Chapter 7
There was a strange congestion of feelings in Lola Todd's mind. And in her body, as well. She held the glorious thought of having helped a boy who had been in mortal fear of life and people. In doing so, she had evoked the olden, golden dream of her Uncle Tommy, the laughing, vital man who had not been afraid to teach a young girl what she needed to know about herself, her cunt, and men's cocks, and how men needed to be treated.
She always felt good throughout all her cuntal system. Warm, just a bit itchy, an occasional sliding, slipping twist of vaginal muscle that made her stand still, trembling with joy at these signs of life's richness in her beloved fuck-channel.
But in this late summer afternoon, with the late fog creeping up Ocean Avenue from the mighty Pacif c, with no cover on her gorgeous body except Mike's old shirt, she could almost feel again the power of young Timmie Shelton's lusty, hard, boyish prick. So full of that clean, healthful sperm. So beautifully flushed with hot blood from his heart, so generous in its outpourings of his thick, cummy seed.
God, what a taste! What a savory, gut-churning flavor! The briny, acrid, tingling treat of stray drops of his sweet piss! The delicatessen richness of the little, cheesy lumps of semi-solid goop from under his foreskin, the slightly herring flavor left on it by her own cunt ooze.
It lay warmly and nutritiously in her tummy; she felt as if she could have swallowed a quart of it. And her own pussy juice, too, the humanly rich, heart warming flavors that a woman distilled far up her vaginal tunnel, from where life originates, in her womb.
As she thought of this, and of mingling her fuck juices with Timmie's as he fucked and shot into her, she had a flash of another face. And another body, too, with another cunt.
Not the sweet little blonde, Alice What'shername, nor that fat-tittied little bundle of fuck-candy that lived across the avenue from the Shelton's, Sheri Olson. No, it was a body from memory.
"This is my day for reminiscence," she giggled. "But baby, I've got some good things to remember! Not that everyone else feels the same way about it as I do!"
She had prepared a large casserole of scalloped potatoes, good smoked ham, and plenty of well aged cheddar cheese. As she thought about that delicious body from the past, the cooking aromas reminded her that her dish was ready. With a pair of heavy mitts on, she took the dish out of the oven. Its rich taste jogged her memory again.
".You girls aren't doing your stuff," her husband had cried out, clapping his hands like a cheer leader. "Come on, you amateurs, act like you liked it." And the scene was as bright and plain as if it had been yesterday, instead of thirteen or fourteen years ago. Six of them. Or was it eight? Herself and Mike, for sure, and that girl with the gorgeous muff of red blonde hair on her cunt, who was it? Had to be Marian Olson. Sheri's mom? Yeah, sure, they were neighbors then, and still were. But it had to be closer to fourteen years than thirteen. And certainly not fifteen. That chubby girl that she, Lola, was pared off with, the one whose belly was tight as a drum and six months large with the child she had so enjoyed this afternoon. Ellen Shelton, pregnant with Timmie. And hotter, tonight, than she had ever been. Even now, Lola could remember the excitement in her own breast, the leaking from her twat, as the stacked little brunette hugged her, whispering low, just for her to hear. Silken smooth, warm, swollen with pregnancy, with a drop of "witch's milk" on Ellen's hard, dark nipples every time they bounced and swung. "God, I'm hot," Ellen had said shiveringly. "Oh, I love to dig into your cunt! I just hope you don't drown in my juice tonight, baby!" And they had been the "Lesbian" pair declared winners in their games of sex and love.
"Too bad, the way Ellen and Larry went," Lola said aloud, putting the casserole back on top of the oven, where it would stay warm. "The rest of us just outlived the scandal. It ruined Ellen."
Ruined her for love play. Why should a word like "lesbian" be so frightening? Utterly foolish, completely immature, to let words become master instead of servant. "Every one of us sucked those guys," Lola mused, so many years later. "We must all have been cocksuckers, then."
The thought made her laugh. "Whatever I am, I like it," she hummed to herself.
She passed near the sink and saw, from the corner of her eye, a bit of movement at the back of her lot. It was after six, well after. The fog shrouded the sun. It was getting dark early. But she saw the top twigs of the hedge move. It made her think of young Timmie. Timmie, with his big, hard, manly, jism shooting penis, his big, manly balls. And it made her think that eating alone was a lonely scene.
No one could see her in her back yard. She wanted to surprise and please Timmie, so she shucked out of her old shirt. It was cool but not cold, and she had enough warmth inside her to protect her down to zero, at least.
