Chapter 4
There was a deep, throbbing warmth in the gorgeously mature cunt of the blonde woman. And she felt, truly, as if she had been fucked. Really fucked, but good.
She turned on her side and caught the dark, handsome young boy staring at her, and he grinned. "I was thinking how wonderful it is to have a, well, a grown up for a friend," he said. "Golly, how often does a kid like me get to really talk to someone who knows what it's all about?" He burrowed against her pleased breasts, so full and heavy from the long, hard orgasm this kid's cock had given her. She pressed him tighter, loving the ache in their soft tissues.
"You mean to talk about fucking, don't you, my darling?" the woman asked tenderly, pushing the damp hair back from his brow. She moved so that her reeking cunt could be close to his cock, which was so sweetly smeared with a his-and-hers cum mixture. "You wanted to ask me some things, didn't you? Like what?"
He was silent for a few seconds, like a boy standing on a high diving board, getting up courage to take the plunge. When he spoke, it was accompanied by a nervous giggle.
"I want to know if-well, if my mom, or anyone else catches me," and he stumbled over the words, his ears scarlet with blushes.
"Catches you doing what, Timmie?" Lola asked. "Out there in your hideaway in the ditch? Masturbating? Or playing with the little Bond girl? By the way," she asked, "does she really suck your cock?"
The boy looked up at her. "I said she did," he remarked in a dubious tone. "But if you tell on me, I'll just say you lied."
He seemed to change his mind like a hummingbird in flight, and nuzzled again between the soft breasts. "Forgive me, Aunt Lola," he begged. "I just get so much shit at home."
She caught her breath. "Tim," she said earnestly, "they shouldn't ever beat you. Damn them! I could-I could-oh, baby, if they ever hit you again, will you tell me? I won't murder them, although I feel like it! But I can sure as hell stop them!" She hugged him to her, and the bright flush of anger seemed to echo in her cunt, for she reached down between their bellies to pick up his sticky-wet cock and squeeze it gently. "Oh, baby," she sighed, "how good you fucked me! I never had any better! God, let's get this pretty peter of yours hard again!"
She moved around so that her face was right at his cock and skinned the head so she could lick around it. There was a rank, deep fragrance that was made up of his wonderful slime and hers, plus the rubbings of hot flesh on hot flesh. Sort of like between your toes on a hot day, she thought with a shuddering pleasure. Like Uncle Tom had been, so many years ago. Letting her suck him or kiss him any where she wanted. So she could learn. So sweet! So good!
The boy moved. "I wanted to ask you," he said in a child's voice, "a guy can't die from, uh, cumming too much, can he? I know that that business about warts in your hand from jerking off, that's a crock of shit. Isn't it? But can a guy get weak and die of T.B. if he wastes his substance?" He tried to laugh, but couldn't.
Lola kissed him all around the cum-matted hair that sprouted at the base of his dick. She held his balls in a gentle hand, amazed at their size and weight. How healthy, how strong!
She cleared her throat of a rush of spit that filled her mouth as she inhaled his crotch's rank and lovely perfume. She wanted to enjoy this lascivious beauty of sexuality, but she also had to choke back a new rush of anger at this boy's parents.
"No!" she spat out. "That's an even worse crock of shit! How dare people teach such lies! Oh, you lovely, wonderful man! Because that's what you are-with a cock like yours, with a love of sex like yours, you're surely not a little boy any more!"
She sucked in his marvelous young balls, licked them with a swirling tongue, then softly let them out again. How well she remembered the marvelous education she'd had from her uncle. And now, by the grace of God and great good luck, she had someone who needed it as badly as she had.
"Listen to me, Tim," she said softly. "A man can fuck as much and as often as he can fuck. Do you understand that? If you have shot all the lovely, rich sperm out of your balls, and have no more to shoot, you can't do it any more. Nature will tell you. Sometimes, a man can still get a hard-on, even when he can't shoot off any more. It's fun, but it can give you a headache. Or an ache in your balls, called a stone-ache. But," she concluded, patting him on his smooth young buttock, "the more you use your equipment, your cock and balls, in the way that nature intended, the more you can do it. Fuck, I mean."
She kissed him lingeringly along the underside of his prick, enjoying the taste and rich smell of their long fuck. The boy had not stirred. "Do you understand, Timmie?" she asked. "And what's more, do you believe me?"
She felt his fingers-or was it his lips?-moving in the tender and sensitive lips of her cunt. It was delightful. So manly and sweet!
"Well?" she asked, wondering at his long silence.
