Chapter 10

Because he had exerted himself so much, Lola gave Timmie a bath in the big tub, which he allowed her to do in dreamy, good humored acquiescence. Undoubtedly, one of his unknown, unacknowledged pains had been loss of his mother. And this was Aunt Lola. Almost the same. Plus the strong, long drink of blackberry brandy she had given him lacing it with a couple of tablespoons of ice cream, telling him it was tonic, it would relax him.

He sat with a smile on his handsome young face as Lola washed his face, turning at her command so that she could get at his ears. And standing up so that she could wash between his legs, wash his ass and balls, even his cock, Which seemed so small and soft and harmless.

"Gee, Aunt Lola, that sure was good tonic," he said sleepily. "I never knew medicine could taste so good."

"Sex is medicine, too, you know," Aunt Lola said, wiping gently around his balls with a big washcloth. "You like that, too, don't you?"

He got out of the big tub and stood as she helped him towel off.

"It's even better tasting than the tonic," he said, and laughed like a pleased child as she patted him on his prick.

He willingly let her tuck him in the big bed, and he was asleep in less than three minutes. He looked more like three than thirteen when Lola came in to look at him, and she took her telephone and its long cord and carried it through the hall, out to the kitchen. In line with her fiercely maternal desire to make sure he rested, she also went to her big door chime on the wall and flicked a switch. Now, if anyone pushed the bell button at her entry, a light would flash on the wall by the chime, another in her bedroom.

Life was strange, she thought, sitting down with a large cup of coffee, smiling softly. Mike was gone, even much of her memory of him was now vague. Uncle Tommy was more alive. At least her image of him was. And yet Mike had been the love of her life. She remembered a line of poetry, part of a poem Uncle Tommy often quoted. "Man has but one virginity to lose, and where he lost it, there his heart will be." Maybe it was so. What it really meant, Uncle Tommy had said, referred to man's work, but to woman's love. "You'll remember me, baby, because I popped your little cherry. I'm a dirty old man. But you'll remember me."

Hard as she had been fucked, she felt a stir of life, a warm slippage of twat muscle. Partly in memory of her uncle, certainly a part of it for Mike and easy going love, his cock always so ready. And Young Tim, napping peacefully in her bedroom. It could hardly be classed as a memory, such a recent fucking.

Mike had had a little riddle: "What's the lightest thing in the world?" And the answer was: "Your dick, because a thought can lift it." Men were so silly in their pride. Many of them thought, because they had a cock to lift with a thought, or by feeling under a girl's skirt or in her bra, that they had some kind of an exclusive.

Boloney! A woman, at least a hot blooded woman like Lola, could start their cream to flowing with a thought. And not necessarily a thought about a man.

She couldn't have Timmie in her house and not think even one little thought about his mother.

Lola sighed and looked out her kitchen window. She had lived here a long time, and a lot of it was tied in with Ellen Shelton. Unconsciously she pursed her lips and ran her tongue around both the inside and the outside of her gums.

They had, all of them, moved so swiftly, so inncently, into swinging. The Ranees and the Clays, the Bonds and the Olsons and, of course, Larry and Ellen Shelton. They had a party, they drank a lot, and someone began kidding about the new game called "swapping." And, since they were all young, all getting beyond the first novelty of married sex, and all of them, of course, just dying to try something new, it had happened. And the biggest thing of all was that one of the men insisted that the girls "put on a circus."

Some of the girls faked it, got in a sixty-nine position, held their partner's cunt lips between finger and thumb, and made smacking noises. But when it had been Lola's turn and Ellen's, the big blonde got the shock-and the pleasure-of her life. Because the tiny brunette with the cuddly body and the gorgeously long, full tits, her arms around Lola's legs-Lola on the bottom-obviously wasn't kidding. And Lola, with the dark haired, fat lipped, redly wet cunt open just above her mouth found it impossible to resist. And both of them had loved it!

After that, Ellen never missed a chance to stand by Lola, to hug her, to feel her breasts, to stroke her round, softly muscular bottom. Or to eat her cunt.

Until that scandal.