She crossed her yard to her redwood fence, and was almost to it when she heard a young, light, excited voice. Not Timmie's. A girls's. And what it said stopped Lola in her tracks.
"Oh, Timmie, when you get through with her, will you suck me out next? Please, Timmie? OOOOOOH! That looks so hot! Oh, gracious! Suck her, Timmie!"
And over that voice, another, hoarse with passion, crying "OH, you wonderful sucker! Oh, Tim, SUCK ME! AAAAAAHHHHHH! OH, MY JESUS LOVER SUCKER SUCKER SUCY! OOOOOOHhhhhhhh! Ohhhhh! Oh!"
Lola was very careful going to the fence. She need not have worried. The three children were so absorbed in what was happening that they would not have noticed a California Condor lighting in one of the hedge trees.
She had not noticed earlier, but young Tim had some furniture. Of a sort. Two chairs, with flaking paint and shaky legs. An ancient kitchen table, with one leg shorter than the others, but propped on the ditch's sloping side so that it was more or less level. And all the furniture was in use.
A curvaceous, warmly tanned young girl with a great deal of black cunt hair for one so young lay belly up on the table. Her sweetly plump young thighs were spread wide, and raised and held by Tim's shoulders. The girl's calves were clamped on his back. He was eating her pussy, or had been, and, with her short skirt around her waist, and her T-shirt around her upper chest, she was naked except for two bands of fabric. Her big breasts, with big nipples empurpled by a powerful rush of hot blood, were clutched in the boy's hands. He's going to have to do me down there, Lola thought. In just exactly that position!
She thought of how her ass would look, turned up in the same manner, and knew it would look like the young girl's. Different color cunt hair, of course. But the important things, the slick, swollen, blood laced, slime-dripping lips, the redly wet and oozing hole, twitching in mute ecstasy, even strong legs clutching the boy deeper into the forming lips-they would be the same. Even the gut-scorching heat as her fun gun fired salvo after salvo would be the same.
Her eyes were fixed on the pair engaged in the cunt eating, one receiving, one giving, but both enjoying. But there was another movement, a sharp cry, and she moved her eyes just a little to see the third piece of furniture, one of the chairs, just released.
While Timmie had had one chair pulled up to the table to feast on the adult loveliness, slickness, and pouring pussy juice of the well stacked brunette, the angelic looking little blonde, Alice Bond, had been creating a Greek chorus of lust, as Lola had heard but had not fully understood. Now, she knew why.
The slender young girl, simply beautiful in her nudity, had been fucking herself with a long necked plastic bottle. Lola had seen one like it. The neck was formed by round ridges of soft plastic, the cap was rounded to look like a man's cock. As the neck descended to the shoulders of the bottle, it grew larger. Shoved into a pussy, it gave a marvelously thrilling feel, with its softly ridged surface. And, as Lola well knew, and every drug store salesperson was careful to point out, with an appropriately sly expression, the soft head could be punctured "so you can squeeze the stuff out when you want it." Thus the sales pitch ran. And "the stuff" was pale and slick and very similar to jism in appearance and consistency. Not in smell or taste. Mary Fallon's product was so superior-like day and night. Just as the expensive, double ended, heat buzzing dildo had it all over the plastic bottle.
But the bottle was better than nothing. Lola shuddered, looking at that slender, gloriously formed young body, with its small but classically sculpted breasts, thrashing in the dead leaves and loose dirt of the ditch bottom. The cream from the bottle was pumping out of the child's opened sex crack, out of the quivering, softly slicked hole, as some inner talent of the little girl worked and moved and squeezed, and the child grunted "UUUNNNHHHH! OH, TIM! UUUNNNHHHHHH! SUCK ME NOW! PLEASE! OHHHHH! OHHHHH!"
As for Lola, she was right back where she had been this afternoon, but with an exception. Her cunt, although warmed to the boiling point by the wildly orgiastic sight of the three children, was under control. She was ripe for more sex, throbbing with the luscious and lurid thoughts of cunt and cock, of fucking and sucking, but at least she could control it. Thanks to Tim. And to her own good sense, her sudden yearning to help the boy in his fears and anguish.
It was the dark girl who saw Lola. Opened her dark eyes, her face relaxing even as her plump, moistly heaving little belly also relaxed. In those first few seconds, Lola knew, everything would be hazy and out of focus. But the girl's face cleared, her eyes became sharp, and she turned rigid, her beautifully shaped legs, so mature for a young girl, straight up. Her mouth formed a dark red "O" of shock and surprise, of the deadly fear which strikes children helpless in the face of adult condemnation.