"I believe you, Aunt Lola," the boy responded. "But I'm still sort of scared-about if anybody catches me. You never answered me on that."
"I know," Lola answered. "I got strung out on something else. Your dad beating you. And you never said just exactly what you meant about someone catching you. Tell me, baby." She mouthed his young cock briefly, her pulses surging as she realized it was getting hard. "First, though, don't ever be afraid to screw. Or to suck and be sucked. I promise, you won't die from it."
He squirmed a bit, and she sensed that he wanted her mouth around his prick again. Gratefully, she sucked it back into the depths of her throat, swallowing to give the head a hard massage. The friction on his young dick seemed to excite him, for he grabbed her head, one hand on each side, and tried to fuck into her deeper. She held her fingers around the hard stem of his prick, thicker at the base, enjoying the marvelous feeling of closeness, of helping.
But she needed help, too. There was a fire still burning in the dark and slobbery depths of her pussy, a swelling need that welled up in her, even after their hard and satisfying fuck.
It was the boy who seemed to sense what she needed.
He was lying with his eyes so near her crotch that he could see every pink, slick convolution of her inner lips. Her blonde cunt hard, darkened near the fuck hole by their mingled juices, seemed to steam and move with her desire. The opening to her vagina still hung partly open, relaxed by the power of her orgasm, and a clear stream of her sweet and rich tasting cuntal essence drained slowly out, to spread across the soft skin on her strong thigh.
He had shot his wad twice in something like an hour, this boy of thirteen, but the wealth of female flesh, this warmth of welcome and equality given him by a woman he had always loved, made him feel capable of great things. Indeed, the brave words Lola had just spoken, her assurance that a man could fuck far more than he might believe, added heat and hardness to his pulsing dick.
And, after living with his very minor knowledge, to have new fields open to him, this was heaven!
He got his strong, slender arms around the woman's thighs, at their thickest point, where they joined her body. It gave him something to hold on to, but more than that, it was a part of woman that intrigues a man's mind most. And why not? It's closest to the real thing, the softly parted, juicily dripping, aromatic cunt.
With a groan of happiness and lust, he sank his mouth over as much of this wide-open pudding of oozing flesh and membrane as he could take in, tonguing and sucking as hard as he could. In spite of his very brief experience with little Alice Bond-and with her friend, Sheri Olson-he had never dared ask: "Does this feel good? Is this the right place? Am I doing this right for you?" Male ego forbid! And besides, he thought, they were kids. What did they know?
Now, with his face buried in reeking, sweetly perfumed cunt flesh, sucking up the clear juices from the woman's vagina, he suddenly knew that there was more to pleasing a woman than simply fucking or sucking. You had to know.
Nevertheless, he felt her strong body surge against his ducking mouth, felt her close more tightly on his cock as his tongue struck deep into the hole where his prick had been. He knew that women had a thing called a clitoris, because he had read of it. The books and magazines he had read had all been soberly scientific, for all the garishly explicit photographic illustrations. He even had a good idea of where this little gadget might be. So, as he moved his head back from the juice-producing cunt hole of this lovely woman, he whipped his strong young tongue deep into the flesh just below where her slit began.
It was fantastic.
The big thighs, so warm and smooth and sweet, closed on his head, and he felt the lady he had always called "Aunt Lola" fuck against his face in wild abandon. He felt her warm mouth leave his dick, and heard her hoarse screams: "OHHHHHH! OH, GOD, TIMMIE BOY! SUCK IT, BABY! A A A ARRRRGGGGHHHH! GO-GO-GO, TIMMIE! OHHHHHHH! OH, MY BABY! SO-O-O-O-O-O GOOOOOOOD!"
His hands pried at the thick, slobbery lips of her cunt, at the crease under her powerful buttocks. He was all right, he could get sufficient breath, but he loved the yielding firmness of woman flesh under his strong young fingers. The juice that was more than he could swallow, that seemed spread all over his face from ear to ear, from brow to chin, was sweeter than any syrup he knew. And the pink, slick fullness of inner cunt lips, which he could now suck into his own lips and tease with his tongue, made his joy complete.
When Lola felt the black flame of orgasm begin to die inside her vagina, she loosened the grip of her thighs, and tugged at the young boy's head. "Come around and up, dear," she said, her voice breaking with a laugh that came from her guts. "I want to suck my dirty old cum off your sweet face. Oh, wow!" and she hugged him as his body came against hers, breast on breast, "that's enough to make a woman forget all she ever knew. Oh, Timmie," and she shuddered with echoing rapture as she pressed him against her fuck-swollen titties, "it doesn't seem possible that you never had any experience!"
