Chapter 4
Julie sighed contentedly as the front door closed with a resolute, guarding click. She found it hard to believe that only last night she had arrived in this bustling, neon-lit city of hard-faced strangers.
Now she was sitting in a kitchen, surrounded by chromium-plated gadgets that they could never afford back home, despite years of scrimping and saving from her father's miserable factory pay checks. And to think that she had half believed that crap they handed her about virtue and hard work. Brother, the bullshit they put into a kid's head! But she'd had a hot cock in her. She was beginning to learn about life the hard way-the hard, hot cock way. And she had learned more in one night than she would have learned in years in Iowa.
She had learned to know the feeling of domination that a pounding prick leaves behind. In one passionate, sperm-bathed night, she had discovered the supplicant prostration that lies dormant inside every woman. She had found that she could gloat over that tremendous sense of power which surged through her as she felt Lennie's huge penis explode in her mouth against her flickering tongue. But most of all, she had learned to know the satisfaction of coming alone and literally naked into a situation, yet being able to control it and gain from it.
She thought she'd give it a whirl with Lennie for a while, then maybe go on to school, or meet some of the interesting people, who led such fascinating lives in the big city. She had read about them in the magazines. There were writers, college students, actors and hippies who did their own thing in defiance of stupid, outworn standards. She remembered seeing them last night as Lennie drove her down Sunset Strip on their way to the motel. The sidewalk had overflowed with the mass of jostling, purposeful people, all with that elusive, assured look of successfully doing their own thing. She wanted to go down there to speak to these people, to find out where it was at and to get directions to the swinging, now, center of total experience.
But first of all, she decided to do the dishes and tidy up a little. She shuddered as she thought of what the bedroom would be like after their nightlong tussle.
"If the sheets are like my hair, they'll be stiff as cardboard. Shouldn't be though; I managed to swallow most of it!"
Carrying the dishes to the sink, she murmured, "I'd better check in the bathroom cabinet and see whether Lennie has any shampoo. Then maybe see how much food is in the fridge as well."
Despite Lennie's speculation, she doubted whether she could keep her strength up on a diet of straight sperm.
Humming to herself, she scraped the remaining food off the breakfast plates and down the garbage disposal. It was easy; no more having to carry smelly trash cans out to the back of a fly infested house in her home town.
Reaching across the sink, she found the garbage disposal switch nestled among a battery of electric mixers, toasters and juicers. The low hum of the garbage disposal unit accompanied her as she worked around the kitchen. Taking the dishes out of the dishwasher, she carefully stacked them away in the cupboard.
Approvingly, she looked around her. Everything was neat. One day she hoped to have a kitchen like this. She'd really cook in a place like this. Put up some nice curtains and maybe a shelf over there by the electric range for cooking books. Perhaps she could forget this culture jag and find some nice guy, preferably with a few bucks, and settle down somewhere.
Smoothing the nylon shirt down around her curved hips, she thought she'd make a good wife for some guy. She was good-looking. She could cook, and she was certainly finding her way about in bed.
As she went about straightening up the little place, a warm tingle ran through her stomach as she thought about marriage. She'd like the responsibility of acceptance and looking after a home and a man of her own.
AND THEN SHE WOULD GET LAID. A hot stiff prick would probe into the moist depths of her vagina. Hard and masculine, it would satisfy her beyond the puny explorations of fingers when she inserted them into her slick, longing slit. Blow jobs and finger fucking were all right in their way ...
She decided to wait until she had learned all there was to know from Lennie; then find a guy who could teach her more. She wanted someone who could tell her about art, philosophy, the theater, books, everything. And most of all, she wanted a guy who had a good hard prick to drive the lessons home with.
She stood dreaming in the center of the room, surrendering herself to the thought of what her new life was going to be like.
The distant roar of the traffic brought her back to reality. She was here; here in Los Angeles. And this wasn't the time or the place for daydreaming. She had to get the finger out of her ass and get cracking.
Running her hands through her come-matted hair, she walked into the bathroom. Filling the porcelain hand basin with water, she rummaged through the bathroom cabinet. Her luck was in. On the top shelf there was a bottle of hair shampoo.
Slipping off her nylon shirt, she plunged her head into the basin of hot water. Her silky blonde hair spread out, filling the basin, and floating like a trailing blonde sea plant in the white shell of the basin.
Immersing her head further into the water, her bare breasts pressed against the cold rim of the china basin, squashing them tight against her chest. Withdrawing her head, she rubbed the foaming shampoo into her hair, massaging the scalp with her fingers.
Her naked tits swayed with her exertions and brushed against the cold rim of the bowl. With every chilling touch, the pink buds of her nipples slowly hardened to a puckering point. Changing color, they went from pink through red to a deep chocolate brown.
Julie caught sight of herself in the mirror.
"Just look at that," she muttered. "Ninety-year-old nipples." Twitching them with her finger, she pulled them back into shape. "Must give them another treatment with Dr. Lennie's anti-wrinkle lotion tonight. I'm getting old before my time."
From the kitchen, came the sharp ring of an electric bell. Piling her shampoo-lathered hair on top of her head, Julie rushed into the kitchen to investigate. Her slim, naked body dripped with water as she crossed the sunlit living room.
All was quiet in the kitchen as she padded about checking the various electric appliances. The water ran down her legs, leaving a wet imprint of her feet on the tiled floor.
"Goddamn it, I'm imagining things, " she muttered angrily as she walked by the living room window to the bathroom.