Well, the Ranees moved to Los Angeles, the Clays split up, and the Sheltons got religion. Lola shivered, her warm pussy turning a bit cold. What could religion offer a hot woman? Of course, she had no way of knowing what Larry and Ellen did. She saw them no more except by accident.

Ellen's cunt! It had been the sweetest thing in Lola's life for a long time. They were like sisters. The swinging parties they held were so immature. All those cocks, all those pussies, all that fucking and sucking. Wonderful fun, of course, but nothing more than a projection of children's defiance toward authority. "See, mama. See, papa? We can do all those things you said we mustn't do. Fuck and suck and play with our little dongs and snatches."

But with her and Ellen, it had been sweeter and deeper.

She heard a noise from the bedroom and got up to look in on Tim. He was lying on his back, his face flushed from the heat of the afternoon. And it was easy to see what was keeping him from sleeping soundly. His young cock was sticking straight up, its red head swollen to a satin-smooth fullness by his dream. As Lola stood there, the boy said: "Mama! Mama! Why don't you-" and then he rolled and turned and came partly awake, his dark eyes wide with some deep emotion.

And Lola, her cunt convulsing inside her, laid a cool hand on his forehead and said: "It's all right, baby. Go to sleep." And for some strange reason, he did. It was one of the hardest decisions Lola had ever made, going away and leaving that stiff young peter. But he was only a boy. And all men have limitations. "And I've always got my good old fake prick," she murmured, knowing in her heart that there wasn't all that much to recommend it.

It was not until an hour later than Timmie came out to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, smiling. His cock was back to normal. It had been only a piss hard-on. And Lola and Timmie, after a long, gentle, searching kiss, and a good, long feel, which set their pulses to throbbing, were having milk and cookies when they heard a "Pssst!" at the back door.

Lola reconnoitered, motioning Tim to be still. But it was only Alice, and the little blonde came in furtively, latching the screen behind her.

She buried her face in the warm, maternal fullness of Lola's breasts, and said: "I'm sorry, Aunt Lola! Did the cops come here? Some neighbor told the man that Timmie and I were always together, and that she had seen us this morning. So all I said was, I thought I had seen Tim walking down the street in front of your place. Did they grill you?"

She had moved away from Lola, standing by Tim, and the older woman was tickled at the protective arm the boy threw around the child's slender but intensely female body.

"No problem," Lola said. "Timmie was sleeping with a hard-on, but I don't think he really needed any immediate attention."

She had a quick rush of warmth as she uttered this peculiarly challenging statement, and she knew why. She wanted more than just the boy. And more than the girl. She wanted to be a part of it, a partner in whatever happened. It was the resurgence of an old idea, a time when her beloved uncle had told her: "Never be afraid to. be what you are. Never be ashamed of being a human being. The world's a cafeteria-take what you like and leave what you don't."

That hot, smelly old room! Where she had kept her promise to Uncle Tommy. Bringing him the two girls from school.

"This guy doesn't live here, you know," she had lied. To protect whom? Her uncle? Her folks? Herself? Who could be certain. But she knew that there might be trouble in girls eleven years old, coming to see and handle, for the first time, a man's hard cock.

They had not been nearly so brave and bold as they had been in the girls' room at school. In fact, if there had not been the two of them, it wouldn't have happened. Neither dared chicken out before the other. But Lola had had to push them in. And Uncle Tommy had been just right, helping them in, with his cock half hard, laughing, saying: "Come on, come on! A couple of girls like you-you can't be scared of a little old prick, can you?"

It had been so thrilling to her, Lola. To help the kids get out of their clothes, to shove them at Uncle Tommy, to say: "Go ahead, you dummies! Grab his cock! Like this." And she had grabbed it, put it in her mouth, sucked it with roguish side glances at the blushing kids. Until at last, Nola Prentice, boldly took it away from Lola, looked around defiantly, and went down on the tall man. While Lola, delighted and hot, squeezed Mary Lou Smith, the other kid, and said: "You never lived until you taste that jism!"

And how Uncle Tommy had thrived in that harem atmosphere! It seemed as if he might kill himself, fucking. Every Wednesday, for a long time, Mary Lou and Nola tagged along home with Lola. And he would open their girlishly mature little cunts, and, in one or another variation, work his cock into them. Or they would work their juicy, tight little cunts around him.