He felt a rush of pride, but with it, an honest humility.
"I wish I knew more, Aunt Lola," he whispered. "That thing that ladies have, that clee-toh-riss, is that how you say it? I didn't know where it was, but I must have hit it, didn't I?" He wriggled against her warmth, his hard young cock prodding into her sensitized flesh. "You sure did cum! Did I really find it?"
She was gently but thoroughly kissing his shining face, feeling very close to tears in the released love she felt for this kid.
"You hit it, all right, baby," she said in a choked voice. "Oh, Tim, you're just wonderful. And your beautiful cock, it's so hard, and it tasted so lovely. I must have just leaped away from it when that huge cum shot off in my guts. Hey, get up here, sit on my chest. I just thought of something."
She was excited, now, with her idea, a thing she had done years ago, with Mike, in their first ten years of marriage. And she remembered the first time, too, with her uncle. He had said he would make her titties grow, and he had. How wonderful he had been, how much he had done for her!
She felt her cunt pop open as she moved her body, and hastily closed her thighs. As hot as she was, even the warm summer air in her bedroom seemed chilly.
When the boy was sitting precariously on her ribs, with his hard cock lying on her flesh, on the slick and sweated skin between her big breasts, she put her hands on his thighs. "Move up toward me, toward my head," she said. "Rest your weight on your knees. There, that's the way. Oh, God, Timmie, I hope this works. Do you like my titties?"
He pressed his thighs against them, forcing them up from where they spilled down the sides of her rib cage in their lush weight.
On their white, smooth skin, the little veins just beneath etched a road map of light blue traceries, everyone leading to her nipples. They were big and hard, and seemed to her to have been that way ever since she had seen Tim beating his meat in the hidden ditch. She could feel the slow, regular pound of her heart, each throb making a deeply loving link of warmth between tit and cunt.
"Squeeze them," she whispered hoarsely. "Hurt me, baby! Squeeze them hard! OHHHHH! OH, GOD ABOVE US! THAT'S THE WAY! OHHHHH!"
He was so hot by now that he was not startled by the woman's screams, did not care if he hurt her, sensing, in some dim way, that to be hurt was exactly what her body needed.
But his action to press the softly firm breasts up had held them around his cock, just for a moment, and the heat and silken feel of the titties, the essence of motherhood, added a new flame to his already heated fuck system. Without knowing what he was doing, or why, he held the soft pillows of tit-flesh together, and fucked hard between them, watching their friction pull the skin off the red head of his dick.
At the same time, Lola Todd strained to get her head up, her open mouth pink and shiny with an overflow of spit, which drooled out the corners Of her mouth.
"Get me a pillow, Timmie," she said in a strained voice. "Double it. Shove it under my head. There! I think that does it. Listen, am I slick enough between my titties?" She felt him shove his cock into the valley between her breasts again, and thought: My God, I've got cum nerves in my boobs! It feels almost like my pussy!
But she saw that there was just a little too much friction for the boy to really enjoy, and she whispered: "Hold still a second."
As the young boy, his eyes half closed in lust and anticipation, rocked gently back and forth on the responsive skin of her ribs and belly, she raised her knees and felt with both hands for her lusting cunt, pulling the hairy lips apart with one hand, scooping out cunt ooze with the other. Just the feel of her hands in her pulsing vulva gave her a little shock of cum fever, and she smiled, thinking of the ease with which she would get her ovaries off in this experience.
She drew her hand back, full of her vaginal flow, and in a corner of her brightly lit mind, remembered her uncle on that sweet and faraway day, saying: "This is a girl's natural lubricant."
Then, while Tim watched, grinning and twisting each time she touched his sensitive cockhead, she let the dollop of pussy juice flow over his prick and into the warm valley between her titties.
"Now," she whispered, her heart speeding its beat, "hold my titties around your cock. Fuck! There! How's that?"
"Fine," he panted. "Oooooh, it's so nice and slick! And it smells so good! Oh, that wonderful juice!"
They were both holding her breasts tightly around his young cock, and he was milking them in rhythm with his fucking motions. There was a beautiful pang of hard pain each time he milked down on their soft fullness, but Lola was concentrating on the thrust of his cockhead, which now touched her lower lip at each follow-through.
She let go her breasts to put her hands behind his buttocks.
"Move up," she demanded hoarsely. "Oh, God, that feels good!"
