was undoing his pants. His cock was out the same as before. But he was getting naked! Just like the big redhead who so temptingly displayed his huge prick just above Janet's splayed legs and open pussy now.
He leaned down and kissed her writhing cunt lips, her itching and excited clit. Her body bucked and thrashed as the sweet fire of orgasm started in her guts.
In that mental picture of bright lust in the dead years, she had felt the same startled pang of beauty. Just the same! A boy's mouth trying to swallow her young and almost hairless cunt. But which boy?
They had thrown a jacket over her face. Did Adam do that? So he wouldn't have to look at her? Or so she wouldn't have to look at him? Dear Adam! How she hoped it would be him!
One of the young voices, cracked with excitement, said shrilly, "I'm gonna eat her pussy!" One boyish voice swore, the other giggled. Any of the three could have been Adam. And there she was, bracing herself, with her coltish young legs almost pulled out of their sockets. It hurt but she loved it. And then there was that mashing, gorgeously slick pressure in the tender orifice between her legs. Where her finger toyed when she wanted to cum, but not too quickly. In the coral pink lips, around the pearly pink clit. In the slobbery-slick lining of those outer lips which would one day be so thickly-haired.
"Let me go!" she had cried, twisting her body. Not so she could get away. Oh, my, no, no! No, sirreee! But so that she could wiggle her hot little twat, aching for life and love, against a hot and boyish mouth.
Oh, God, Sonny, she thought hotly. Sucking's wonderful! But stick it in me, man! Fuck me! Grind your tool in my cunt! Lift me off the bed with it! Fuck me! Make me cum and cum and cum! Shoot that big load of superhot jism into me! Spray my cunt with your cum!
She was cumming right now and she knew it. Even in the brightness of a long-lost dream, she felt her mature body respond to the tongue-fucking she was undergoing. She was laying out her juice. It was dripping and tickling. And her lover was eating it. Just as she had eaten his cum not too long before.
But what she heard was not moans of lust as Sonny Benson probed her twat. It was the shrill scream of a young girl, held down and fucked. Painfully. Beautifully. Bloodily. She had still had more than just a tag of maidenhead left, even if she had finger fucked herself a thousand times ... even if she had pushed a small Italian squash into that warm, red mass of sucking lips. To get the stuffed and lovely feeling of a cunt used as it should be.
"You can't shoot jism, you silly old squash," she had said. And then: "Ooooh!" because the hard vegetable had hurt her more than a little. "You nasty old boy squash! You've made me bleed!"
But she must have had something left to break, because she had bled plenty.
She knew the dark boy's name by now. She heard someone call him "Max," and remembered all of it. Max Fenner. He was old. Almost sixteen. Maybe older. In the eleventh grade. And it must have been his cock that had stretched her so, taking what was left of her virginity.
For she heard him say, after he had drawn his hard cock out of her, "Jesus, look at her bleed!"
That's when she had cried, "Oh, you dirty boys! You broke my maidenhead!"
She looked at Sonny Benson in a haze of lust. And love.
Why didn't he want her to say she loved him?
Or that there was something special about their relationship ? Why was he lying above her and not putting that enormous cock where it belonged?
Through the marching years she felt again the hard and painful thrust of another cock. They were getting more and more excited.
"Here. Let me fuck her!" And another hard young tool cracked into her tight little pussy. "Boy, even with all that cum juice in her, she's still tight!" That might have been Adam. How she had hoped for it!
But the sharp pain of having her practically virgin hole battered was leaving. Now it was beginning to feel as good as she had expected. Now she heard one of the boys-was it the fifth time? Or the sixth? They just kept on fucking her, over and over-cry out: "I think she's cumming! Hey, does a girl cum?"
How her young cunt ached each time one of the hard peters drew out! like the aching void where a pulled tooth had been. And how it leaped in pleasure as another prick came out of nowhere to push into her girlish belly! Still in the dark under that enfolding jacket, she could not see.
Did not want to see, really. If Adam were raping her, she'd have to tell. If he had not fucked her, she'd hate him.
