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Sunday School

By: joeroberts



You were standing on the right of her sitting on the queen size bed, she a thirty something lithe foxy brunette with flashing jade green eyes and you a handsome enough blue eyed twenty something who could probably have had any girl he wanted but so far hadn't, for the shyness that was in all the six feet of you. 

Your body was young and fit with the male curves and ripples in all the right places and hers the female same with just that touch of feminine plumpness here and there that would have given St Paul himself a diamond tipped drill bit of a boner, if the sight of it didn't give the old wowser a stroke before it barred him up.

Strange what a conversation around a coffee machine can lead to. You'd watch her walk in to the empty bar yourself staff room, firm breasts leading the way, perfect mammalia officiana those, and a rear end like wobbling pork. The breasts pushed against a white cotton blouse, not straining to get out but just firmly enough to command male attention and the behind was one that drew male eyes to it. Even under her long gray pants it topped a pair of what must have been damn near engine-turned legs sitting neatly on platform soled shod feet.

She must have felt your eyes wandering over her five foot nine frame because she set down her half empty coffee cup and told you to put 'em back in. Somehow overcoming your shy nature, you'd made a cheeky remark which she'd topped soon enough. While you were trying to think of another witticism she'd drained the rest of her coffee, tossed the cup in the bin, then glided up to you. You didn't know whether she liked the cut of your jib or not until her eyes had twinkled and she'd asked you out for a drink after work, playfully smacking your bottom as she glided on and back to work. You'd thought that a bit of reverse sexism but hadn't dared to return the compliment.

One thing had led to another and some weeks later you'd got to talking about THAT. When she'd got you to admit how inexperienced you were at it, she'd tossed back her curly ringlets so you caught a glimpse of old burnished gold and laughed. "Well you're in luck my shy blond, I'm between lovers and can't be bothered buying a sex doll, so I might have to see if a young dog can be taught some old tricks, eh?" No luck that night, nor on a few others, but just when you were about to give her up for a prick-tease there came a day's hard at her place, which she was renovating and where she'd conned you into coming over one Sunday to give her a hand here and there.

She wore a carpenter's apron and ragged arsed work clothes as naturally as any soldier ever wore a uniform and a pistol belt, she'd the use of her hands to go with it, and could curse as long and hard as any chippy, all the way from idle swearing to out and out blasphemy. A few times she'd let fly at you, as she did once when you'd looked at her instead of at a cupboard door you should have been planing back. "God fuck a fornicatin' fox you know how to make sheep's eyes, don'tcha? If you'd keep your mind on your work as hard as you keep your eyes on my tits 'n arse, we'd've fixed the whole street by now!" And you had the feeling she'd nearly put words like that into hymns, if, that is, she was ever any place where they'd be singing any.

When at last she'd got a good day's hard unpaid out of you equal to what the worst sweat extractor you'd ever known could have got (and he your old man), all the tools had been put away, both of you'd had a shower and she'd cooked a steak with all the trimmings it was off to the couch in her living room and the rest of a bottle of the roughest red you'd ever tasted.

God that stuff loosened your tongue! You relaxed in your clean pair of old jeans and work shirt and drank in her figure in a whorish red mini-skirt and well worn yellow faded Tee shirt. It wasn't long before she was sitting beside you and the both of you talking all kinds of rot. But when she'd moved to cuddle you you froze. She'd just wrapped her arms around you and told you to relax, tell her what was wrong. It was when she'd patted your bottom that it came out, slowly as you stumbled for the words.

She gripped your shoulders hard, looking deep into your eyes. "You'd like me to spank you, is that it? And by the sound of it, you'd like me to follow that with something a bit harder, wouldn't you? Hey, don't worry about it, you're not weird, not weird at all! It's just your wires got crossed 'cos of a bit of stupid parenting, that's all. Now take a deep breath, and relax f'r chrissakes!"

She'd put her arms around you again, massaging your neck, shoulders and upper back and kissing you, a long slow full kiss. Then she'd taken you into her bedroom with her arm around you and you got your shirt off and stepped out of your jeans as she sat on the bed, nipples erect against her Tee shirt. There was a sofa hard up against the end of the bed, and some things hidden under a towel on the bed but just as you vaguely wondered what all that was about ...