She closed her eyes, feeling a wonderful subtlety. As his weight pulled the skin on her belly tight, there was a sharp pressure from her tightly drawn skin to the upper part of her split, where the thick lip-flesh made a cloak for her clitoris. So slight, so sweet! When he shot his glorious semen across her lips, into her face, he would be fucking hard, and she would fold her thighs over each other, to get the full delight of that taut pull on her most craving part of cuntal spread.
As he obediently moved forward, his hard young thighs caught the lower portion of her boobs, the rich fullness where milk is stored by a lactating female. There was a sharp beauty in the hard pinch he gave her there, and then, beauty of beauties! By opening her mouth to its fullest, she was catching the soft, smooth head of his cock between lip and tongue. Over and over, as he panted and fucked, and now, by timing her moves just right, she could press her hard tongue on the tender underside of his cockhead.
He was riding her with the unconsciously cruel abandon of a horseman, using her soft, beautifully hurting breasts as reins, and fucking deeply between her mounds of soft flesh and smooth skin. Better, he was seeing it all, the big nipples squeezed out between his fingers and thumbs, the dark red head of his cock as it shot through the crease between her breasts and into her mouth.
In Lola's entire body, there was a wild glow of fulfillment. She had never had so much fuck-fun in her life, not even with Uncle Tommy, not even with Mike. Because she was doing this. She was not a simple receiver of fuck pleasure, she was the creator of new ideas for this boy, giving him not only the fruits of her hot and juicy body, but the greater wildness of her lascivious mind.
She was trying to say "Fuck me, Timmie," but each time she had the phrase framed, her jaws closed to hold the boy's cock, however briefly. She was wrapped in a warming dream of sex fantasy, the aroma of cunt and cock and sweated assholes and armpits all around them both, the twisting thrust of near-orgasm stabbing into her fundament with every surge of Timmie's cock between her breasts and into her mouth.
She was hanging on a hair trigger of cumming, and thought for just a second that it might be better, fuller for the boy, if she let him slide back and jam his tool into her pussy.
But this, she knew, was right and good. Even if it was their first time. To let him find out for himself that there were more ways to get pleasure from sex than any man could ever fully explore. That he was man enough to strike out along new pathways, to use a woman as nature intended she should be used-in every way which would give their minds as well as their bodies the dark thrill of bursting lust.
Without asking, she knew that the young boy was very close to cumming, but she could not ask, for fear of losing that final, fateful thrust into her jaws that would bring him, shooting and screaming, to his third big cum. But she was suddenly ablaze with a desire to shoot her own wad, to blast an orgasm that would burst in every dark millimeter of her squirming, flowing vagina. In some manner, a blessing, she supposed, one of her grasping hands flew out and found the super-dildo that had been carelessly tossed on the bed, and lost in a jumble of sheet and blanket as she and Timmie loved and enjoyed.
She remembered to let his penis come in and hit the roof of her mouth and scrape softly back over her tongue and lips. But she found the heat and the "ejaculation" switches and jammed one end-she wasn't sure which-into her blissfully welcoming cunt just as Timmie's first burst of pale, rich seed spurted from his balls.
He could not stop his thrusting, it had become too much a part of him, of the life in his spurting cock. In a burst of startled delight, he watched his cock appear between the compressed titties, slip into the pink and drooling mouth over a coiled tongue, and then shoot a blasting jet of sperm into his "Aunt Lola's" mouth, overflowing it even as she closed her lips to suck the head of his swollen, spurting cock.
He could feel the slickness of his buttocks, their smooth skin sliding back and forth on the now sweat-greased belly of the blonde woman, and it gave his balls, drawn tight against his pole, a lovely feeling of outside fucking. But he had to lock his knees tightly against her body as she suddenly began to writhe and twist and fuck up at him in the wildest orgasm she had yet had.
There was a hard, beautifully painful burst of consuming fire in the woman's body, a hidden flame that surged through her belly, squirmed fiercely in the dark juiciness around her womb, and spilled out along with the huge shot of imitation jism that was pumped into her from the life-like reservoirs on the fuck-machine. It seemed to lash into her with more force than any human cock could muster, and the higher heat of it made her scream, even as she mouthed the boy's cock and swallowed the richness squirted from his balls.
When he fell off her, as dazed as any animal after a hard fuck, she turned with him, her own smitten mind unable or unwilling to give up the hard contact with his body.
One of her breasts was caught between her ribs and the boy's thigh, and she groaningly pulled her weight off it, the dark pain of the bruised breast a final period placed after a perfect orgasm.
"Thank you, thank you, Aunt Lola," the boy whispered. Thank you for teaching me these things."