Now, all these years later, her cunt ached with a need she could not have expressed. And now, in the pink haze above her, she saw that she was about to get it. To get what she wanted. To get that big cock with the glistening drop of clear fluid moistening the bulbous peter-purple head.
In fascination, she watched it move slowly down to the aperture of her vagina. Almost touching the slick folds of pussy which tingled in expectation.
She remembered that she had been crying when the boys left off their abuse of her body. Fingers had been poked into her tiny little cunt as well as cocks. And at least three times she had been thoroughly sucked. She could never be able to tell anyone how much she had appreciated that show of love. Maybe they didn't love her. But they surely to God had loved her little girl's twat. So why did she cry?
From hard, fierce joy, sort of. Female joy. The joy of being a girl with a cunt mature enough to give a guy a hard-on. The joy of getting it over with. Of losing it. Of getting fucked good and proper. And sucked, too. Don't forget that! She only knew one girl in her class who even claimed to have been sucked. And that had been by her uncle.
Oh, God! The trickle of her cum running out of her gash, into the bushy hair around her ass-hole! Come on, Sonny! Come on, big man with the glistening cock! Fuck it into me! Deep and hard! Make me cum! Aaaaagggghhhh! AAaaaa-ggghhh! That's it!
The big cock entered her. "Oh, crazy!" she gasped. "Hit me with it, Adam! Make me dig it, Adam! Fuck harder, baby, fuck harder!"
The dew of perspiration was drenching her all over. The big redhead's loins slipped and slithered on her belly, between her firm thighs. He was calm and he was giving her a solid fucking. Just what she needed.
She felt a new flood of feeling burning in her tight vagina. It was wet heat, juicy warmth. It wasn't Sonny cumming. Not yet. It was the outpouring of femaleness. It was the gift of her stretching, straining cunt. It was wrapped by the clutching folds of membrane in her pussy. Gift wrapped.
Oh, take my gift, lover! She screamed it silently, in the hot depths of her aphrodisiac mind. Let me fuck my pussy all around your marvelous bludgeon of a cock! Let me suck your hard-rock peter with my weeping, clasping cunny! GIVE ME YOUR J ISM!
She was love and cunt and fuck-fuck baby!
"Cum for papa Red!" the happy voice whispered in her ear. He had his hand between her ass cheeks, slipping in the warm goo which gushed from her spasming twat. He was pressing his blunt fingers against her ass-hole, making her hotter and tighter and fiercer than ever.
Oh, Jesus! Adam, my darling, did you stick a finger in my ass?
Her eyes were open staring mindlessly at the ceiling as she pumped out her orgasm. "OHHHH! OHHHHH! Fuck me, Adam! Fuck your big old stiff pole into my baby-girl cunt! Oh, Adam, don't ever leave me! FUCK! FUCK!"
She could only gasp and weave her body gently as the last of the biggest orgasm of all flooded out of her pleased and aching body. Out of her seared and oil-burned twat. Deep in the dripping pink essence of her inner being, in that hidden little room where tiny dreams could rush and tickle. Oh, God, how sweet to have a cunt! And to have it royally fucked!
She sucked on the red-haired man's tongue strongly and slowly. The peace of momentary drainage gave the man's cock a bath of love juice in a non-frictive glove. He grinned above her, knowing she could not see his face.
His cock felt exactly right. This was a beautiful woman. His wife was beautiful, in a way so different that they were like members of two different species. He remembered something from a college course. Something about life being the woman one had, while art was the woman one wanted. He grinned again.
"Janet," he whispered, pleased to say her name. "You're art, did you know that? But you're life, too."
She pulled him against her, suddenly working her body in a seeming rage of fuck fever. "Ooohh, that feels so good! Your cock is so nice and big!" She kissed him with a softly demanding heat, her slack tongue hardening a bit. "Let me give you a little treat, okay? Take it out, really slow."
He obeyed her, curious to see what she would do. Suck him ? With that gorgeous mouth, looking like a bruised flower made of meat, it might be the best thing she could do.