"Leave your undies on," she'd said as you moved to take them off. "You're a little too old to be spanked completely bare ... but there's no reason why they can't ride up a bit eh?" And she'd quickly reefed your jocks up right into your crack as you lay across her lap, feeling the contact between her silky thighs and yours, longing to plant your mainmast straining to escape into her brilliant breech.

CRACK! CRACK! Right out of the blue she smacked first your right and then your left cheek HARD, her left hand holding your undies tightly. "Did THAT take your mind off sex? Good, that's the right way to start a spanking!"

"Aargh! Please! Not so hard!"

The smacks rained down so quickly you couldn't count them nor establish any pattern to them nor evade them however much you bucked and reared. This wasn't like any spanking you'd got as a child, you'd had many, but they were just pain and tears. THIS was pain but something else besides.

Oh it was the same old valley you remembered being driven into by your old man's belt, him reinforcing each lash with religious ranting just to make the valley more wretched, but with her it was like gliding along the valley floor with the hope of going up to a peak every time she lightened up which neither he nor your mother ever did.

She stopped somewhere between thirty and forty, then squeezed each cheek in turn slowly while her left hand let go of your jocks and stroked your hair and neck. Then you felt her right hand start sliding between your knees and working its way up your inner thighs, what was the word you'd come across in some French novel once? 

"Pas d'arraigne" she said, "Spider pats in English".

As her left hand got hold of your jocks again and pulled them slowly back into your crack. Then you felt something cold between your thighs.

When the buzzing started you realised that was a vibrator and she an expert, slowly running its slim tip all over your inner thighs then softly pushing it into your crack, tracing it teasingly around the inside of your bottom until your erection returned with such a vengeance as to nearly blow you off her lap.

Suddenly she flung her right leg over your legs, then CRACK CRACK CRACK again, making you gasp and your eyes water. 

"A little pleasure and a little pain and more of the same to get your bottom nice and flamed", she'd rhymed.

And so it continued until at last she stopped, and in between some more creepy crawly finger work said, "H'mm that's really nice and red, and hot too, but as you know, a good spanking should end with just a little more, shouldn't it? You'd not learn anything otherwise would you?"

"No", you'd said, "But please don't use a belt!" 

"Agh, I don't use a belt, they are crude and useless for this kind of thing ... I have something much better than that". Two last stinging firecracker CRACKS and, "Now get up and go stand in the corner while I get it. Nose to the wall and don't you dare look around or rub!"

She rustled around in a closet and afterwards got you to walk to the end of the bed, to the sofa. She'd fetched a few pillows and arranged a couple of them on the back of the sofa in the middle of it. When you saw what was lying on the bed, you were taken back a bit, because it was a straight cane just under three feet long and three/eighths of an inch thick. 

"Meet The Tigress", she said sardonically. "Now kneel on the sofa in front of the pillows for me". 

"But I've never been caned before".

"Good! Be a new experience for you then, won't it?" Despite yourself, you'd knelt on the sofa and she sat down on your left, then suddenly jerked your jocks halfway down your thighs. "Ooh, you're a REAL blond" she said as she looked at your pubic hair. "Don't see them very often, and by the way, the cane is always given bare bottom. I should know, I got enough of it at boarding school". She felt your eyes on her tits and laughed a bit, "I'll take my Tee shirt off and give you a good look if you like, but that'll cost you extra". 

"Meaning?" you'd asked.

"Well the standard punishment for naughty boys is six hard cuts, at least the first time, but if you want to look at my tits I'll make it twelve, OK?" You'd agreed, and she'd ripped her Tee shirt off and flung it aside, then sidled up closer to you. "Look but don't touch for now". At the same time she grabbed your semi-erect cock and balls, lifting them while her right hand pushed against your bottom, making you lean over the pillows with your bottom in the air. "Spread your thighs just a little wider, that's it, perfect, now relax and hold that position for me".

She got you to bury your head into another pillow after another bit of hand play between your thighs and bottom. Then she walked behind you and gave you a body slide so you could feel her breasts all the way up your back. Her hair caressed your neck as she slowly murmured, "I'm going to give you three sets of four cuts each, OK? It will really hurt but I don't want any yelling or too much bucking around. If you feel like crying, cry into the pillow. Just concentrate on going into subspace".

