Chapter 12

That was a wonderful week for Lola, and for a lot of others.

It began with a boy, and ended with a man.

It began the morning after Ellen, half staggering from love and sex, left Lola's back yard via the fence, scrambled into the famous ditch-"because I want to know how my son's been living"-and went into her own home.

That was the morning when Lola, sleeping late and with a smile on her face, awoke slowly and happily. To a remembered feel, a remembered bouquet. Young Timmie. Proud, laughing, with a marvelous hard-on. Pushed right against her face.

"Mama said to tell you she sent you this," he grinned, pushing the high-smelling peter right across her upper lip. "She said to ask you if you recognized the aroma."

It woke Lola right up, and she hugged the boy around his narrow hips, his hard cock under her chin. "Your mom," she gasped. "Timmie, you didn't."

"I did," the boy said calmly. "You told me that mom really wanted me, deep down." He giggled. "You were right. She got it. Deep down!"

She gave his throbbing penis a quick, loving suck, wrapping her tongue around it, as Uncle Tommy had taught her. "I won't fuck you," she said softly. "I want it. But your mom needs it worse, just for now. Don't worry," she cried as she saw his face fall. "What I've got here," and she put her hand on her warm pussy, "is always yours. I mean it. Any time you want it, you can have it.

And back here, too, you naughty boy," she smiled, patting her behind. "Ooooh, Timmie, we discovered some new country, didn't we?"

"New cunt-ry," he echoed, then laughed at his joke. He hugged the blonde woman in controlled excitement, squeezing her bountiful breasts. "Golly, Aunt Lola, you're some kind of miracle worker. Mom said to say that both of us love you all to pieces."

That was the first morning.

That afternoon, there was a timid knock at her back door. It was the two young girls, Alice Bond, the little blonde sprite, and Sheri Olson, the darkly lovely child with the happy-jiggling breasts, the marvelously mature behind, the sweetly dark haired pussy.

They looked solemn, then looked at each other and began to giggle. "You say it," Sheri said, turning scarlet, and the blonde nymphet shook her blonde tresses and said: No! You!"

Wisely, her heart thumping, she took them in her bedroom.

"Take off your clothes," she said, her tongue feeling marvelously thick and hard, her mouth gushingly flooded with spit. "I'm sure we can all talk better, that way."

When they were all in a friendly state of warm nudity, rubbing against each other, sweating a bit, kissing each other, Lola said: "Ask me what you were going to ask."

The two children, their arms around her and each other, rocked with laughter. "You already answered," Sheri said. "We wondered if we dreamed all that stuff. All that fun and love." Her chubby face grew serious. "Oh, Aunt Lola, we never knew that sex was supposed to be fun.

Everybody's always so serious about it. Except you."

Girls their age are so sweet. Lola remembered Nola. And Mary Lou. And now, with these hot little kids, willing to try anything not only once, but as often as she wanted, she was a kid, too. How hot, how slick their little twats! How sweet the flow from those near-virgin cunt lips!

"God, baby, you're so sweet," Lola groaned, lifting her face from between blonde Alice's strong thighs. "And don't you stop kissing my cunt from back there, lazy," she admonished the giggling Sheri, whose face was between her big, satiny asscheeks. "I've said the same to you! Sweet things!" and she pushed into the small, delicious flaps of flesh over the tiny girl's oozing little pussy. "OH, GOD!" she wailed, as Sheri's tongue touched the tenderest spot of all, her hard clitoris. "SUCK ME, SWEETIE!"

And her own sweet mouth brought little Alice into a tensely jerking fit of girlish orgasm.

A lot of nice things. Like Ellen coming over the same way she'd left, grinning as she came over the fence.

"Gee, I know that's undignified," she remarked, looking lewd. "I hope I didn't show anything I shouldn't."

"You couldn't, not here," Lola answered, and the two reunited friends embraced lovingly, fully, mouth on mouth, tongues meeting.

Drinking coffee, Ellen looked shrewdly at Lola. "How'd you know I was ripe for a return to normal?" she asked. "Witchcraft?"

Lola smiled. "I never told you all about my Uncle Tommy," she said. "Not really all. I told you that mama was poisonously religious, didn't I?

Did I tell you about Uncle Tommy's hints that he and my mom had been very brotherly and sisterly?"

Ellen laughed. "Kept it in the family," she said.

"Right on," Lola replied. "That was when they were young. And I told you that Tommy never could believe how strict mom was?"

At Ellen's nod, she laughed. "She was the first girl Uncle Tommy ever fucked. And one day, when I came home from school, they weren't there. Only a note: 'Good-bye, Lola. It's been sweet. But you're too young, and I'm leaving with the only woman I ever loved.' Funny thing," Lola said drily, "under his signature, mama had written 'be a good girl and take care of your father.' That was it."

"God damn!" Ellen swore. "And you figured if your mama got tired of religion, that I would?"

"You two are a lot alike," Lola said calmly.

"But where'd you go to live?" Ellen demanded, seeing in her mind that sexually precocious ten-or eleven-year-old nymphet, suddenly bereft of her ration of hard cock. "What did you do?"

"Like mama said," the blonde answered, her lip quirking up in an odd smile. "She said to take care of daddy. And daddy changed a lot. He sort of dug me. Remember, I had tits and cunt hair. I was no little kid anymore. That's how I knew you were ready!"

It held so many memories, that brief explanation, that Lola and Ellen came time after time, bodies warmly meeting, tongue-fucking each other until it seemed their cunts would bleed.

But the best of all, in some ways, happened on Friday afternoon. Late, sort of. Around five. Starting with her bell chimes ringing.

"Well, well," the big-breasted woman said, opening her door. "If it isn't Officer Pogue. What's the charges, officer?"

"Not admitting an officer," the young guy said boldly. He had on a sport shirt instead of his tight uniform blouse, but all the same, he seemed to have trouble with his breathing.

Lola opened the door and walked straight back to her bedroom. She was unbuttoning the shirt she had been wearing. She didn't worry about her panties. Someone else, someone strong and eager and dear, would take care of that for her.

"I said come back if you were ever thirteen again," she said, tensely waiting for the sound of his zipper. "I must say, you do look very young. And handsome." she shivered. The sound of his zipper was sweet and sibilant.

"I got to feeling about thirteen," he said. "If you don't believe me, just look!"

"Oh, God above us," she whispered. "He's so beautiful! Will he bite me?" she dimpled at the tall young man, who had dropped his pants and shorts, and dropped to her knees before him, taking the purple smoothness of his blood-gorged cock into her mouth. It was the best of the week. Maybe the best of her life.

She looked up at him, her dimples showing. "You never did say what brought you here," she said brazenly.

He pulled her up, his big hands warm on her butt, pulling the firm cheeks apart, so that she felt her cunt lips pop apart.

"You're just about to have it stuck in you," he said.