Blonde hair, dark hair, red hair, and sweetly dripping juice from one cunt tasted just like the clear, sweet, rich, thick nectar from any other.

Half in a dream, the grown up Lola licked her lips, a secret smile on her face. It had been so great when Mary Lou, the redhead, sat on Unk's dick with her back to him, looking at them all in the mirror, her eyes screwed tight together with the lovely feet of that big cock stuck so deep in her young vagina. And it was even better when Mary Lou lay back on Uncle Tommy's chest, with her youthful beautifully stacked thighs open so wide that her cunt was like a big, raw wound, all wet and shiny from the excess of her cumming. Because old Mary Lou was the hottest of them all. Her inner labia seemed so big, so thick and mature. And their surfaces were marked by traceries of small veins pulsing and dark red with engorged blood.

It had seemed so natural and sweet, so right, that Lola never hesitated. She knelt by the pair so furiously locked in their fuck, with the hairy base of Uncle Tommy's cock seeming to grow out of Mary Lou's grasping fuck hole, and sucked ail up and down all of that lovely split that she could reach.

Any girl worthy of her sex knows the taste of her delightful little cunt almost from birth. And Lola knew not only her own, but that of Mary Lou and Nola as well. But today, it seemed better, creamier, thicker, and far more pungent. And certainly more sensitive.

"Oh, baby," the young redhead groaned. "What's happening?"

She put her hands down toward her crotch, and felt Lola's head, felt it move as the blonde girl moved up and down in the warmth and hotly beautiful slickness of the parted lips.

She reached one hand up and squeezed Mary Lou's full, firm tit, mashing it hard against the other girl's rib cage. Mary Lou exploded.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!" She screamed, her legs rising, knocking Lola's head away from her writhing pussy. Her lovely legs, so big and well shaped for an eleven-year-old, flew straight up. "AAAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!" She was uttering the choking, piercing, wordless screams as if some terrible force were squeezing them out of her, until Uncle Tommy, his strong arms around her, shoved her off him.

"Shut up!" he cried. "You little idiot! Do you want to bring the whole neighborhood in?"

He pulled on his jeans, then a T-shirt, and went to the door.

"Get her out of here," he snarled. "And don't bring her back. Hear?" And he ran out, leaving the slender, naked Lola, to hold and comfort the well stacked, naked Mary Lou.

Ah, recollection! The grown up Lola's mouth was still salivating. That was the day when she really knew, in her heart, in her taste buds, that a cunt, a hairy, soft, openly dripping, red-lipped cunt, was as sweet, as hot, in its own way, as Uncle Tommy's cock.

The girl's body was so smooth, so soft. And only she and Mary Lou were there that day. What a time to have a friend! Mary Lou, her young fuck nerves all afire, all yearning from having that big, hard cock so rudely snatched from her pussy, clung to Lola, kissing her, crying, moaning: "Oh, I need a fuck so bad! Oh, why did I do such a dummy thing! Please, please, Lola! What can I do?"

And the younger, smaller girl, so much more experienced, and with her own desires raised to their highest heat, simply rolled the amply built redhead onto the bed and said coarsely: "Open up your cunt. Wrap your legs around my head. And when I begin to suck you, you'd better suck me, too!"

It was a delight she never forgot. The pulsing movements of that young, sweetly oozing pussy, the clip of muscle as she shot her tongue deep into Mary Lou's cuntal aperture, they were unforgettable. And that rush of juice as her sucking and tongue lashing made the redhead cum again and again.

She could feel Mary Lou's mouth working on her own split, too. She was on top, so she had to work out a way to get her pussy wide open and on Mary Lou's mouth without choking off her breath. So she had her knees right at the other girl's shoulders, raising and lowering her bottom, feeling the sweet, soft lips, the slick, hard tongue as they dug and licked and caressed and sucked with such wonderful understanding.

"You're so dear," Mary Lou had sobbed, holding Lola's little face, shining with pussy juice, and kissing her hungrily. "I don't care anything, ever again, about that mean old man!" She kissed Lola again. "Oh, baby, isn't it wonderful to French kiss another girl?" she asked rapturously. "Gee, kid, I hope your pussy tastes as good to you as mine does to me!"