A tapping noise came to her from the glass.
Bathed in a shaft of sunlight, she turned to face the noise. A man's face beamed at her through the glass. His eyes traveled down the length of her nakedly exposed body like a warm caress.
Nodding and smiling again, he pointed at the door. "Open up, lady. I'm from the Water & Power Company."
Covering her tits with both hands, Julie rushed into the bathroom for the nylon shirt she had been wearing. Buttoning it up carefully, she opened the door.
"Sorry if I startled you, lady. I've got to check on a line drop. Can I come in?"
Standing aside, Julie felt the hard manliness of him as he brushed passed her.
"Fuses are in the kitchen, aren't they?" He looked at her white-lathered hair piled up on her head. "Say, don't let me stop you. You look as if you're busy."
Thankfully, Julie turned to leave. Already she was conscious of his eyes seeking out the roundness of her body through the thin, transparent nylon shirt. The water from her hair had run down her shoulders. One large area by her left breast was clinging to her flesh, molding the thrusting outline of her boob and revealing the red button of her hard nipple.
She could feel his eye pressing on it like a poking finger. Fighting back her feeling of discomfort, she thought, "What the hell, I'm a grown woman now. This guy is probably married and used to seeing his wife with her hair like this."
Turning to the bathroom, she smiled over her shoulder at him.
"Find your own way about. I'm going to finish my hair. Shout real loud if you want anything. I'll have the water running."
Pushing the door to with her foot, she slipped off the shirt and ran some water into the basin to rinse the drying soap out of her hair.
She laughed to herself as she ran the water through her hair, thinking how easy it is to control a situation. All she needed was the maturity and confidence to treat people in the right way. Letting them see that she was a person in her own right; they usually responded along the lines she laid down. Wrapping the towel around her head, she carried her thoughts further. Could she really control a situation? Could she actually make someone do as she wished, and not as they did?
This guy had seen her standing naked as he looked through the living room window. After having an eyeful of her body, he'd have a hard-on that he'd want to bury in her cunt. It would be a battle of wits to see if she could avoid it. If things got out of hand, she could always blow him and see if she was as good as Lennie said she was at a head job. She should test her ability.
As she stood rubbing her hair, she became conscious of someone's deep, labored breathing coming from the door behind her. Humming to herself as if she had not heard it, she casually adjusted the mirror on the cabinet door until it reflected the bathroom behind her. Sure enough, framed in the one-inch crack of the partially closed door, one beady eye stared resolutely at the split of her rounded ass.
Right, she thought, I'll give this guy something to look at.
Taking a cloth, she bent over the bath and started rubbing away at the greasy ring left after Lennie and she had stepped out of the water earlier.
Stooping over as she was, the raised lips of her cunt peeled back slightly to expose the petal-like folds of her cunt. Still singing, as if unaware of him she idly put her hand behind. With one finger, she delicately raised the outer lip with its soft covering of silky golden fuzz. Sliding her finger in further, she massaged the entrance to her tight vaginal opening as if it were itchy.
A tingle of excitement traveled down her thighs as she heard the sharp intake of his breath and felt his eyes following her finger as it traced a passage among the convolutions of her cunt.
"Give him a couple of minutes of this," she thought, "and he'll be jumping up and down like a chimpanzee."
Straightening up for a moment, she glanced into cabinet mirror. Clearly visible through the crack, the man was down on his knees. His eyes licked over her body as his hands jerked along the length of a huge twelve-inch circumcised staff. The song died away in Julie's throat as she watched in amazement. Never before in her young life had she seen anything like this. She had thought Lennie's tool was big, but this beat it by a good four inches. On top of that, Lennie had a foreskin that she had to peel back before she could start licking at the rich red meat of his knob. This staff, though, was marvelous. It was all prick, every inch of the way. Without any superfluous flesh to get in the way, nothing could impede the action.
A shudder ran up Julie's back as she wondered what a rod that size would feel like slipping into her twat. The challenge of trying to get her mouth around it boggled her imagination.
Still with her back towards him she reached for the nylon shirt and called out to him as she slipped it on over her shoulders.
"Are you still about? Anything you want?" She chuckled to herself as she heard the frantic rush of his feet back to the kitchen before he replied.
"No, ma'am. I've got everything in hand."
Julie stifled a laugh and said to herself, I'll say he has. I saw him with it, and I'll have hold of it myself in a minute or two.
Scooping up a handful of water from under the running tap, she patted it onto the nylon covering her breasts. Soaking into a rapidly increasing circle, the damp nylon became crystal clear as it clung to the shape of her knockers.
Rubbing her nipples a little to arouse them into firm erection, Julie stepped out through the bathroom door.
"Hi there. How are you doing?"
The man's back was toward her as he frantically tried to thrust his huge hairy dong into his tight jeans and pull up the zipper.
"Finished in a moment, lady. Just a minute."
Julie smiled innocently at him as if she was unaware of what he was doing. Brushing her long, wet hair behind her so as not to conceal the front of her tit-revealing shirt, she waited for him to turn around.
"There's no rush. Have you time for a cup of coffee before you go?"
Turning around, the man nodded his head. As he did so, his eyes caught sight of her tits through her soaking wet shirt. The roseate flesh of her protruding nipples shone through the wet fabric like delicate hothouse flowers under glass.
He moistened his lips automatically at the sight of such tasty morsels. Pulling a chair from under the table, he sat down weakly.