Tim felt it. The blonde girl, herself also blinded by passion, was slow in picking up on it. But Tim stood up, looked at Lola with perfect trust, and said: "Close your mouth, Sheri! Cool it, Alice! You both know Aunt Lola, and I can tell you, she's all right!"
It was the strangest and yet, somehow, the most rewarding surprise of Lola Todd's full and happy life. That these three kids, able to scramble over her fence carrying their little white panties, and so great that they could accept what Tim had said.
The dark little Olson girl, with her T-shirt properly down over her lovely young titties, and her skirt down to a few inches above her plump knees, was crying.
"I can't help it," she whispered, leaning against the older woman. "Oh, Aunt Lola, I'm still scared! Seeing you over that fence!"
And little Alice found it hard to talk, but she too, rubbed against the smooth, solid, sweetly warm flesh of the woman they had all known all their lives.
"Let's get inside quick, kids," Lola said huskily,, "before we all freeze our balls off!"
There was warmth and ease in Lola's comfortable kitchen. And all the kids had ravenous appetites.
"My mom had some kind of dumb health food soup," Alice said, with a dinty curl of her pink, full lips. "I couldn't eat it!"
"I couldn't eat," the dark little beauty declared. She looked down at her heaped up plate, unable to face Lola, and blushed. "I saw Timmie take off and I just left the table and went across the street and up the ditch. Good thing I did," and she grinned at the little blonde nymphet in perfect sistership. "Old Alice was just coming in from the other end of the hedge."
"Oh, go fuck yourself," the angelic looking child said, then flushed scarlet. "Excuse me, Aunt Lola," she gasped. "I just feel so free and easy here. So comfortable, like. I'm sorry I said such a word," and she leaned back, looking virtuous.
They all laughed, but Timmie said quietly: "I couldn't go home to eat. Tonight or ever. I'm in bad trouble."
It did not queer their party or permanently dampen their bright spirits. The girls were already high on excitement, walking on eggs because they could not get used to an adult accepting their wants and needs as legitimate, equal to her own, equal to their parents' requirements. And Lola watched and saw that Timmie, bless his brave little heart, was far from panicked.
After dinner and co-operation with the dishes, when they went into Lola's big bedroom, the first thing she said was: "As long as I'm naked, I don't see where it would hurt if we all were. And she said another thing, a strangely warm and understanding thing: "All of us are free to do or not do, to look or not look, to touch or not touch. Cross my heart!" and as she made a motion across her ripe, sexually plumped up, eagerly thrusting left breast, the well stacked little Sheri said sweetly: "No, Aunt Lola! Let me cross it for you!" and brought her smooth, warm young hand down across the full titty, at the hard and sweet-aching nipple.
"There!" she said, blushing slightly. "I've always wanted to feel a grown-up lady's boob, to see if it's as firm as mine. And now I've done it!" She shifted her lovely rump slightly. "It sort of got to me," she grinned. "Made my pussy wiggle inside!"
Lola held out her arms, her great heart renewing the warm blood in every vein as its rate picked up. "Come here," she said in a hoarse whisper. "Let me feel yours, my dear."
With a little cry of fulfillment, the young girl moved into the soft warmth of Lola's arms, turning her body so that the woman could feel her anywhere she wished. She moved and groaned as the soft, wise, compelling hands moved into her secret places, over her responsive breasts, deep into the dark patch of damp cunt hair at the base of her belly.
And, when Lola, her face sweet, her breath coming fast, held Sheri's sweet face between her hands, pressing the full red lips into the rosette of dripping flesh, the child met her with a hard, sucking, deep tonguing kiss, and the young girl's tongue was as strong and eager as Lola's. And Timmie and Alice, looking on, fell on them both, kissing, feeling, squeezing, prodding.
Lola found her right hand buried in the smoothness, the slick beauty of dark little Sheri's cunthole, her mouth avidly sucking the out thrust titty of slender Alice, who was breathlessly holding the sweet morsel of tit-flesh to the older woman's lips. Her young face was taut with need, but when Timmie rooted under her, between her sweetly formed thighs, and stuck his tongue deep between the child's delicately oozing cunt lips, she raised her split ass for him, leaning to hold on to Lola's shoulders, and choked out: "Oh, golly, Timmie! Oh, kiss me, Aunt Lola! Suck me, Timmie! OHHHHH! I'M CUMMING! SO GOOD! SOOOOO GOOOOD! Oh, let me cum! OH! OH! OH! AAAIHEEEEEE!"
