Chapter 5
There are dimensions to memory not known in the simple world of reality. In Lola Todd's great, warm heart, the now of young Tim Shelton and his need for her was overprinted in living color on a scene backdated more than three decades. A young boy's blossoming pride tinctured by his confession: "I wish I knew more, Aunt Lola," when he already had so much native talent. And a slim sprite of a girl not old enough to even think of such things-at least, she knew the rest of the world would agree on that-listening with lust glazing her eyes as her uncle said: "I can get part of it in your soft, sweet little cunt, shoot my jism into you, suck it out, and give it to you with my kiss."
What a lovely, human moment, what a sweet and courageous thing for a grown man to go through for his little niece. And after all, she had been awfully pushy, coming into his downstairs room the very first day after he had found his job, like some little fool looking for a relative she already loved, for-what? What had she been after?
Not sex. Surely not. She was too young. She knew nothing. And yet, when she saw that enormous cock arise from the open fly of his pajama pants, she knew enough to suck it. She remembered how she had flushed with pride and love as Uncle Tommy had complimented her on the marvels of her lips and tongue. But not nearly so warm as when, after seeing that she had the deep thrill of her first real orgasm, he had said: "You really came, baby! And that stuff coming out of your tight little pussy is a girl's natural lubricant, made to help a guy get into you. Beautiful!"
Completely hairless, the tall man thought, licking his lips. God, what a sight! Cunt lips as thick as if she were ten years older, being pushed apart as her inner lips swelled. Hot blood forced into them by the pounding pulse of her heart, making them itchy with the need to be fucked or sucked. And that flow of pussy juice! Man! This little piece of poontang was going to be the best he ever had!
Tom Storick had never thought of himself as selfish. Since he left home, he had always had good jobs as a machinist, making good money. He had never married, he claimed, because he had never found "the right girl." A shrink could have told him he was afraid of himself, as well as afraid of women. Afraid to commit himself. When he picked up a "broad," as he thought of women, it never occurred to him that it was himself who had been picked up, used as the owner of a stiff, hot prick, and forgotten. He never took a "broad" to his own place. If she didn't have an apartment, forget it. Paying eight or ten bucks for a motel just to fuck a girl? Not Tom Storick! Too much like paying for pussy to suit him.
Now, he was in a different situation. Just the touching sight of this fat, cute, slick, softly hairless little cunt made a sort of difference. She had never even had a boy's finger in that drippy, sweet little pink hole. His tongue had told him "no maidenhead," but a girl could lose that any old way. In spite of picking him up just for a good-time fuck, women liked him as they would like a child, and talked freely with him. About their bodies, about nozzles, bike or horseback riding. And, naturally, with various masturbatory instruments.
But not this sweet little chickie, he told himself. Oh, maybe she had shoved something in her cunt. She was hot, or she would never have sucked his cock. He shuddered with lascivious delight, thinking of the delicately slick, warm pleasure her tongue and mouth and throat and sucking lips had given him. And she was so young, so pliable, so easily led. Goddamn, he could fuck her in her ear, and she would think it was marvelous.
"Lie on your back, baby," he said to her softly. "Raise your sweet little legs in the air. Back against your chest. Your tits, I mean. Wow! What a cute, fat, juicy little pussy! How did you break your maidenhead?"
The child blushed, but kept her knees back against her tiny, soft little breasts. They were aching in anticipation. Uncle Tommy had really sucked on them. He had said he would make them big, big, big! And already, tingling from the powerful suction of his mouth, they sure as hell felt bigger.
"I just did it last week," she said in a low, sweet voice. "I used my finger, before. But after you came here-" and her voice tailed off in confusion.
Her uncle bent and kissed her in the juicy spread of her young cunt, again enjoying the smoothness of her outer lips. "Now that we're having our fun," he said, "it won't be long before you have some pretty blonde hairs on this lovely little snatch of yours."
"Snatch!" What a lovely, cute, different name for a girl's cunt! It sounded so grown up. Uncle Tom was so good, so thoughtful, to be willing to teach her all these things. All these lovely names for her plain little old parts. And how she could use them. For him and her.
