Chapter 2
When she slammed the front door at home, Sally Jean had the premonition that it was empty. There was that silent feeling about the house that only a practically deserted house can have. The loneliness suited her fine. After that lurid sexual display on Noreen's part at school and her own sinful excitement, she wanted to be alone. She wanted to think things over.
"Anybody home?" she called out.
The answer was a satisfyingly empty echo.
She headed for the stairs thinking about the water splashing off Noreen's pale white skin in the shower and the way the girl's hand had played with her own snatch. Now that she felt secure, the excitement that had almost overwhelmed Sally Jean in the shower stall began to creep back into her body. She was tingly between her soft, round thighs. Ever since the moment she'd left the school grounds, the insides of her thighs had been moist and hot.
The sensation of having a wet crotch recalled Noreen's wet, white skin. Sally shuddered and involuntarily clasped a hand to her own crotch as she went up the stairs. What Noreen had been doing was terrible. The red-haired girl had been finger fucking herself.
Sally wondered what it had felt like. She'd never done it and it was a mystery.
Without hesitation, Sally headed for her bedroom. By the time she was inside and swung the door carelessly shut behind her she was hot and sweaty even though the day had been cool. Quickly she flopped on her back on the bed and had her dress tucked up around her waist.
With her head propped up on the pillows, Sally had a wonderful view of her crotch. Her young, firm breasts made soft mounds in her blouse that she had to look past, but she could see her pink panties all right.
Sally was breathing fast. What she was about to do was wrong. She was positive of that, but the hot pounding of her blood in her veins wouldn't let her back off. She needed it.
The pink nylon of her panties puffed outward around her slightly swollen sex mound. The dark pattern of emerging pubic hair showed clearly through. And her wet panties clung like a skin to her flesh, molding themselves around the separate lips of her hole.
Delicately, Sally ran a finger across the center of her crotch. A strange thrill shot through her body as she pressed the slick material into the crack between her thighs. And there was a separate feeling of pleasure as her finger ran over the soft hump of her throbbing clitoris. She breathed harder and faster and knew she couldn't stop now.
She had already kicked her shoes off. Now she began peeling her panties down her thighs. Her hands were trembling and in her mind's eye she compared her own finger sliding down toward her crotch with that of Noreen's.
Finally, the wisp of nylon was around her angles and she kicked it off. Breathless, she lay back on the bed staring at the ceiling. Sally Jean was preparing herself to do something she'd been taught all her life was evil. She was getting ready to touch herself.
Masturbation ... to play with her own genitals.
The young girl's breasts heaved and fell in immature anguish. The flame of desire filled her body. She wanted something-anything-to touch her between the legs and take the ache away. And if it was only her hot little finger available, so be it. That would have to do. The fact that she trembled just thinking about it, about finger fucking herself, made the anticipation that much more compelling. She had built herself up to doing it and she couldn't back down. She took a deep breath-and held it and held it and held it....
There was a curious tightness between her legs. Her crotch seemed miles away and the soft, almost hairless lips surrounding her vagina seemed swollen and distended beyond measure. She felt so big down there she was afraid to look.
Her hand had slid across her smooth skin, over the flat expanse of her waist, barely touching the indention of her belly button. And already she was turned on. Her legs convulsed and lifted her wide hips as if in offering. Her twat turned up, a ready target for her creeping fingers. Her legs spread to make more room. There was no turning back.
Sally's fingers brushed the light furry triangle that surrounded her vaginal opening. It was like generating electricity in her body. Her pelvis twitched, her gash twisted upward. She desperately wanted to grasp her immature breasts in both her hands and crush them and maul them until she was filled with the pleasure they were capable of supplying.
But she needed her hands. Her fingers hesitated on the slick lips of her innocent cunny. The touch burned through her body. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth and her finger plunged wetly into the wide open, inviting spectacle.
"Oooooooooooo," Sally moaned in consternation and joyful pleasure.