"Draw back a little," she whispered, giggling. "Oh, man, no wonder I felt like I was splitting! Look how big it is at the base! You were driving that thing clear up to my liver!" She grinned at him in earthy fellowship, plain lust in her expression. "Just a sec!"
She twisted like an eel and took the big prick into her mouth briefly. "Just to get some of the cunt juice off him," she said. "Now, stick a finger into me. Go on, shove it in. There, now. Hold it. Feel me, baby?"
The big man swore. "God damn, girl, that's a talent!" he ejaculated. "You could snap a broomstick with that grip!"
In her dark and faultless beauty, naked as a jaybird's ass, she contrived somehow to look like a schoolgirl.
"Any girl can learn to do that," she said primly. "I just wanted you to know I'm not fucked out. Right?"
She was working at his cock, pushing the skin back, her dainty fist going clear back to the hair on his gut. "See," she said, "when I do this" pushing all the way back "you're like circumcised. No cover on your tender spots. like this." She sucked him again, and he could feel her work her strong tongue on the underside of the head.
"Wow! A man couldn't take too much of that," he said in open admiration. "You sure know where the feel-good places are, baby. You gonna suck me off that way?"
She looked at him archly. "You shove it down and start it into me," she said in a husky whisper. "Look, I'll hold back the skin. See? You're fucking into me without a thing to protect your tender places from my mean old cunt."
She had a dreamy look on her lovely face. "Oh, God, that's so wonderful," she breathed. "Pull out. Easy. Let me keep holding the skin back. Now, shove it in again. Now you get the surprise. Are you ready?"
He was bracing himself on his arms so he could look down at her wildly lovely face, so young in its dreams of lust. He could see her fist on his cock and he could feel the strain as she shoved his foreskin back. But now he got the message.
Those muscles inside her were eating his cock! Better than her amazing mouth! Better than anything he had ever imagined! The soft and slippery clutch was rising and falling on his tenderest spots, just as she had said. And he was about to cum!
She had been ready to orgasm again almost as soon as she had asked him to take it out. The friction and the pain of emptiness brought her to a high pitch. And the taste and texture of that marvelous bar of hot meat in her mouth had not dampened her sweet spirit of cum. So now she felt herself slipping over the sharp and zesty edge of a soul smashing cum that would blow her mind. Blow out her twat, too. Something of a sexual tornado to rip through her guts, twist her womb and her vagina. Oh, God! The slickness of that heat! The gyrating beauty of the tearing pleasure as his big cock hammered into her!
He felt his balls begin to explode, touched off by the intensity of cum feeling in the head of his cock. There was the heat of sperm boiling up through his tubes, the feverish itch as it spurted out into that lovely writhing cunt. He had driven her soft hand off his cock and was trying literally to split her. But with love. He closed his eyes to see his cock as she saw it, with its broad and hairy base. And in his mind he saw her cunt as she could never see it. A division between two small and juicy walls of pinkly dripping meat, framed in curly cunt hair. Oozing her sweet cum. Folding his big tool into its slippery embrace. And just because she was a woman she could never see it as he saw it, as the ultimate reward of being male.
His deep-chested shouts shook her with renewed flame, towering in her belly. She was burning with the dying fires of an echoing cum. The numbness creeping into her twat had more true feeling, right now, than the height of sensation a moment ago. Because it was the numbness of retained love.
Still clasping her tightly, the big man rolled off on his ride. Her strong legs were still wrapped around his. Her smoothly sweated belly was so close to his that it seemed to have a suction of its own. He was happy to the point of being wordless. How could he say they should not be hooked on each other? When this act of fucking was so basic, so complete?
She was so sated that her belly felt as if her guts had been replaced with hot water. Her cunt, so tender in every least area, had let go the tension of every muscle in its overpowering cum. His vast load and her bouteous flow of clear cunt ooze made her vagina warm and sloppy and altogether delightful to them both.