You didn't know what that meant but you weren't long after finding out. She walked behind, to your left, then paused. "Just imagine you're about to get it for something really naughty". She swished the cane as she spoke. "As in, for example", she chuckled, "For being a lazy idle sex crazed little boy who's finally got himself bent over the Headmistress's desk, and not before time either!" She added, more as an afterthought, "And you're getting off light, the old bitch I had never bothered with warm-up spankings ... she didn't know much of anything beyond what the Wholly Babble said, but b'Jesus Christ she knew how to use a cane!"

She'd tapped your bottom lightly with the cane, just on the fleshy part below your tailbone. Then there was a swish and you felt a thump. 

"Aargh! Fuck that HURTS!" you'd yelled, and your bottom bucked as a burning pain seared across your arse. 

"Well it's bloody well meant to," she said. "And that, pet, has just cost you one extra. Mind you, that behind of yours is so delicious I wouldn't mind starting over again, would you like me to?"

"Oh Christ no!"

"Then friggin' well keep it still!"

Just as the pain from the first was subsiding, SWISH! THUMP! again, and a few seconds later again and then a blinding flash of pain as the last of the set crashed in, right in between your thighs and bottom. You'd let out a low moan and started crying into the pillow. She paused, ran her left hand over the welts like a craftswoman proud of her work and teased inside your thighs with the cane. Another long slow body slide, "You took that very well for the first time, that's only the one extra ... so far".

Thus subspace, crying into the pillow as the cane burned in eight more times, desperately trying not to buck or clench as each cut landed, still crying during the interval between the last two sets, despite the teasing and the body slide and her hands massaging your neck and shoulders. Deep in the valley. "Just five more pet, four and one extra, you can take it"

You did, but you nearly couldn't. The last one went right where the very first had gone and your bottom bucked right into the air under it 

"ARGHH, OW!" and you cried again.

Then the body slide, and you heard the cane being tossed to one side, "That's it pet, it's all over, no more. I'm just going to rub something into those welts", and you heard her skirt and panties come off as she straightened up. When she took your jocks right off, it was time to climb the mountain again.

"Must say your bum looks good in stripes" she said as she gently massaged in some soothing cream and used the vibrator again. This time your erection nearly threw you upright as she slowly worked the vibrator tip into your anus. Crying was forgotten as you shot from the deep valley onto the peak and you had to do everything you knew not to come.

Then before you knew it you were lying on the bed, with a pillow under your bottom while she sprayed your cock with some numbing substance from a can marked Stallion Spray sold by some outfit called Priapus Ltd. She'd laughed when you asked just who or what Priapus was ...

And then she'd mounted you, deliberately squatting away from you so's you saw her Rock of Ages beam ends you'd been dreaming of and you KNEW who Priapus was several old dog's tricks and one Vesuvius of an orgasm later, both of you coming together and you falling asleep in her arms.

Next day at work she winked as you winced when you sat down during a coffee break. That had certainly been one hell of a Sunday school lesson.

And one interlude on the long slow road to becoming the manager and manageress of a Priapus sex shop.

Sunday School Punishment



All characters in this story are fictional and over 18.



"Take your seats." Mr. Dennings grunted as he closed the door behind the last entering Sunday school student. "That's enough chatter." 

Anna chipped away at the black fingernail paint she was wearing as Mr. Dennings opened to Leviticus and began another lecture on the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah. She looked up at ceiling with her dark green eyes and was almost done counting the tiles when the classroom door flew open and her classmate, Kelly, stumbled in. Mr. Dennings turned towards Kelly with a furious, red face.

"You are 15 minutes late and you are interrupting the whole class!" He growled.

Kelly trembled and stared at the floor with her bright blue eyes. Her long blond hair fell into her face and she pushed it away while simultaneously pulled down her short pleated skirt. She looked up at Mr. Dennings and blushed, "I'm s-sorry. I didn't mean to..." She trailed off and moved quickly to an open seat by the door that faced Anna's direction. Mr. Dennings glared at Kelly for a silent minute and then quietly said, "While the rest of the class leaves for mass, you will stay here with me, Kelly."