But all things end. The most wonderful things end. You remember them, so they live. They help you, too. Lola, after that, had never been reluctant to have oral sex with another girl. Any more than she would with a boy. It seemed so natural, so wholesome. And girls sometimes needed another girl. For her sympathy, her understanding. And especially for her knowledge of just how to find another girl's most tender places. On this day, over three decades later, Lola Todd could still taste the sweetness of Mary Lou's delicious split. And another, nearer, gamier, juicier. And with the ripeness of flavor that most young girls don't have. Except that last night, that kid with the big tits had tasted mighty sweet.

She jerked herself awake. Timmie and Alice were looking at her. Smiling, happy, unafraid, and it made her glad, deep inside, that she was here, that she had the understanding, that she could offer these kids a chance to be themselves, without fear or guilt. She had never had it. Not really.

But uppermost in her mind, for this moment, was of that unforgettable moment-or series of moments-with Uncle Tommy. And Mary Lou.

"You weren't exactly asleep, I know," Timmie said, coming around to put his hand down between her big breasts, on down to her smooth belly and its wild cluster of curly blonde hair.

"I just hope I'll be like you when I grow up, Aunt Lola," little Alice said. She was glowing from the run of Timmie's warm hand as he had reached up between her thighs to finger her sweet, juicy, pink lipped little twat.

She had unbuttoned the boy-style shirt she wore, so that Timmie could see and feel the beautifully formed young breasts which adorned her slight but lovely frame. She held Lola's face against her bare little boobs, and the older woman, delighted that these two kids could be so aggressive in their love play, gently sucked on Alice's hard, blood-swollen, deeply creased young nipples. And mashed her face against the soft warmth of the child's breasts.

"You were sort of like dreaming," the boy said, cupping the warm weight of one of Lola's big, smooth titties, hefting it, raising it, squeezing it until nerves across her belly carried liquid lightning down to her still throbbing twat. "Sort of like I was, I guess, when I was dreaming a while ago." And he laughed deeply. "Man, I sure had some kind of a hard-on!"

Lola, remembering the closeness of these children, marveled at their openness. "If Alice had been here, she would have sucked it, wouldn't you, dear?" Lola asked, stroking the blonde child's bottom. The little blonde gasped, then blushed, but nodded.

"I would've, oh, yes, Aunt Lola! Of course! But I'd rather-you know what Timmie did with Sheri?" Her head was low, her face blazed scarlet, but she went on. "Stuck his cock in her, you know."

"Fucked her," Lola said. "Yes, he did. We were all pretty wild, I guess. Did you ever see my intimate attendant, Alice? My pink plastic fucker? The one with a cock on each end, four batteries, two heating elements, two vibrators?" She laughed huskily. "If I'd been thinking right-if I had been better organized, instead of flying out of my nut with love and sex, we could have had a lot of fun with that old thing."

Timmie laughed, fingering boldly between the fat, sweet, hair thatched fullness of Lola's sex. "You girls could have," he said. "But you could never replace the real thing." He waved "the real thing" in Lola's face, and she closed her soft hand on it, smiling up at him.

"Don't be too sure," she laughed. "Sometimes, it's fun to watch!"

She suddenly felt the rising power of the wave of heat in her strong body, and pushed the kids aside with gentle hands, so she could get up. "Come in the bedroom," she whispered, her rising gust of passion making it hard to speak.

"Stand here, child," she said, holding shapely little Alice between her thighs. "Let's get you out of these heavy clothes," she joked, pulling the partly unbuttoned shirt over the girl's head.

"Ahhhhhh!" she sighed, sucking in one entire breast, tonguing it as hard as she could, letting it out with a little "pop!" of released suction. "Do your breasts seem to connect with your little pussy?" she asked, running her tongue around her lips, holding the young girl to her to get full contacts with her smooth, warm skin.

"Oh, yesss! Yes, Aunt Lola! Oh, boy, do they ever! Like hot wires. Ooooooh! When old Timmie was kissing them-you were, like, asleep-and stuck his finger up me, I like to've died!" She wriggled her round, firm little bottom in Lola's hands.