He licked around luxuriously, slowly, in the thick, pinkly swollen petals of flesh around and above her cunt hole. He had never tasted a cleaner, sweeter pussy, but it had the good, strong savor that a woman's body ought to produce. It was fantastic, a kid not yet ten. His cock was already hard, but the thought of it going slowly into this tiny little cunt made it jerk as if he were already set to shoot his hot load.
He backed away and stroked his finger in the hole. It went in without too much trouble.
"What did you use?" he asked quietly, smiling at the flushed little face. "Last week, when I moved in."
Lola tried to speak, had to lick her lips, they were so dry. Her face was suffused with blushes. "A cucumber," she whispered. "A sort of small cucumber, you know. But it didn't hurt me much, and I only bled a teensy bit." Again her entire body was swept by a rosy blush. "I just had to do something, Uncle Tommy! It's real hard to be a girl. A little girl, going on ten. You're just nothing."
He leaned down again, sucking gently at her sweetly moving hole, his big, soft hands holding her thighs, which were so beautiful for a little kid. Not fat, just nice and full. And her ass had the fullness, the lovely, rounded shape of a grown woman. Just on a very small scale. A miniature woman. A cucumber! How big a one?
He drove his tongue into her vaginal aperture. Naturally, his tongue could be compressed more than his hard cock. But it went in as far as he could drive it, and little Lola writhed in the grasp of his strong hands.
"Oooooh, that's so NICE!" she groaned, the final word going up the scale as her body squirmed and shuddered. "Is my clit around there? Can you see it?"
She sounded rapturously excited, and he drew back, looking into those clearly visible folds, with not one cunt hair to obscure his vision. "I see it, baby," he said huskily, trying not to pant. "It's just as hard as my cock, only not as big."
"Oh, Uncle Tommy, I know it's a lot to ask, and I'm maybe so tight I might hurt you. But would you see if you can get it in me? Please! Please!" Her slender, lovely young body humped with a controlled pre-orgasmic convulsion, and her uncle thought, in surprise: She's really a sweet little broad, thinking about me instead of herself.
He put his finger into her cunt more boldly now. If a cucumber had gone in here, a finger wouldn't hurt anything. He felt around. Felt like any hot, mature woman's cunt. Smaller. Jesus, she'd be tight! The thought caused him to pump his finger in and out, and the cunt oil ran out of her in a stream. And he could only stand this aching hard-on just so long. With all that juice, it might go.
He carefully, thoughtfully eased her young legs down. She closed her eyes and sighed. It must have been painful, being in that position so long. Tom kissed her on her soft, smooth, pink belly.
She held his head, humping up and down. "Oh, golly, Uncle Tom," she said, "that was so nice, finger-fucking me like that. Can you do it just a little more? And bend it so it touches my clit? I could cum in two seconds. OOOOOOH! I almost made it then!"
He stroked gently over her breasts, which were larger and harder than they had been. "Honey," he said softly, "we're going to do it all. That is, if you're game to try. It may hurt a lot."
"Oh, no!" she cried. "I don't want to hurt you, Uncle Tommy! Let's use a cucumber-or something-on me until I'm bigger!"
Once again, he felt that strange feeling for this little kid. Or maybe it was coming to him from this tiny girl. A feeling that she really cared for him. He hadn't had that kind of feeling since he'd been fourteen. His mother had-well, never mind that. Thinking such things didn't do any good. He had just misunderstood, that was all. Calling his mom, his own mom, a dirty whore. Just because she'd caught him jerking off, and, with her work worn hands, had taken hold of his young cock and tried to help him.
Much later, he'd realized that she had really cared. But right then, when he'd been thinking of his sister's sensually plump and overripe body, it had seemed terrible to him.
But this kid! She was something else.
"It's all right, baby doll," he whispered. "I'll lie on my back. You get up over me, straddle me, and we can work your little cunt down over the head. Then, if it hurts too much, you can get off!" .
Very soberly, the young girl rolled over, got on her knees, and took his cock gently in her soft little hand. "You must tell me," she said, "the very minute it hurts you. Promise?"