As Mr. Dennings continued with his lecture, Anna's eyes remain on Kelly who was bent over her notebook seemly taking down every word Mr. Dennings uttered. Anna felt strange as she stared at Kelly's pretty hair draped over her desk and around her small shoulders. When Kelly looked up at Mr. Dennings Anna could see her tits pushed together and a flash of her pink bra. Anna began to feel heat between her legs and realized the sight of Kelly's large boobs and the curve of Kelly's thin waist was making her wet. Anna couldn't stop staring and slowly lowered her gaze to that short plaid skirt and white leggings. If only Kelly would open her thighs just a little, Anna would be able to see right between them. Her heart was beating faster and her leg began to jump up and down. She was so overtaken by these new feelings she didn't hear Mr. Dennings call her name.

"Anna!" She abruptly turned her head, her mouth open and eyes wide, feeling very guilty. Mr. Dennings was frowning and slowly turned his head from Anna to Kelly who, along with the rest of the class, was staring at Anna with a confused look. Mr. Dennings slowly smiled then turned back to Anna and said, "A word after class, please?" Anna gulped.

As the other students filed out after another 40 minutes, Anna remained in her seat staring down, refusing to look over at Kelly who was still sitting nervously. Mr. Dennings closed the door behind the last student and turned to the two girls. 

"Anna, you were not paying attention during lecture today."

Anna started, "I was! I—"

"Do not lie! Come to the front of the classroom." Anna stood and walked slowly to the front of the classroom, trying not to position herself too close to Mr. Dennings. 

Mr. Dennings watched Anna stand and begin to walk towards him. His eyes scanned her black tank top, tight fitting around her breasts and small waist. She wore low slung jeans that revealed a bit of skin and her prominent hip bones. Anna was a very sexy girl though she was constantly in a bad mood and clearly rejected his teachings. He could feel his pulse quicken as she approached and he smiled to himself as he felt a surge of power. He had seen her staring at her classmate Kelly and though he too could barely resist Kelly's short shirt and perky tits, he was disgusted by homosexual activity. "I know what was distracting you today and I'm prepared to save you from these disgusting urges that plague your mind."

Anna shook her head frantically, standing only a few feet from Mr. Dennings. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

Mr. Dennings drank in the look of fear that grew quickly in her green eyes. He felt his cock twitch and he knew he could no longer resist the urges that grew stronger each Sunday as these falsely pious girls strutted around his classroom. 

"Kelly!" He barked while maintaining eye contact with Anna. "You were late. You interrupted class. Unless you accept a punishment, I will be eternally disappointed in you." 

Kelly stammered again, her eyes welling up with tears, "I'm s-sorry, Mr. Dennings! I accept your punishment. I don't want to disappoint you."

"Come here, Kelly. You will sit on my desk."

Anna watched Kelly nervously walk across the room and jump a little to get her round ass up on Mr. Dennings big oak desk. Anna did not know what was coming next but she couldn't stop herself from looking at Kelly's sexy legs draped over the side of the desk, nervously swinging back and forth, her sneakers unable to touch the ground.

"Anna, you will kneel before Kelly."

Anna's jaw dropped and she protested, "No!"

With a strong hand, Mr Dennings wrapped his meaty fingers around Anna's skinny arm and forced her before Kelly who stared down at her with a scared, confused look. Anna tried to yank her arm free from Mr. Dennings control but his grasp was like iron. 

"You want to be a homosexual deviant, then you're going to get it all out of your system and see what it's really like to commit a sin with another woman." Mr. Dennings commanded, breathing hard.

He could feel his cock twitching and growing as he moved his hand from Anna's arm to her dark ponytail. He pulled her head back to look into her terrified eyes and smiled. He could feel the confidence of moral justice flowing through his fingers and strengthening his grasp. He looked up to see Kelly's confused eyes looking into his. She was such a dumb blonde but she was so sexy, clearly a born sinner, just too dumb to see how badly she tempted the good Christians around her. Clearly it was his duty to set these two tempting witches straight and he could barely control his excitement. He reached towards Kelly with his left hand and slid it between her knees.

Kelly was so used to following the orders of adults that without thinking, she allowed his hand to travel up between her legs. Her heart was racing as she knew all of this was so wrong and scary, yet she did not feel confident enough to ask her teacher to stop. Surely, he wouldn't go as far as to touch her in her private area. His fingers kept climbing and as she stared at his evil grin she knew she was not safe, yet she could do nothing about it. 