"She like to've bit my finger off," the boy laughed. "I only wish I could get crazy enough to stick it in her." His young face clouded. "I just hope I didn't put a baby inside of old Sheri. I'd hate that!"

"You don't have to worry about me," Alice said eagerly. "I've been taking The Pill for a week!" She looked confused, then said, "I was sneaking mama's pills out, and she missed them. I went to old Doc Gold, crying, and told him what had happened. He gave me some more for mama, and two months worth for me." She laughed. "He was so nice! Gave me an examination to see if I needed them!" She dimpled at the two of them, and Lola thought, with an inner grin, of dark, kind, genial old Doctor Gold, his blunt fingers working in Alice's sweet little twat.

"I imagine he told you to come back any time, and he'd give you anoother examination, didn't he?" Lola asked. As the child nodded with enthusiasm, Lola said, as if it were no more than an invitation to do the dishes together: "Well, then, why don't you two go at it? Why don't you fuck?"

There was a blushing silence from Tim, but the young girl, her sweet little face very serious, said: "Look, Timmie, you've always said you would if you knew for sure you wouldn't knock me up. And you did old Sheri. I'll bet she doesn't take The Pill! Come on, Timmie! Look at me, Timmie!"

She turned away from the sheltering thighs of the blonde woman, her sweet young face lit by an inner glow, her slender young body so beautiful that Lola's mouth watered for it.

And Lola did her part. Taking Timmie in her arms, kissing him on his bare chest, she pulled him down on the bed. "Look at that peter," she said admiringly. "Aren't you ashamed, not wanting to stick it into Alice's sweet, wonderful, juicy little twat? Come on," she cried, her lovely face warmly wrapped in gaiety and laughter. "Get on him, Alice, baby! No, turn the other way, so he can see it go in, and you can watch it happening."

She was, actually, more excited than either of the kids. To be a witness as well as a participant, this was the most. And it was what had been the sweetest when she and Mike and all the rest-oft, Ellen, darling, I miss you so! I just realized it!-were in that burst of innocent lust they called "swapping," which actually meant group sex, for it wasn't swapping Mike for Francis, or for Larry, or for Pete-since anybody fucked anybody, any time.

She nearly died of maternal love and lust as naked little Alice, hot, cocksucking little Alice, got her small body across Tim's loins. Like me and Uncle Tommy, except Tim's younger. She had to try twice before she could say it: "Raise your sweet little butt up, baby!" and she put her warm hand under the small girl's beautifully divided little ass, feeling the warm slickness of the child's juice. My goodness, she was a hot little thing!

She heard a sob of desire, felt a sharp lovely pang in the darkest depths of her vagina, a truly hard quirk of nerve and muscle, as she held the little blonde girl's tender cunt open. Her other hand was holding Timmie's penis around its stem, and he had his head up on a pillow, panting as he watched the hot sight of Lola rubbing his soft, rubbery glans in the meaty, slobbering inner lips of his friend's cunt.

Bless Aunt Lola! She was holding his pecker in that light grip she had showed him. He still felt very cummy, but no longer ready to shoot his pure, hot, slick wad the second his dick slipped into the tight split of Alice. For he knew it would be tight. It was. even tight on his finger, the time or two he had obliged her by giving it to her that way, as she crouched over him, sucking his dick.

As he thought of the sweetness of this little kid, of her consuming interest in sex, far more intense than his own, a burst of fuck warmth struck him, and he lunged up against Aunt Lola's guiding hand.

She soothed him with a hand on his belly, letting go, for the moment, of his rampant cock, and he thrust up again.

This time, he went right between Lola's fingers, greased with the little girl's cunt oil, and felt something solid, tight, warm, slippery, and living go around the head of this throbbing dick. Cunt? Alice's tight little fuck sheath? Was he burying his bone in her softly yielding, graciously oozing little fuck hole?