Just look at those mother's, he thought to himself. I'll sure have something to tell the boys in the bar tonight!
Normally he made up stories to fulfill the role that his job had created. Most of the fellows he knew were stuck in jobs between four walls. Their only feminine company for eight hours a day was the unlikely drawings on shithouse walls. But his job took him into the homes of all kinds of women -bored housewives, frustrated spinsters-who, in the expectations of his friends, were all down on their knees, pleading with him to drag them off to bed. Obligingly, he had furthered the myth, placing himself in the title role of stories he read in the pulp sex magazines.
Now, at last, it was happening to him and he was doubtful if he could go through with it. Talking about it was one thing, but he didn't know how the hell to go about it now that he'd got a young chick in front of him who looked as if she didn't know her tits were showing through her shirt. But he was wondering what would happen if he did get her into the hay and couldn't get a hard-on. He thought of the embarrassment of slopping his prick around the outside of her cunt like a handful of dead fish. It would be enough to traumatize a man for the rest of his life.
Julie's voice came to him again through his thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders like a man about to meet his fate at the hands of a firing squad.
His first words came in a falsetto. "Pardon, lady." He cleared his throat and tried again in a deeper, more masculine key. "I've got things on my mind. I didn't hear you."
Julie leaned over him. Holding the coffee jug in her hand, her shirt had fallen open and one delicious pink-tipped tit brushed his ear playfully.
"I said would you like a cup of coffee." She shook her head impatiently. She was beginning to wonder what kind of a moron she had picked to try her wits on. The thought raced through her mind that while nature had certainly endowed this man with a king-size dick, there must not have been much leftover when his brains were being formed.
But goaded beyond endurance by the tit that was tickling his ear, he made an. awkward grab for it as a man would for an irritating fly.
His bent arm swept across the table, sending the scalding cup of coffee crashing into his lap. His agonizing cry ripped through the kitchen as he leaped to his feet. Clutching at his jeans, he tried to pull the scalding, saturated material from his tender aching balls.
Julie's concern was belied by the sound of glee as she spoke over his cries of pain.
"Take 'em off. Take 'em off before it soaks through and ruins you."
The thought of that beautiful, massive chopper being incapacitated horrified her. Kneeling down, she suited her actions to her words and began to undo his thick masculine-looking leather belt, With a quick pull, she loosened the buckle and his trousers fell around his knees.
"Your jockey shorts. Look at them. They're soaked right through! Take them off this minute."
Hooking her fingers into the elastic top, she soon had them around his ankles with his trousers.
"Lift your feet out of them while I put them up to dry," she commanded. The emergency had temporarily driven all thoughts of her original intention out of her mind.
As she spoke, she raised her head to see what damage had been done to his manhood. Inches away from her inexperienced eyes dangled the hugest hairy chopper that she had ever imagined possible.
The purplish-red tip stood out in sharp contrast to the blue-veined white flesh of the rest of his coffee-soaked prong. Tentatively, she touched the head with a questioning finger.
Ý"Is it always this color?" Julie asked solicitously.
The man pulled his sweat shirt up and looked at his tool.
"Only when I dip it in scalding coffee," he replied.
Julie made a clucking noise with her tongue.
"Better put something on to soothe it," she advised. "It looks red raw." She thought for a moment "I know. Butter is good for burns. There's max on the table beside you. Pass it over."
Her fingers made sharp tracks along the surface of the butter as she gouged it into her hands.
"Let me know if I hurt you," she said softly as she tenderly smeared the end of his rapidly hardening dick. "There, how does that feel?"
A low moan came from the man as if he were still in pain.
"Could you sort of rub it in slowly with an up and down movement?" he begged.
Unable to resist the suffering man's plea, Julie closed her fingers around his dong and let the muscled length of it slide through her buttered hands.
"Ohhhhh," he shuddered. "That feels ... feels better. Work more on the red part at the top. That's where it needs it."
Obligingly, Julie slipped her soft hand back along his staff and clutching the base firmly with her one hand, she rubbed the butter onto the hugely swollen head with the other.
By now the monstrous dong had shuddered into its full awesome length and Julie was having difficulty controlling its convulsions in her slippery, buttery hands.
Wrapping both her hands around his prick, as if it were some fleshy baseball bat, she let it snake through the circle of her hands. The upper hand, with its enclosed finger and thumb, opened and shut over the proud red head on every sweep. The ridge of the circumcised knob fascinated her as it slipped through her greasy grasp.
As it passed over her hands, she could feel it| sliding into place among the separations of her fingers. It was a groovy feeling, like running her hand along the spine of some strange and terrifying animal.
As she squeezed the oily member in a milking motion, a crystal clear drop of emission oozed from it and glistened on the butter-coated red flesh.
Cooing with delight, Julie pointed her tongue and bent her head forward. Dipping the end of her dainty tongue into it, she withdrew his fluid into her mouth. The lubricating juice stretched in a long silvery strand from his dong and glistened on the tip of her pointed tongue.
"Oh, isn't it beautiful?" There was ecstasy in Julie's voice as she spoke.
His voice fell on the back of her head as she bent over to lick more of the secretion from his dripping tool.
"You like the taste of that stuff?"
"Yes," Julie replied, still licking. "It's a bit battery, though."
Why don't you put some jam on it then?" was the helpful reply from above her.
He passed down a jar from the breakfast table, unscrewing the lid as he handed it to her.
Holding the jar upside down, Julie tried to stick 'las bulging prick into its neck. "It won't fit," she wailed.