With a fresh twinge of that strange feeling, Tom Storick held the tiny girl and kissed her tenderly. It was fantastic, the way she had taken to French kissing. Goddamn, her tongue was like a grown woman's. Well, no wonder. Look how she sucked a cock. Unbelievable!
"Let me feel in your sweet little hole," he said. "We want to be sure there's plenty of that natural lady-oil." he laughed in a strangely soft way. "Lady oil! How do you like that, baby? Does it make you feel grown up?"
The small but perfectly formed child hugged her young breasts, her eyes closed at the heat of her thought processes. "It makes me want to get on you and have your peter go in me," she said thickly. "It makes me want to get it 'way up me, and fuck and fuck and fuck!"
He helped her get astride of his loins. She was so small that her hole was not high enough from him to let his cock even touch the fuck hole.
He felt between her thighs. They were wet with her cunt oozings. He loved the feel of the silken skin, so warm and soft, of the big tendons on the inside of her thigh. His thumbs held the puffy flaps back, opening her as wide as he could. His head was on a pillow, so he could see what was happening. A hot sight. Throbbing cock, drippy cunt.
The little girl's face was solemn, tense, her desperate desire for a complete penetration showing in every sweetly molded line of her girlish features. A sudden, unexpected wave of tenderness swept the man, and the even more surprising thought: I must be good to her.
It took some of the red heat out of his dick. He made the little girl lean far to her right, raising her left knee high off the bed. By pushing on his rigid prick, he got the head of it back into the hot and slippery area of her cuntal opening, although he had to push hard to get it past the flesh-padded pubic arch. It almost got him, that slick pressure of wet inner cunt lip on that most sensitive part just below his prickhead. But now he was lodged in it, and it was absolutely beautiful. So slick but so tight. He lunged up, trying to sink an inch of his hard column in the tight entrance, and the child cried out in excitement and pain.
"Oh, golly, Uncle Tommy! My stars but you're BIG!" There was the bleat of terror in her voice, as if she might burst into a childish bit of crying, and he made his body stand still. It was very hard to do. He could feel every heartthrob in the nerve-taut head of his cock, pinched in as it was by the tiny hole. But he lay perfectly quiet.
It was perhaps the best thing he could have done. His moment of stillness so surprised the young girl that she forgot to be afraid, forgot her tension. The tightness in her little cunt was part physical, part mental. As her mind went away from the violent, hard pain in her tender little fuck hole, her weight and gravity gave her the most pleasant shock of her life-her body opened enough to let almost two inches of Tom's cock into her.
It felt a foot long and three inches across to the tiny pussy, but the pull of his prick, dragging part of her inner lips into the cunt hole, made an indescribably wonderful pressure on her aching clitoris. Taut membrane was pulled even tighter, .the little bud of fuck-nerves could stand no more, and the child who was impaled on the man's dick screamed hoarsely, her eyes closed in mind-bending surges of rapture as her racing blood and fiddle-string nerves launched a gut-smashing orgasm.
It may have been true, as the girl said later, that it was trying to get out and peter held it back, so that I almost blew apart." Or it may have been simply that this kind of orgasm, involving her clit, her pelvic floor muscles, even her little rectum, which was assuredly being pressed by man's prick, made her completely wild.
Her voice ripped through the still air: "AAAIIIEEEEE! AAAIIIEEE! OOHHHHHH! OHHHHH! I'M CUMMMMIINNGGG! OH, FUCKY, FUCKY, GOODY! FUCK UP ME! UNCLE TOMMY! FUCK UP ME! HARD! HARDER!" And, all the while, her tiny body was jerking madly, out of control, like a toy monkey-on-a-stick. Until Tom Storick's overloaded balls, triggered by his inflamed mind and cock, released their heavy load of pearly jism, so that the red hot child felt a new thrill. Jet after jet of hot, slick seed, slicker than her own cunt juice, and she felt as if she would burst from all that pressure, not knowing that she was supplying most of it.
In any case, her hammering and the slickness of his semen did something neither thought could happen-neither the cock went deeper into the girl's teensy pussy, or her teensy pussy went farther down on the hard cock.