Lola held his cock with her mouth open, watching the girl's soft little pussy let the boy's penis into her, slowly, slipping and sliding against her sensitivity and tightness, until the soft, blubbery lips mashed wetly against the fork of her hand. The pistoning action of Timmie's cock sent the girl's juice spurting out on Lola's hand, and the girl's quavering voice trilled in the dim, hot room: "Ohhh, oh, Aunt Lola! It's so sweet! Look in the mirror, Aunt Lola! Look at me, taking that big thing in! OHHHHHH! MOM! MOM! I'M GETTING FUCKED! OH, DADDY! OH, DADDY! LET ME SUCK YOUR COCK! PLEASE, TIMMIE!" And she was gyrating like a rag doll whirled on a stick, her hips jerking, her small head thrown back, her pink mouth twisting and drooling.

And if young Tim was at all shaken by the girl's wild outcry, he didn't show it. This was the stuff, the real stuff. Yesterday, he was a pure jerk, nothing but a peter-puller, scared to let this chickie-or any other-lip his meat, except on rare occasions. And doing nothing more aggressive than sticking his finger in a childish little pee-hole. No more, baby! He was cooooool!

I shot off on Aunt Lola yesterday, and she ate my jism. I gave her a couple of fucks, and ate her pussy. I stuck my finger in my mom's fuck hole and made her cum like crazy. And she grabbed my dickie and pulled me off-for he had now modified his panicky experience. And last night I sucked 'em all, and stuck my cock into that cute little old fat assed Sheri Olson. Wow! And now Aunt Lola's helping me fuck Miss Little-Tits Alice!

This was .Timmie, bragging to himself. And, if he had but known it, both of the two females concerned-plus two others, not there at the time-would have echoed all he was thinking. With love and pride.

Lola's hand was softly mashed between the girl's fat, leaking cunt lips and Timmie's bushy ring of hair around his prick. There was a rhythmic movement as Alice ground her little body down on the wonderful tool. It was hurting her. Why not? It was bigger than the biggest thing she had ever jacked off with. But she didn't care.

"I love it," she whispered raggedly. Her first big cum was echoing in her body, along every brightly tuned, sensitized cuntal nerve. "Timmie, do it hard! Oh, Timmie! Let me cum again!" and she whispered so softly, so lovingly, that she was barely heard. Lola heard her, but Lola was also listening to the vibrant silence in her own cunt, tasting the raw bite of imagined fuck goo in her mouth, rubbing her hand on the softness, the fullness, of Alice's pussy lips.

But this time, she wasn't going to just go shooting every part of her fuck power in the air, all over a writhing group of kids. No siree! This was planned, all of it, and she felt carefully in the fat, juice-swilling pussy, making young Alice shift her body, making her moan in gut wrenching delight.

She suddenly drew her hand away and got on her knees, right at Timmie's loins. She looked down at the boy's pleased face. There was no doubt that he was in control of himself, but the sight of the young girl's sweetly rounded little ass, so perfect in its small proportions, with his cock stretching and swelling her fat little cunt, had to be a powerful aphrodisiac. "The principal erotic center of every human body," Uncle Tommy used to say, "is not the sexual organs but the mind."

And the blonde child, on her knees with Timmie's cock buried so deeply in her juicy flesh, was a marvelously hot sight to see.

"Don't sit on it," Lola said with quiet force, placing her hand on Alice's firm young thigh. "Straighten out your legs, then lie back on Timmie. Ah, my dear! That's it! Ah, you sweet little cunt! It's so lovely, so wide open! Can you feel how open it is?"

The little girl grunted, moving her body from side to side, getting the stretching thrill of the boy's peter moving from side to side in her young vagina. "It feels wonderful, Aunt Lola," she whispered. Not so deep in as before, but it sure stretches me."

The older woman, who was dying to ask the youngster what she had been using on herself to make her so open for Timmie-he does have a nice-sized peter, Lola thought-placed her hand on the girl's belly. "You're pretty wonderful for such a young girl," Lola said. "You've got the kind of cool you usually find in a grown woman."

The child gripped Lola's forearm, bracing herself to fuck back and forth as best she could, sweat popping out on her upper lip, her young face suddenly flushed with blood. "UUUNNNHHH! UUUNNNHHH!" she grunted, animal noises signifying an animal pleasure. "DAMN YOU, TIM! FUCK ME! FUCK ME, LAZY DOG! UUUNNNHHH!"