"Try smearing it on with a spoon," his voice was inpatient with frustration.
Beaching up with her free hand, Julie fumbled the table above her. "For Christ sake, here." He pushed one toward her.
Digging deeply into the jar, Julie smeared a heaping spoonful on the top of his dong like an ice sundae.
Don't be chicken-shit about it," he demanded, some more on. Have a feast." Scooping the rich strawberry preserve out of the Julie spread it along the length of his prick. The passionate heat of his erection slowly melted the jam, making it run in streaks that matted into his thick black pubic hair.
Julie ran her tongue along the jam-daubed length of his throbbing muscle.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, tastes yummy," she said, licking her sticky lips contentedly, Settling down to a mid-morning snack like she had never had before, Julie started at the hairy base and slowly worked her way up to the fleshy, sensitive head. Her little white teeth nibbled at the jam-soaked skin while she tenderly went into every sweet fold of tissue. With a happy sigh, she occasionally paused to allow her tongue to concentrate at some particularly juicy morsel.
Her breath came through her nostrils in short, rapid snorts of pure delight. The groans of pleasure that came from this guy demonstrated the efficacy of her ministrations upon his erect and tender member. She knew that if his reaction was enthusiastic while she was nibbling on the white meat, his response would be convulsive as she started on the red meat.
He seized her head in both of his huge work-hardened hands. Holding her head in a vise-like grip, he forced her to concentrate on the nerve endings at the tender tip of his tool.
Gauging her effort by his moans of pleasure, her tongue slid over the underside while her lips pouted and pulled, fastening themselves around the fascinating ridge where his velvety head joined the hard muscle of his staff.
Being experienced in her art after much practice with Lennie, she recognized the convulsive twitching that shot through his trembling body as heralding his explosive release.
She was able to prepare herself for the flood of viscous creamy semen as it flooded into her waiting, hungry mouth. The sweetness of the jam gave piquancy to the tangy taste of his semen. The oiliness of the lubricating butter made the jism slipped down her throat with ease; rather like swallowing a fresh oyster.
Julie patted his now limp dong with a piece of paper toweling and looked up at him questioningly.
"How does it feel now, mister?"
His face split into a grin of utter completion.
"You don't get treatment like that at the Kaiser. Knew a guy that got a snake bite on his dong while out hunting."
Julie stood up. "What happened to him?" Julie asked.
"He died," the guy said. "His pal wouldn't suck out the poison. Next time I go hunting, I'm taking a chick like you along for insurance. There's lots of snakes in California."
He struggled into his pants and made for the "Got to get a move on. I'm behindhand already, Many more customers like you and I'll be on over-time."
The door shut behind him, and Julie was left to consider what she had got out of that situation. The encounter hadn't quite gone along the lines that she had intended, but she had discovered that she could arise to an emergency when it occurred. The way she had slapped butter on his scalding prick was almost professional. She had kept her head yet given head, too. She had managed to turn what would have been a very painful accident for the poor man, into one that seemed to make him forget it had ever happened. She had enjoyed it, too. Apart from the feeling of doing the right thing at the right time, she had learned that there was practically no end to the variations she could give to a blow job.
And she remembered, smacking her still sticky lips, that the jam on his dick tasted out of this world. She especially liked the way his salty climax gushed over her sweetened taste buds. One of these days she was going to have someone slip a cock of that length into her. Then she would know how it feels to have a hot prick bathing the neck of her cunt with its flow of jism.
But right now, she felt tired. Yawning, she searched through the place for something to read. On one of the shelves of the Hollywood-styled head board, she found a little store of paperbacks. Selecting one by its lurid, descriptive cover, she lay back on the bed to read.
As she turned the pages, she became fascinated by the story.
Author Kipp Cameron told of his many years in motion pictures and how many of the stars, that she knew by name, had reached the top of their profession, not by talent, but by doing the same thing that she had been doing free since she had arrived in Los Angeles. As Kipp said, "It's not what you know in this game. It's who you blow."
"Maybe," Julie thought idly, "I should quit this idea of a meaningful cultural experience and start blowing directors instead."
Her thoughts became sluggish as sleep overcame her. Her dreaming mind, free of conscious restrictions, ran riot as she tossed on the bed.
Her sleep became peopled with fantasized situations. Flooding into her brain, her name appeared in a million flashing lights over a theater. Then disintegrating, it burst into a exploding climax of sperms. Each light bulb became sperm with a huge thrashing tail, that wriggled its way into her open mouth, choking her. Despite her fear, she had to keep her mouth open, because if she bit down on one of the glass-headed sperm, it would shattered and her fame would disappear forever with the broken tinkling shards of glass.
Scene after tortured scene tumbled through her sleeping mind.
In another dream, she was lying on a fantastic gilded bed, surrounded by luxury. An actor dressed like a sultan, held a huge two-foot penis [in front of him. In her dream, she knew that she had to have this enormous cock inside her or she would die. The sultan let her lick it and fondle it. Then with infuriating slowness, he began to rub it along her eager slit. It probed among the sensitive vulva and prodded her swollen clit until she was crazy with desire. Then, just as he was going to slip the whole satisfying length of it inside her, the director would shout, "Cut!" Then another actor, wearing a black mask, led the sultan over to a corner of the set, which was rigged up like a dungeon. Putting the head of the sultan's prick on a scooped out chopping block, the man with the mask looked over to the director again the director, wreathed in smoke from a cigar he was sucking, nodded his head and shouted, "Cut!" And they'd chop off the head of the sultan's penis with a huge axe. She was just about to make it with the tenth sultan when the sound of voices brought her out of her sleep.