An inch before her panties, he began to spread his hand, pushing her thighs apart. He growled, "Now don't move" and gripped his left hand around one of her thighs, squeezing until she gasped in pain. Kelly watched Mr. Dennings pull Anna's head back by her ponytail as he said, "Now feel the pain you cause your classmate as you commit a homosexual sin upon her" and pushed Anna's head forward against Kelly's pussy. Kelly gasped but before she could scream Mr. Dennings moved his hand from her thigh and covered her mouth and nose so she couldn't make a sound. She shook her head violently because she couldn't breathe and Mr. Dennings softened his grip just a little, smiling down at her with greedy pleasure. He continued to mash Anna's face against Kelly's panties and as Anna tried to yell, Kelly's panties became hot with Anna's breath. 

Anna tried to resist but as Mr. Dennings pushed her against Kelly's covered pussy, she couldn't help smelling Kelly's panties. She felt her stomach growl and heard Mr. Dennings say, "The sooner you commit the sin, the sooner you may be forgiven". She didn't want to hurt Kelly but the smell of her pussy and the warmth of her thighs was making Anna more wet than she had ever been before. She let her tongue slide out of her mouth and opened her lips to take some of the fabric in her mouth. It was delicious though she felt so wrong and dirty. Mr. Dennings took his hand off of Kelly's mouth and to Anna's surprise, Kelly remained silent as Mr. Dennings opened a drawer and took out some scissors. He kept his right hand around Anna's ponytail as he made two snips to Kelly's white cotton panties, allowing them to fall off. Anna was overcome with desire and dove into Kelly's virgin pussy, lapping away and circling Kelly's clit. She heard a gasp and then what sounded like a moan from Kelly. 

Kelly couldn't resist arching her back as her classmates face was pushed against her bare pussy. She had never felt so dizzy or warm in her life and as Anna's tongue flicked her clit, she felt as though she was swelling with excitement. She tried to stifle the sounds that rose from her chest, reminding herself that this was a punishment and it was wrong to enjoy it.

Mr. Dennings stared down at the two girls, one hand holding Anna's ponytail as she dived greedily into Kelly's pussy, the other hand at his pants, unzipping his fly and catching his fat 8 inch cock as it sprung from his slacks. He felt his hard meat and began to stroke himself as he stared at Kelly's innocent face, eyes closed and mouth open. He felt sorry for the poor girl having to endure this kind of sick lesbian punishment. He let go of the lesbian's ponytail, sure that she was too distracted to notice. Putting two hands on Kelly's shoulders, he pushed her down to lay on the desk, her head draping off the side. He ran his fat fingers through her soft hair and though her eyes had flung open and she bucked her head from side to side, he grasped a fistful of her hair and positioned his cock. 

As she opened her mouth to yell, he shoved his fat, sweaty meat down her throat. She choked and screamed but the sound was muffled and the vibrations felt wonderful around his throbbing cock. He closed his eyes and began to pump in and out of the virgin mouth, wet and slobbering though she pretended she was scared. He was so happy to be saving her from the satanic pleasure occurring between her legs. Surely, it was pious to fuck a tempted woman back to the safety of male love. He had two hands in her blonde hair now and continued slowly thrusting the extent of his cock down her throat, a tight squeeze but a beautiful sight.

Kelly chocked and screamed unable to fight off the giant slab of meat being driven into her body. She felt dirty knowing she could take this much cock without throwing up. She felt his head going so deep it seemed as though it gave her a stomach ache yet, she couldn't deny she was drinking in the scent of his sweaty cock. Unable to resist, she began to swirl her tongue against the shaft that slide through her mouth. Every fourth stroke, Mr. Dennings would pull out until the head of his dick rested against her tongue and she could feel the precum dribbling out. The taste was salty and delicious and caused her to buck her hips into Anna's aggressive licking. 

Mr. Dennings was proud of Kelly as she took his whole cock into her mouth. He knew she deserved to be fucked by men and could no longer stand the sight of the lesbian between this innocent blonde child's legs. He was so disturbed by the dark head of hair bobbing between those beautiful thighs that he could almost feel himself swelling to completion. He pulled his cock from Kelly's hungry mouth and she let out a soft whimper. 

He strode around the desk to where Anna had lifted her head to look at him and picked her up, shoving her upper body against Kelly, causing them to both be laying down on the desk facing one another. 