The finger sliding to the hilt into her slick, rubbery tunnel also filled her with a kind of joyful pleasure. Her sex flesh writhed ecstatically around it and each tiny twitch fed more joy to her already burning body.
Sally closed her eyes and concentrated on pumping her finger up and down between her legs the way she'd seen Noreen doing it. There was a rhythm to it. It wasn't just speed or depth. It was how fast or how hard her finger was traveling up and down. It was when her quivering twat swallowed her gyrating finger in its pink little mouth.
The feeling of joy spread with rapidity through her body. She experienced a lassitude mixed with a distant but approaching pleasure. It was like rolling thunder coming nearer and nearer. Her finger was flashing in and out of her cunt. She was pumping her hand so hard she was sweating. Heat flooded her body.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," she moaned. She was riding a wave of feeling that took her up into the air and when the wave broke under her, she was still floating, fucking.
Her hips lifted greedily up into the air after her finger. Her hot thighs closed around her hand and in a moment she was exclaiming with pleasure and wonder. The beauty of her finger sliding wetly in and out of her hole was inexpressible. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was something she had been missing all of her life and she knew that she couldn't go on missing it forever.
Sally's heart was thumping wildly as she looked down at her bare, girlish flesh obscenely revealed where her skirt was hiked up around her waist. Her finger, sliding down to the long slot in her crotch, appeared disembodied. It was the feeling it made in her hole that counted, not the other way around. She wanted to be poked deeper and deeper.
Lying back on the bed, Sally closed her eyes again and worked her finger and thought daringly that it was a boy. She knew what a penis was, all right. And she wondered if it would feel as satisfying pushing in and out of her tight slot. She was afraid of it actually happening, and yet the secret desire she couldn't deny was that she would actually be fucked by a handsome boy. Some one who would cover her body with his and work his sweaty cock in and out of her vagina and make her moan with sinful pleasure.
But, with her eyes closed, daydreaming again, Sally Jean floated away on the simple pleasure of her finger slipping eagerly in and out of her sexual lips....
"Mmmmmmmm," she hummed to herself. It was an unconscious sound. Her own humming almost covered the slight sound of someone out in the hall. But not quite.
Hurriedly Sally yanked down her dress to cover her thighs. She put her hands behind her head-the picture of innocence. Only her own peace of mind was disturbed by the guilt-laden odor of her sex hole on her finger. It was strong and acrid and Sally Jean was frightened that everybody else would be able to smell it as clearly as she did herself.
The door opened and her heart leaped in her throat. Then it settled back down where it belonged.
"Hi, Tony," she said. It was only her brother, almost a year younger than she was herself. She practically ignored him most of the time. Younger brothers were a pain.
"Hi, yourself," he said. Tony was swarthy in a way. His skin was always darker than normal from constant sunbathing. His usually dark hair was lightened by sunlight and swimming that he managed to keep up in the winter. The best feature Sally could think of about him was his body. Tony was spectacularly fit. He wasn't built like an O.J. Simpson or anything like that. But for a boy his age he was adequate.
"What do you want?" She asked. Her question was bravado. Her heart was still beating madly at the closeness of the call. "Don't you knock anymore when you come into other people's rooms?"
Tony smiled. "Not when I come bearing gifts, Sis."
"Hmmmph." Sally Jean stuck her nose in the air. The last gift she'd gotten unannounced from her brother was a toad snuck between the sheets. It wasn't an answer that would warm the cockles of her heart. Or even make her less suspicious.
"What is it?" she asked finally.
"Something you really need. I can tell, Sis. You'll love it."
"Can the bologna. Just tell me what it is or get out. Okay?"
For a long moment Tony stared at her sprawled out on the bed. His eyes took in her hands behind her head, the way her breasts were thrust out like little mountains, the short skirt that barely covered her crotch. "All right, Sis," he said and grinned. "This is what I've got for you. And if you're real good I'll let you have it all to yourself."
Like a lust-made satyr, the boy's hands cupped the front of his jeans and bulged his cock and balls out at his sister's reclining body. .He was grinning like a mad-man