If Lola had not lived through the experiences that brightened her life, none of this could ever have happened. For a woman of forty-one to insert herself without friction into the sex acts of a group of children is almost impossible. But her uncle had come into her life at a time when her sexual curiosity was at its height. By the most unbelievable good luck, she had mutely cried out for help and understanding by her impulsive sucking of his cock, truly a courageous act for such a young girl. And he had been the kind of man to understand. Not at first. His flash reaction had leaned toward selfishness. It was her love that reached him, changed him, and, through some alchemy, made them right and good for each other.
Equally impulsive now, and undoubtedly, equally perceptive, Lola had sensed the need of all these three kids, their need for acceptance, their hunger to have grown up understanding.
Plus, of course, the lightning hunger that had seared through Lola for the sweetness, the juiciness, of a ripe and ready cunt. And she had seen, from the wildness of these young ones in that ditch, that Alice and Sheri were both ripe and ready.
"Oh, my dear," she whispered brokenly, holding the slight but beautifully modeled body of the little blonde, "kiss Aunt Lola again. Give me your tongue. Ahhhhh! And she sucked in the pink and pointed tongue of the little kid, feeling the warm little body go tense with a grown-up kind of excitement, and she put one warm hand into the split between the child's legs, letting her fingers slip in the delicately scented, crystal clear pussy juice that was dripping steadily from the youngster's sweet little cunt.
And she felt Tim's eager mouth, licking her fingers as he, too, dived into the lightly haired, puffy lipped little sex notch, his nose rooting into the flowing lips, his mouth busy.
Lola had not asked him why he was in trouble. But the fact that he was kept turning over in the back of her mind. It had something to do with Ellen. Of that, she felt sure. And it may have been this random thought of the cuddly, hot, fucky little woman with the big breasts and the sweetly pulsing cunt that had made all this possible.
She had moved her strong, fully matured body so that the small blonde could nestle against her breasts while the darkly voluptuous Sheri could have free access to her bottom and its treasures. There was hardly a minute when some deeply moving feel of cum-pleasure wasn't gently burning her oozing, happy, muscle-moving vagina. But she had time to notice that Timmie, seemingly on the outside of their triangle, was not left out.
She knew that, as he was sucking the big breasted Olson kid, he had a big hard-on. As had happened with her, earlier, he had not shot that load. In fact, he still had the hard-on. It had never left him, only diminishing while the four ate dinner.
In a moment when she was kissing the strong flavors of her cunt off the open lips of Sheri, she reached a hand to Tim's crotch to feel his cock. It was truly hard, trembling in its fullness, and, when she squeezed it, he gave a convulsive leap.
She suddenly turned and rose to her knees and elbows between the lovely thighs of the smaller girl. With strong and loving fingers, she parted the little blonde pussy. "This is the last time around, kids," she said gaily. "Lift it up, baby! Give me your cunt!"
She twisted her strong tongue deep into Alice, rimming the smooth, slick ring of muscles at the child's cuntal opening. Just as Uncle Timmy had done with her, so many years before.
Also, as Uncle Tommy had shown her, on her own sensitive little fucking apparatus, she opened her mouth big and slick, and plastered it right over the young girl's wildly jerking clit.
There is always love and satisfaction in making a loved one cum. Next to getting off, ourselves, it is the hottest experience in the art of fuck-and-suck.
And so, when the small, strong body of the hot little blonde came thrusting, butt first, at her hungry lips, already reeking with the sweetness of the little kid's cunt juice, Lola felt the churn of a coming storm of orgasm deep in her own bowels.
In silence, she made her plea, mentally begging the dark little girl with the big-lady's body to pick up on her desire: Oh, Sheri baby, please, please, do something!
She was in tune with all of them. It was because of her own learning with her uncle that all this could happen, that she had this ripe, sweetly juvenile cunt sucked up so fiercely in her lips. And her mind reached theirs. Eerily, hotly, the invitation flared in young Sheri's mind. Those fat cunt flaps with their close-curled yellow hair, with the wet gleam of coral pink inner lips poking their way out as the big, smooth ass of the older woman spread before her. She was as hot as Lola, and to her, at the moment, nothing was more stimulating than that lovely, open, juice spilling, slowly throbbing cunt. She pulled the beautiful buttocks apart with all her strength, and sank her mouth into the widely distended cunt. The flow of juice, so strikingly similar in flavor to her own-or to Alice's, which she knew full well-was pure, slick, wholesome delight. And the super-smooth lips, made slick by this flow of cum goo, were sweet to her own tongue, her loving mouth.