Opening her sleep-glued eyes with an effort, she recognized Lennie standing at the foot of the bed. "Lennie, baby," she crowed with delight. "You're just in time, fuck me." Reaching underneath her, she grabbed both of her legs by the ankles and pulled them up to her head. Her face beamed through the frame of her calves while her ripe young cunt winked up at Lennie invitingly. The love juice from the stimulation of her dreams flowed moistly over the pink-petaled dish that she offered him. Her voice was harsh with desire as she spoke. "Fuck me, it's all yours." Lennie ran his fingers under his collar.
"Well, not just now, honey. We've got company.
Lennie nodded across the room to where a well-built man was watching the proceedings with interest.
His eyes were glued on Julie's inviting slit as he spoke hoarsely.
"Is she always like this when she wakes up?"
"No," Lennie shook his head. "But she's been shut up all day and probably got lonely."
The visitor strode over to the bed and stood there, looking down at Julie.
"Well, honey, you're not going to be lonesome for tonight at least. I'm Richard Hardy. You can call me Dick."
Julie recovered from the surprise and put her legs down.
"Well, hello. I'm Julie Baldwin. If the dreams I've been having are anything to go on, you can call me 'frustrated'."
Dick's eyes traveled over her as she lay on the bed. "We'll work on that, kid. We'll work on that real soon."
Sitting down on the bed beside her, he ran his hand over her boobs. "You know, there's one thing that I like, and that's a willing chick."
Realizing that in the confusion of wakening, she had forgotten that she had no clothes on, Julie pulled a sheet up over her exposed body as Lennie sat down on the other side of the bed.
"Remember us talking about shoes the other night," Lennie said. "Well, Dick, here, is in shoes and he thought maybe you two could do a little trading."
Julie lay back in the bed and looked at the shoe salesman appreciatively. If appearances were anything to go by, this was where the expression! "horse trading" must have come from. Dick was probably hung like a stallion. But how could she get to business? She could hardly start blowing him with Lennie sitting on the bed criticizing her performance like a judge at a dog show.
As if reading her thoughts, Lennie spoke across the bed to his friend.
"There's one or two items she still owes me for as well. Who's going first?"
Julie lay on the bed listening to their exchanges. Her head turned from side to side as each spoke.
Feeling restless and tired of the inactive role she was playing, she suggested, "Why don't you fellows strip off and get into bed? You can continue the discussion in comfort then." In no time at all, they began peeling off their clothes as Julie watched in eager anticipation of what was to come.
She had seen Lennie before. His sagging middle-aged outline was a dead loss compared to Dick -the gorgeous specimen Lennie had brought home with him.
Turning on her side, she concentrated on Dick as he kicked off his shoes impatiently. He took off his League jacket and carefully hung it over the hack of a chair. With maddening precision, he began to unbutton his shirt. As Julie watched, the matted hair from his chest began to poke its way out of the shirt opening. She wanted to reach out and touch his masculinity with her soft hands. Without a doubt, this was the hairiest ape of a man that Julie had ever seen.
Crossing an arm in front of him, he grasped the collar and slipped the shirt off one shoulder. The muscular development of his broad shoulders drew a cry of astonishment from the watching girl. Sensing her approval, Dick smiled at her proudly. "I used to play football," he announced proudly. "I'm a little out of condition now, but I can still go full time in bed." Peeling off his shirt, Dick turned his back toward her. "Get a load of this. How's that for muscular development?"
As he spoke, he tensed his arms, causing the muscles to ripple across his broad back.
"Touch 'em. Feel 'em," he invited. "I'm as hard as nails."
Kneeling up on the bed, Julie placed her hand on his broad back. The animal warmth of him soaked through her palm, sending little shivers of desire through her longing body.
As he flexed his muscles under her touch, Julie had the impression that he held frightening power under his restraining flesh. The muscles bulged and rippled, distorting the covering skin, like some powerful beast with an uncontrollably vibrant life of its own. Her eyes riveted on this fascinating display of beefcake as she watched his covering hairs wave like outstretched feelers demanding her soft flesh.
Turning around to face her, he locked his fingers together under his abdomen, making a U of his arms.
"Watch this now," he said. "You've never seen muscles like these before."
Tensing and relaxing his clenched fingers, the tension ran up his bulging arms and reached the chest muscles. As Julie watched, the cords of his pectorals bulged into life, lifting and contracting! in response to his command. The flesh of his undeveloped masculine tits jumped and trembled in sympathy.
The bed squeaked as Julie jumped up and down with excitement.
"Oh, teach me to do that! I really dig it and it's wasted on you. Think what I could do with my boobies!"
Dick beamed on her approvingly.
"Stand up and I'll show you."
Julie stood upright on the carpet. With her hands over her head, she started to jump up and down. "Look at my knockers. Watch 'em bounce!" Dick shook his head.
"That's kid's stuff. Here, hold still a minute." Taking a nipple firmly between the finger and thumb of each of his hands, he lifted her jutting breasts apart until the nipples were pointing up toward her shoulders.
"When I let go," he instructed her, "then you start bobbing them up and down. Right NOW."