Her strong, slender young hips snaked back and forth across the boy's narrow loins. Her entire body sweated, became suffused to a deep rosy pink with the power of another orgasm.

As she relaxed, her cunt more juicy than ever, redder, with its lips seeming to bulge out from Timmie's cock, Lola leaned down.

The musky scent of hot pussy choked in her throat, it was so lovely, and she wanted it so bad. She gathered spit in her lower hp, drawing breath in over it to make a sibilant whistle, and when she had the suction just right, she put it all, teeth, lips, gums, in direct contact with the hard, pinkly raised ridge that centered in Alice's young cunt, still pulsing nervously from her third orgasm.

"Baby!" she whispered through her teeth, making only a confusion of wordless sound. "Baby! Your cunt! Your delicious cunt!" But most of this was in her mind as she drank in the delicious cunt nectar.

Under her light sucking, as she tasted the clear juice and let her soul grow and swell as she drank in the essence of Alice's sex, the young girl's body, not accustomed to such subtleties as being fucked and sucked at the same time, tensed and became rigid.

Timmie cried: "Hey! What's happening? Aunt Lola! What's she doing to my dick? OOOHHH! Her cunt's closing on me!"

And then, as the older woman felt Alice start the first of a series of convulsive spasms, she brutally pressed her forearm on the young girl's breasts, got her other arm across the child's legs, and pressed her open mouth down hard on the upper part, the most sensitive part, of the young pussy, sucking as hard as she could.

"Oh, DON'T, AUNT LOLA!" the child begged, her voice almost strangled as a gush of saliva matched her gush of cunt oils. "OH, TIMMIE! IT'S TOO GOOD! STOP! PLEASE! OHHHHHH!" and then she began to really thrash, her body like steel cables as she whipped her beautiful, soft young pussy up and down, and always with Lola hanging on, sucking as if to take the flesh off the child's painfully throbbing clitoris.

Only when she had subsided into a jelly-like armful of warm, boneless flesh, and Tim had shot her full of his white jism, did she roll her tear-stained face toward Lola and say brokenly: "Thanks, Aunt Lola. What did you do? It was good. Too good!"

She was shivering, and Timmie, panting, said: "Alice, that's the greatest! Oh, baby, how that feels on my prick!"

He fucked up and into her gently, his young cock still hard enough. And Lola, who was steadily licking her lips and swallowing the sweet juices from the boy and the girl, laid her face on Alice's smooth young belly, whispering: "You're what I've been needing!"

Her knees were rubbery from what she had been through. She had known that she would be able to have an orgasm or two, even without anything solid in her cunthole. The sight of Alice impaled on Tim's prick, the taste and smell of the joined organs, all the rank beauty of a fuck that she had planned, taken part in, would be enough. But she could not have known how hard, how strong, how gut-stretching it would be. She felt wrung out.

With gentle strength, she lifted little Alice up, holding the slight but rounded body warmly against her breasts. "My dear," she whispered, kissing the young girl tenderly. "Did you love your fuck-and-suck? Not many people ever have them both at once!"

She moved to a big, deep chair, loving the feel of the sweaty little armful of sweetness pressing her swollen breasts. "You'll have that as often as you want it," she whispered, kissing the girl's closed eyelids, loving the smile she got, the loving feel as the child's naked arms slid around her neck.

Timmie, watching them with laughing eyes, thought: If I watch this a few minutes, I'll have a hard-on big enough for both of them.

From where she sat in the big chair, with little Alice's head on her breast, and with the child's soft, warm body nestled against hers, Lola could see, from the corner of her eye, a segment of the kitchen wall. Through the bedroom door, across the wide hall, through the open door to the kitchen. And something was flickering.

Thought processes move fast, or they move slow. When we are suddenly awakened, they are slow. When we are apprehensive, they are very, very fast. As Lola turned to see better, she realized that she had never changed the chimes back, that the flash of light meant that someone was at the door, pressing the bell button. And, at the same moment, there was a loud knock, and a voice that yelled: "Open up this damned door!"

All of them recognized the angry voice.

It was Ellen Shelton's.