She had been cumming in such adult fashion that it made her sick, like a fist in the belly, and the final inch of this penetration ripped something, so that her terrified little cunt closed on Uncle Tom's cock like a vise. She continued to feel the sharp, hard blasts of sexual explosions deep up her cunt, all over the reddened and juicy cuntal spread, but she had no control over her movements.
She fell forward like a boneless lump of meat, and her uncle and his prick could take no more. She was small, perhaps eighty pounds at most, but that dead weight was like a ton. His thought was that the girl may have been right, her tightness might have torn the foreskin loose from his cock. So he, too, was terrorized.
They both fell sideways, thought, and it immediately took the worst of the pressure from them both. Indeed, it felt so good to find that he was still pouring his jism into his little niece that the tall man drew his loins back and slowly, gently, pumped his cock into the girl's pussy, now relaxed and much, much less gripping.
Under other circumstances, Tom Storick might have been petty and mean. But that amazing warmth of affection and concern stuck with him, and he stroked his warm hand over the graceful curve of the little girl's flanks and hip, his fingers just touching in the sweated, cum-juiced slickness between the globes of her ass. It gave them both a feeling of contentment, a wordless joy that was based on a new feeling for both of them, a sense of belonging. Tom had never felt this intangible but powerful welding of souls except with his mother and sister, and in their cases, it had dissipated long ago.
Now, looking at this bright child's beautiful little face, he said something he could not remember saying, ever before: "I love you, Lola! Oh, my darling, I love you so much!"
And the little girl, her virginity-if you could say that a girl who had jammed a warm cucumber in her cunt was a virgin-destroyed by a throbbing, hard cock, buried her face in her uncle's bare chest, shedding tears of emotional rapture.
It was like pulling a wrist out of some vacuum, getting his cock out of the little girl. Her inner muscles could not seem to stop, they crawled and sucked up and down Tom's prick, keeping it hard. Thus, in her tightness, with his long lasting hard-on, they were almost like two dogs, "stuck."
It was only after the girl, her heat growing quickly again after her terrible, blissful orgasm, began to pump her slight ass back and forth on the man's big fuckstick, that they could get any motion at all. His jism and her virgin blood, partly sucked out by the piston-like action, created a slickness that finally enabled her vaginal portal to dilate enough for a bit of air to get in. He could not cum again, but she could, and as she screamed out a new spasm, he pumped into her very gently, letting her own clutching and expanding vaginal muscles release him.
Now that they were free of each other, they both had a madness to go back, to lock their loins, large and small, in another belly-to-belly contact. But the actual sex was over.
Except for one thing. Tom's promise.
She pushed at his head as he opened her thighs to let his mouth over her slack twat. "I'm all gooey and bloody," she protested.
"I shot in most of the goo, and I caused the blood," the man said. "You didn't do a very good job with that cucumber," he added humorously.
"Gosh, baby, I'm surprised you didn't holler more. It must have hurt like blazes."
The girl was lying on her back, now, with her legs up, her sweet little pussy, its inner lips red and slack, pointing up at Tom. "I guess it did hurt," she said softly, as though trying to remember something that happened long ago. "Like I would tear, or something. But I kept thinking: I have to have that cock! I have to feel it deep up my cunt! I have to feel Uncle Tom's juice shoot deep into my belly! And I had it all. Only," and she blushed, "I think there was still a lot that didn't go into me. I'm sorry, Uncle Tommy. Maybe next time I can take it all. That is, if you don't think I'm just a silly baby, not old enough or big enough to fuck!"
He held his hand warmly on her taut, rounded little butt, looking deep into the bubbly center of her being, the real heart of her cunt. Spent emotion, two enormous cums, had left it sagging open. There were thick gouts of blood congealing in the mixture of his cum juice and hers. It looked so strange on the spread lips of a pussy too young to have even one golden hair.