Julie let her heels fall to the floor with a jar. Then she rose quickly up on her toes. As she repeated the motion, she looked down at her bouncing boobies that were gyrating on her chest. To her delight, instead of the previous up and down movement, they were now rotating in perfect circles in apposite directions. A glorious slapping sound, as if in applause, came when they met together in the renter of her chest. "That," Dick assured her, "is something they don't teach you in the boondocks. You'll be great at the PTA fund-raising projects when you get back home."
Laughing, Julie quit her bouncing and stood facing Dick with her hands on her hips.
"Oh ... The things you learn when you left home," she said. "It sure beats going to college."
Admittedly, this latest feat wasn't very mind-blowing, but it would help to pass the evenings when she had nothing better to do. Though, if the last few days were any indication, she wasn't going to have many lonely nights for quite a while.
Still facing her instructor, she put her arms under her stomach as she had seen him do. All right, smartass. Show me the other bit.
The one with the muscles," she demanded of him.
Julie felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Lennie. In his other hand, he waved his hard cock at her.
"What gives with you and Mister Universe here?" Lennie demanded. He pointed his stiff dick. "This, baby, is the only muscle I'm interested in."
Julie's voice was tinged with scorn.
"That about sums you up, man. A prick with ears. No interest in culture. The only thing you care about is sucking and blowing."
"And what," Lennie asked heavily, "is wrong with sucking and blowing? I didn't hear any cries of disappointment coming from you last night."
"Can't you see, Lennie, I'm trying to learn something. When you come up with a new way for me to blow you, let me know. 'Til then, please sit still and watch me learn to wiggle my tits. Alright?"
Lennie sat down heavily, facing them.
"Okay. I'm watching*" he told her. "But I'm thinking, too. When I come up with a new way to blow you'd better quit screwing around and make with the mouth."
Julie nodded agreement. Turning on her heels, she faced Dick again. Carefully, Dick took up his stance and started to explain the theory of dynamic tension to his attentive pupil standing bare and naked before him.
After five minutes of instruction, Julie felt that she had enough of the theory and was ready to try the practical applications of her lessons. Grasping her opposite fingers together, she pulled on each hand and while Dick put his fingers on her muscles, running from her full breasts to her armpits.
A cry of success burst from Dick as he felt the unused muscles begin to twitch under his touch.
"You've got it, kid. You're getting there."
Julie increased her efforts as Dick communicated his enthusiasm to her. Taking his hands away, Dick surveyed her efforts critically.
"Just a minute. You're not concentrating," he told her. "You've got to use the mind as well, Think! Think titty!"
He paused and looked into her eyes.
"Are you thinking titty?"
Julie looked down at her stationary knockers.
"I am," she insisted, "but my boobies aren't getting the message."
Dick was full of confidence.
"Try, try, try harder. You gotta practice. Here, let me help a little."
He gently put his hand under each of her tits so that her firm flesh was just resting on his fingers. He patted her tits in time with her flexes, in an upward direction, encouraging movement. Slightly at first, and then with growing momentum, her breasts responded to the combined efforts of Dick's encouraging hand and her flexing muscles. "I've got it. I've got it," Julie cried in delight. "Let go and I'll do it on my own."
Dick took his hands away and watched with pride as Julie's pointed breasts shook up and down with a seeming life of their own. As if by magic, without any other movement of her body, her tits rose and fell with increased rapidity as she gained proficiency in her newfound art. Still bouncing her knockers, Julie strode over to the mirror. Taking up a position before it, she continued her exercise. Her look of exultation gradually left her face as she watched her reflection shimmy in front of her. Turning her head to Dick, who stood right beside her, she said petulantly, "But Dick, they're both going up and down together. Yours go alternately. How come?"
"It's like I said, Julie. What you need is practice. Give it a week and you'll be good enough for amateur night at the Pink' Pussy. Let me know when you're going and I'll come along and give you a big hand."
A snort of exasperation came from the forgotten Lennie.
"What she needs is a big prick, not a big hand." I Holding his stiff joint out to Julie, he beckoned her over to him.
"I'm gonna teach you a few Indian words, would you like that?"
Julie rushed over to him eagerly.
"Oh would you? What's the first one?"
Pointing to his prick, Lennie informed her, "Put this in your mouth and say 'Wally, wally woom-erra'."
Julie eyed the size of his tool. "How can I talk with that in my mouth?" she asked.
Lennie pulled her head down to his lap. "As the man says, what you need is practice. Try, Julie, try."
Dutifully, Julie tried to mouth the words around the stiff obstacle in her mouth. Saliva and mumbled sounds slid down the staff of Lennie's instructive staff.
"Hey, that feels good. Especially the Rs. Say 'Rolls Royce Rapidly'."
Lennie beamed happily as the tensed tongue vibrated on his tool.
Julie eased the throbbing dong out of her mouth and looked up at Lennie.
"How's this for a giggle? What do you say to a sonic blow job. I'll hum. You tell me how it feels."
Leaning over again, Julie enclosed Lennie's prick with her mouth and began to hum softly. Beginning at a high pitch, she gradually lowered the range of her voice until it was like the deep, penetrating sound of a powerful dynamo. The powerful , almost sub-sonic vibrations ran through nerve and tissue of Lennie's prick, stimulating him like a man electrocuted, Dick watched them with a look of unbelieving amazement in his eyes.
"Now I've seen it all," he said as he put his mouth to Julie's ear. "Can you play request numbers on that skin flute?" he asked hopefully. "Give me a few bars of Rain Drops Keep Falling On My Head, will you?" Julie slipped the mouthpiece of her instrument from her full, red lips.