It was Timmie who, in his aroused frenzy, filled their hottest dream with the reality of his body.
He had rolled around to watch, and the softly voluptuous spread of the dark young girl's generously styled ass, with her fat and black haired pussy as exciting to him as Lola's had been to the girl. When he saw it, so accessible, he did an instinctively loving act-on his knees, pressed so close to her as and her round, strong thighs, he simply held her cunt hole open and fucked into it with all his might.
He could feel it hit something hard and slick inside her, up her twat. Hadn't Aunt Lola mentioned that? A womb? Did such a young kid have a womb? And then he realized how silly he was, for he knew that both Alice and Sheri were old enough to have periods, to have babies, to fuck and be fucked, and ditto sucking. Her juice ran down his balls, pumped out of her extremely tight snatch as he-shot his cock deep into her dark, slickly loving interior.
Again and again, he banged his cockhead against that hard, slick business in Sheri's pussy. And each time, she grunted, pushed back at him, and sucked deeper, more fiercely, on the pulsing cunt of the blonde woman. It was so juicy, so warm, and the sweet, clear flow was filling her with heat that exploded around Timmie's cock. It was the first time anything alive-except her or some friend's fingers-had ever been in the darkly oozing, crazy-nerved, pulsating clasp of her cunt. She was scared to death, but only for a second.
Then she opened her mouth and screamed, as best she could. But her mouth was full of the slippery softness, the tasty fullness, of the older woman's pussy. Her vibrating but muffled scream brought a violent cum, which had been hanging on a hair trigger, from Lola's happy pussy. And they collapsed on the bed, all of them, and with Sheri releasing Lola's buttocks to hold her hands on her own clit, helping to intensify the blaze of fuck joy from Timmie's spurting cock. But she had to do one thing.
As they fell, it was only natural that they separated, however briefly. Timmie, stricken with the stunning effects of a big cum, was uncunted, But he got a bonus.
The young girl, on fire with all the loveliness of which she was a part, had felt two big jets of Tim's hot sperm shoot into her happily, beautifully stretched vagina, spraying wet and slick around the dark mouth of her young uterus.
She turned as Lola fell away from her, as Tim fell on his side, and her sweet young mouth, its lips glazed and shiny with the foaming slobber from Lola's cunt, opened joyfully to take in the boy's spurting dick. As she did it, the next blast of boiling seed hit the back of her throat, filling her mouth with the incredible richness of the young lad's pure portein mixture. The force of the jet, at this point blank range, stung her throat, and some of it was forced up into her nose, its raunchy beauty engaging at least three of her senses. And, as she went down on the spraying cock with all her might, her firm young breasts smashed flat against Tim's muscular legs, giving her a heart filling blend of pain and delight.
And Tim, having had his first cum up a young girl's cunt fore-shortened, could look down and see the job finished by the red, spit slicked lips and tongue of the bounteously stacked girl he had known all his life.
There was a great deal of kissing, and fondling, the slippery and hot exchange of warm flavors from the three deeply pleased, freely flowing vaginas. Even new kisses on the rosy, foam flecked lips of each of them, and friendly, shyly smiling girls handled the young boy's wilting cock with new appreciation and new respect.
It even smells like cunt, Lola thought happily. It's like Uncle Tommy's room used to be. On those marvelous, loving afternoons when I was a kid.
The thought of Tom Storick, never far from her whenever the warm touch of sex was laid on her brain, her flesh, her memory, made her even warmer in her assurances of continued friendship and support for the three kids.
Both the girls, once more clothed, embraced her with the heat of youthful acceptance. I was this way with Tommy. He did so much for my mental and emotional growth.
"I love you, too," she said softly, tears in her voice, as each of the girls, in turn, kissed her warmly, their slick, hard tongues boldly probing into the sweetness of her mouth. "You're the most, too! You sweet things!"
She let them out the front.
"Timmie can sneak back through his ditch," she assured them. "It's better for you two to go along without him."
And, as she closed the door quietly behind them, she turned to the boy and held out her arms.
"You don't have anything to worry about, baby," she said. "Your Aunt Lola's going to take care of everything!"
And in her heart, she felt that this was true. She held the boy to her, her mind recalling in detail the way in which his cock had responded to the sweetness of young Sheri's mouth. Just think! Sheri was eleven and so was Alice. I was nine when it all began, he thought, fiercely pleased with the brilliant pictures she saw in her mind.