"I'm so relaxed, lover," she whispered, "that I'm not even tight enough to squeeze you out of me! Not that I want to!" She burrowed against him like a soft little pet animal, breathing deeply. She was almost purring. Her tits felt enormous, stretched and strained with blood and passion. Their nipples were large and hard, looking more purple than brown. As they touched the close-curled auburn hair on his chest, a twinge of fire ran through them.
"My cunt feels sore," she breathed, rubbing her hand up and down his back. "Oh, God, how hot I was! Out of my mind! I'm drained, physically. But you know what. Mentally I'm dying to fuck again, to suck, to be fucked and sucked. Is that bad?"
He kissed deeply into those swollen, dark lips, lazily running his long tongue into her mouth. It was sweet with the flavors of fuck-heat. In the shadows, where their bodies were joined in the world-old joy of cunt-and-cock, he felt the sad but joyful slip as her muscles released his cock. And as his tender bolt lost its size. In the lovely slop of her cum-plastered cunt, the gently shrinking head lingered for a brilliant moment that sent pleasure-lightning clear back to his balls, and fell out.
She was not the sort of woman who wanted to cling forever after a fuck. "Get me a towel, Sonny," she asked him. "I know you have to go. I want this cum of yours to absorb into my cunt. I like to feel that my womb drinks it up. But I don't want any of it to mark up the bed."
She watched him dress. Before he slipped into his shorts she beckoned him over. His balls were the same size as ever. But they hung down in their wrinkled sac. How soon, she wondered, would they recuperate? Suppose his wife felt frolicsome tonight? Could he get it up for her? She wondered about his wife, her body. Her cunt.
She was handling his balls very softly, loving them and the feel of them in her hand.
"Next time, I want to suck your balls a long time," she whispered, looking up at him. "Will you like that, Sonny?"
He was buttoning his shirt, moving his body back and forth as she caressed his testicles. "I'll like it," he said. "But I wonder about something? May I ask a question?"
For some vague reason she was alarmed. "I'm not saying we're hooked on one another," she protested. "Just because I talked about a next time. There doesn't even have to be a next time if you don't want it."
He sat down by her and put his hand on her thigh, his fingers touching the cum-slicked hairs on the fat lips of her pussy. "You got me wrong," he said. "I told you that you were ever so much more than a marvelous piece of ass. But as we're situated we have to stick to sex. And since we're both married and plan to stay that way, we can ruin the joys of fucking and sucking if we get sentimental. Maybe I'm too scared about it, but it's so wonderful just to touch you that I don't dare risk losing it. Understand?"
She kissed his hand as it lay braced near her face. "Oh, I could just suck you all over!" she said. "Yes, Sonny, I know what you mean. Thanks. Thanks a whole lot. But you said you had a question."
He looked at her seriously.
"Who's Adam?" he asked. "I know it's not your husband. I belong to three or four clubs. I read the local papers. I've been called in to half the houses in the area and I don't know any Adam." He grinned. "It's none of my business, I know. It's just curiosity."
She grinned at him like a thirteen year old girl. "He was my first love."
After Sonny Benson left she lay still for a long time. Her body was tingling with good health and sexual fulfillment. She inserted two fingers tenderly into her pussy. It was still slick, just as it always was. She pulled the fingers out and sniffed them first, then licked them clean.
"Big man's jism just about all soaked up, baby," she whispered to her beloved pussy. She gave it a hard and loving pressure, overcome with affection for the wonderful gift between her thighs. She thought of how barren life must be for women who did not fiercely love sex. It made her shiver. And it was inevitable that she also thought of Adam. Especially in terms of her answer to Sonny's question.
"He was my first love," she had said.
Now she looked back briefly into that summer afternoon in the old barn. She hugged her breasts, remembering the sensitivity of those little baby its of hers as the boys had mauled and pinched and pulled them. And sucked them. One of them just had to be Adam!
She thought of him as he had been then, fifteen ears old, so handsome and strong.
"He was my first love," she whispered aloud. And then, with the sting of tears in her eyes, she added: "And maybe my last!"