"It's not the goddamned raindrops that's my problem," she announced. "It's sperms. Lennie's like a geyser-Old Faithful. He erupts at ten minute intervals. I've only got to look at him and I get a face full of come."
Lennie got to his feet slowly and looked across his friend.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked. "This broad's getting uppity. Let's give her two face fulls."
Motioning, he directed Julie over to the bed. "Lie down on your back. We're a couple of face fuckers from the farm."
Wondering, Julie did as she was told as the two knelt over her. The crossed staffs of their penises loomed menacingly over her head, Lennie broke in on her speculations. "OK baby, grab one in each hand and start twitching."
Reaching up, Julie ran her fingers along this awesome display of massed manhood above her. Holding her palms uppermost, she began to stroke the erect flesh to encourage the discharge of lubricating fluid that she knew would soon emit from the straining head of each rampant penis, close to her eyes as they were, she couldn't help comparing the differences between them. Lennie's tool was now so familiar to her that she could visualize it with her eyes closed. Alongside Dick's rampant probe, it certainly lacked length. Its eight-inch ponderance seemed stunted and sawn off. Though what it lacked in length, it certainly] had in width. It was impossible for her to enclose more than half its circumference with her finger and thumb.
Dick's tool, on the other hand, must have been ad least twelve inches long from the rooted hairy base to the tip of its velvety head. But, there was. she thought, a sort of snakelike quality about it. Its extreme length was accentuated by its seeming thinness. Her fingers fitted around it without any effort, allowing her to feel the completeness of it as it slipped through her hollowed hand.
Despite the feeling of awe that she had experienced when she first saw it, now that she could confine it, encircle it, and have it in her hand, it didn't seem so terrifying as before. The familiarity didn't exactly breed contempt, but enabled her to study it without an overpowering feeling of inadequacy. Being able to get her hands around it made it seem more acceptable somehow.
Pausing for a second in her stroking manipulation, she allowed her fingers to run teasingly through the luxurious growth of pubic hair. She watched her fingers become lost in the thick tangle, and in her imagination, the pinkness of her half-hidden coursing fingers seemed like furtive cats slinking through some lush tropical undergrowth as they pushed forward, parting the hair as they went. The resilience of the springy hairs amazed her as she watched them spring back into place when she withdrew the pressing fingers from them.
Peering closely, she could see the oily dots o blackheads at the roots of the hairs along the base of his prick. Somehow, they made the massive dong more everyday and acceptable, bringing its immensity into an understandable frame of reference. Even the mightiest dong became commonplace if it had an acne problem.
Maybe, she speculated to herself, I could open a clinic for pricks with skin problems. Give a special rate for scalded ones. Julie Baldwin's Salon for Problem Pricks. Man, that's way out.
Abruptly, Dick's insistent voice broke into her reverie.
Stop moaning, will you? You can't blow us both at once, so I'll show you something. Stuff Lennie's limp tool in your mouth and see if you can revive it. I'm going to get some Vaseline from the bathroom. I'll show you how to give a hand job with a difference."
Julie heard his heavy tread as he left the room and went into the bathroom. Taking Lennie's now flaccid member in her hands, she squeezed the base it firmly, forcing the slack meat into a bulging hardness, then fed the end into her warm mouth. The rubbery softness allowed her to push it pound with her tongue in a novel, interesting Banner.
Moving her pouched cheeks, the wet tide of her saliva poured over the limp dong, washing it across the smoothness of her padded tongue. With each caress, she could feel the spasmodic shudder of his penis as the blood rushed to fill the hardening tissue. Slowly the prick hardened and forced her jaws further and further apart until she was no longer in control and able to slosh this rampant monster around in her mouth. Reassuring herself with a methodical steady licking of the pulsating head, she settled down to await Dick's return from the bathroom.
Just perceptible above Lennie's labored breathing, she heard the pad of Dick's returning feet. The bed sagged as he sank to the mattress beside them She felt the coldness of the glass jar of Vaseline against her body as Dick thrust in toward her.
His voice was tense with excitement as he spoke.
"Here, grab a handful, kid, and make a fist like a cunt."
Taking her hands from the base of Lennie's prick, she held his tool lightly between her teeth, allowing the satisfying rhythm of her tongue to continue unchecked.
Reaching down, she found the jar of Vaseline in Dick's waiting hand and scooped the thick lubricating jelly into her palms.
Dick altered his position slightly on the bed, bringing his hard staff within her reach. Cupping her hands, she slipped them around its satisfying hardness and slid them sensuously down the erect tool to grease its probing passage. Holding Dick's prick firmly between her palms, she began a circular, steady sweeping motion, concentrating on the sensitive head. The quick, strangled intake of his breath told her of his satisfaction.
"Take it easy," Dick muttered between his clenched teeth. "Back off a little or I'll shoot my load before I've had time to enjoy it."
Obediently, Julie eased the speed of her manipulation and placed one greasy hand on his balls. Gently, she maneuvered her grasp around them until the spongy nuts slipped through her hands in time with the friction on his knob end.
Julie closed her eyes and surrendered herself fully to the feelings that flooded through her as she listened to the groans of the two tortured men who writhed beside her. She was filled with an overwhelming sense of her own power from these two tough-looking males who were so utterly dependent upon her. She was in complete command.
As an experiment, she allowed her tongue to slow in its steady caress of Lennie's member. Then moving her hand down, she let Dick's oily prick throb unnoticed as she played with his balls. The pleading tone in their voices was like balm to her ego.