The man almost wept as he thought of all the meanings, the implications of this weird action. He had always called women and girls "broads" and had thought of them simply as cunts, more or less nicely packaged in a female body for him to poke his dick into. The youngest girl he had ever fucked before today had been his sister, this child's mother, and she had been fourteen to his very mature twelve. And never, never had he felt any sense of obligation, of commitment. He could not have phrased it, but this is true-unless you give as well as receive, you can never commit yourself nor can you experience the peace and security of feeling that another person has made a commitment to you.
"I want you to have my jism in your sweet little tummy," he said. "I want you to be a part of me. I want you to have your sweet virginal blood back, too, to nourish you, to give you more and richer blood to pump through your heart when you and I fuck."
The girl's eyes twinkled. "Just don't suck out any part of that nutty maidenhead and give that back to me. Any girl in her right mind hates the darn thing! Whoopee!" she cried, as her Uncle Tommy went down on her, sucking so hard that her guts seemed to be pulled out of her cunt hole. "Whoopee! I've been fucked!"
What grace, what love, what warmth of freedom for a young girl to have!
The two of them stripped the bed and took the bloodstained sheet into the laundry room, where they ran it through a cold water soaking cycle, then through a long washing cycle.
Naked and happy, they hung the clean sheet on the line behind the hedge. Far below, some drivers or passengers in cars along old Highway 101 might see two small and nude looking figures and wonder if their eyes deceived them, or if the pair really were naked. But they didn't care. They were happy. "I've never been so fuck-happy in my life, baby," Tom had said, and the gay, laughing child, holding his warm, sticky prick, giggled! "I guess I'm the fuck-happiest I've ever been, too, Uncle Sweetmeat!"
In her own home, watching a young boy cover his beautiful nudity with a boy's uniform of jeans and T-shirt, that same little girl, now forty-one, felt a lump rise in her throat for that glorious time so many years ago. A lump that reminded her of the size and sweetness of her Uncle Tommy's cock. And with that thought, the automatic accompaniment of more mental pictures-of Mike and their love, of all the bright, gay, courageous fun they used to have when "swapping" was so new, so adventuresome, and the strangest things happened among neighbors now growing middle-aged.
"Look here, young lady," Uncle Tom had said with mock severity, "you can't walk around with no clothes on. Especially if you're going to keep bleeding out of that sweet little hole of yours."
He had tumbled her on the bed and sucked her out again, very gently, but not so gently that she did not feel the deep thrill of pain in her lacerated young vagina, the sharp and exquisite pang of a twisting orgasm as her seared cuntal nerves rasped together under his suction.
She felt a great burst of happiness as she looked at young Tim Shelton. The look of strain and fear and anguish had left him. The close contact with her body, her deeply generous cunt, her warm and giving mind had helped him. Just that, very simply. And that was all she had wanted for him, that he accept her help. Oh, God! The pleasure of giving! And here and now, as it had been so long ago with her beloved uncle, the giving of help and love to one who needs it-herself, in that long ago time, and young Tim, here and now-resulted in an even richer gift to oneself.
Tom had tried to tell her that, but she never understood it until now. As she took one last suck at the young boy's delicious young cock, pushing her hand into the fragrant dark of his crotch before he zippered up, a tear came into her eye, and her well used cunt, feeling unusually warm and soft and happy, and still filled with the slippery mixture of young Timmie's sperm and the artistically faked dildo's juice, made a deep inner flutter of joy which almost stranded her, helpless, on the sheets.
"Remember," she said to the boy as she let him out the front door, "you come back tomorrow. Or tonight, if you get a hard-on. I want you to tell me more about that telephone man. I don't think I ever heard of that kind of plain-clothes job for a telephone service man." She put her hand on his arm. "Look at me," she demanded.
"The door may be latched," she said to him. "But you know my bedroom. Come around and speak my name. I'll come up through three layers of sleep for you, my dear. And you bring that girl, little Alice Bond. I have something in mind. I don't want you and she to have to worry about anything. You hear?"
The boy fell against her soft, warm breast and kissed her. He was as full of joy as a lark on the wing. He was as happy as she had been when she felt so secure on the love of her uncle, in the certainty that she would be fucked and sucked and that she, in turn, could fuck and suck. Learning a little, every day, from her uncle.