Slowly and tantalizingly, she built up the speed of their ministrations until she could almost hear the steam coming out of their ears. Building diem both up to the point of climax, she slowed down again until little whimpers of frustration came from the sweating men in her power.
Really, she thought to herself, it's like conducting an orchestra.
As she controlled the fluctuations of their passions, Julie became aware of the warm flooding desire that was flowing through the pit of her own stomach. Taking hold of Dick's hand, she placed it against her moist and eager love nest.
The soft hair on her outer lips parted under the forceful pressure of his hand, letting his fingers slip into the waiting wetness of her eager slit. A wave of aching desire burst over her. Arching her hips,she rubbed her cunt against his probing finger whilst a grunt of eagerness escaped from her working mouth and vibrated against Lennie's tool. Increasing the fury of her thrusting hips, she heard Dick's voice come to her over a purple sea of sexuality.
"Tell you what," he suggested. "I'll trade you fingers."
Wonderingly, Julie let him take one of her hands, leaving the other free to occupy itself in its manipulation of his swollen joint. She felt herself being guided between his firm, muscular thighs. Her fingers tingled to the touch of his hairy ass as they slipped between his buttocks and rested on the puckered orifice of his anus.
"Stick your finger in," Dick commanded.
The pressure on her wrist forced her greased digit into the sticky warmth of his asshole. With practiced ease, he pushed her searching finger in further until it came into contact with his overworked prostate gland.
"Rub it gently," he pleaded. "But don't stop playing with my prick."
Eagerly accepting this novelty, Julie allowed the surface of Dick's donut-like prostate to slip sensuously along the line of her soft finger. The ring of his ass seemed to hold her finger tight as it grasped her finger firmly at the first joint. His clinging rectum walls contracted spasmodically in time to her strokes on his swollen dong.
As she probed, stroked and sucked, giving of herself to the limit of her every feminine need, she felt the delicious surge of sexual helplessness grow and exceed the initial awakening she had experienced when she had sucked Lennie's prick. That first time, only a few action-packed hours ago, had then seemed to her unawakened senses like the absolute limit of intrusion into her unknowing mind. Now, with two panting men between her, she realized that though she was giving her body, she was not being violated. In their passionate need of her, she in turn was taking from them. In reality it was her seemingly passive flesh that was in control of the erect masculine pricks that were pumping and oozing into her with such throbbing insistence.
She had only to vary the regular tempo of her massaging hands upon Dick, or the steady catlike lap of her tongue around Lennie's mouth-filling member for the truth of her realization to be demonstrated in the agonized moans of frustration that burst from the writhing men.
The deep, mind-blowing sensation flooded her brain. The feeling of calculated giving and surrender, merged with the juicy sensation of receiving as Dick's steadily working finger found and played with her erect clitoris.
In a wriggling, thrusting abandon, she gave herself completely to the waves of emotion that surged through her. The duality of her personality responded in a nerve-tearing ebb and flow to the erotic stimulation she was receiving through her mouth, her hands, her fingers, and through her pulsating love nest.
The awareness of her mind sharpened the sensations that coursed through her vibrating nerves as Dick's revolving finger caused the love juices to secrete and lubricate the folds of her already slick slit. Inevitably, the rising wall of complete sexual fulfillment grew until it completely blocked oat every awareness that tried to intrude into her aroused, abandoned being. Her mind pulsed and beat like the variations of some fantastic psychedelic light display until she cried out with the uncontrollable joy of her submerging senses. Gradually, with a finely drawn intensity, she rode out each successive wave of sexuality. Again and again, she felt that there could be no going beyond the endurance of the crest that she had just surmounted, she paused for one breath. At this shattering moment on the peak of sensation, her palpitating nerves braced themselves for the impossibility of the next towering peak that burst upon her.
Trembling on the utter tip of one nerve taut sensation, she felt the shudder of Lennie's cock as it convulsed in the final agony before discharging its steaming sperms into her tingling mouth.
The scalding eruption of his semen over the taste buds of her sensitive tongue toppled the equilibrium of her tottering control and she slipped down into the final abandon of her own cunt-flooding climax as Lennie's jism slid and wriggled with a million-tailed determination down the membranes of her arched throat. Tightening her lips around his erupting penis, she milked him of every drop of his creamy discharge.
Dick, stimulated by the joint climax that merged in animal abandon beside him, arched his back and, in response to her increased jerking of his beef, spat his excruciating climax through the funnel of her fingers and onto the exposed whiteness of her heaving belly.
Wiping her Vaseline-coated hand on the sheet, Julie scooped up the cooling sperms as they pooled on her stomach. Raising them to her mouth, she dipped her pointed tongue into her cupped palm. She savored the tang of Dick's fresh essence against the slightly earthy taste of Lennie's already swallowed earlier discharge. Moaning in her feverish desire to take all of both men inside her, she tilted her palm and let the oyster of Dick's salty semen slide into her waiting mouth.
Julie cuddled herself close between the supine forms of the two exhausted men. The salty smell of their sweat allowed their spent bodies to slide into a contented sleep of utter repletion, she was conscious of the harsh proximity of their hairy nudity against the soft ripeness of her young body. Sighing, she slipped her hands along their relaxed bodies until she found their limp pricks, soft and spent on the bushy couch of pubic hairs. Curling her comforting hands around them both, she fell asleep listening to their deep, regular breathing.