"Take off your sinful clothing!" He demanded, eager to see the underwear this tempting slut chose to put on. He felt his cock surge as both Kelly and Anna followed his order. Kelly's fingers quickly undid the buttons to her blouse as Anna propped herself up to pull off her black tank top with one hand. Mr. Dennings, cock still hanging out rock hard, reached around to Anna's crotch to undo her pants button and yank down her tight jeans. Her ass was perfectly round and unable to resist, Mr. Dennings slapped his hard cock against Anna's perfectly sized ass.

"Ready for your punishment, lesbian slut?" He asked as he wrapped a one big hand around the back of Anna's neck, pushing her body into Kelly's. 

Anna whimpered, her arms wrapped around Kelly, "Please, Mr. Dennings. I'm sorry for my sins. I understand the error of my ways. I won't do it anymore I promise!" She pleaded again, "I promise!"

Mr. Denning's responded with a hard slap of his palm to Anna's ass. His large meaty hand was the size of one of her cheeks. "You promise?" He asked then brought down another hard slap on Anna's bare bottom.

"Yes!" Anna screamed. Mr. Denning slapped her ass harder. It felt as though he would leave bruises. His firm hand hit her so sharply. "Yes, Mr. Dennings!" Anna repeated. His cock surged as she said his last name and he spanked her again. 

"You're a bad slut, aren't you?" SPANK

"Yes, I am." Anna whimpered. 

Mr. Dennings could have gone on slapping that firm little ass but his cock was surging and he couldn't resist rubbing his cock against Anna's ass, "You stupid slut, you think just because you apologize you get off without punishment. You see the errors of your ways, maybe but do you FEEL the error of your ways?" 

His breathing was heavy as he pushed Anna's body into Kelly's, both girls whimpering. "You are a sinner. You need to be fixed, don't you? You need a big cock...my big cock to show you the truth. Yes...Anna, you little slut...this is probably what you wanted all along." 

He felt delirious as he stared at Anna's tight little pink asshole surrounded by her bright red ass. "You're a born sinner and you're always going to be temptation. The best I can do is just..." He breathed hard as he circled his cock closer to her virgin asshole, pre cum trailing along her soft skin of her asshole. "All I can do is show you what you're good for." 

With that he pushed his 8 inch cock down into the tightest hole he'd ever felt. He groaned loudly as Anna screamed and Kelly wrapped her arms back around Anna, not knowing what had just happened. Kelly felt Anna tense up and nearly spasm against her naked chest. Mr. Dennings was groaning and reached around Anna to caress Kelly's breast. 

Kelly was terrified but her teacher's calloused hand felt so good rubbing against her hard nipple as it poked through her thin lace bra. She felt Anna's nipples rubbing her other breast and she could feel a wet stop on the desk from her own juices.

Mr. Denning's pumped his thick cock into Anna's raw ass in delirium. He felt out of control as he ravaged this slut's asshole, yet he knew he was in the right. His cock had never been wrapped so tightly and the girl's noises only made him swell to a greater size inside of her. He slammed the whole of his meat into her, pounding her tight ass with righteous fury . "You tempting slut!" He roared as Anna struggled beneath him, "You deserve the fires of hell and instead you get my hard cock in your ass, you lucky whore!" 

Anna had never felt such pain! She felt as though she was being split in two. Yet, she was so wet she could barely stand it. She felt as though she was pouring juices down onto the sexy girl below her whose nipples she could feel rubbing against her own hard tits. Anna felt torture as her clit remained unstimulated. Her ass felt like it was being ripped and pleasured a million times over. 

She grinded her hips against the girl below her and dove her own hand down between her legs to play with her clit. She flattened her palm and rubbed herself in a frenzy, desperately trying to overcome the pain with the mounting pleasure. She could smell her own juices and began to feel an electric stirring inside her lower body. The stirring built to a buzzing peak, her whole body tensed and she felt as though all her nerves were standing on end.

As Anna let out another loud scream, Mr. Dennings felt his orgasm coming on. He ripped his cock from Anna's used asshole and flung her violently off the desk. Kelly lay exposed and terrified, her open blouse revealing a lacy pink bra that could not restrain her hardened nipples. Her legs lay open and Mr. Dennings could see the juices leaking from that virgin pussy. His cock almost burst knowing he would be the first man to separate those tight walls and as Kelly put out her thin arms to keep him away, he rammed his hips forward and split the blonde in half. 

His cock filled her tight pussy and as Kelly screamed, Mr. Dennings finally burst. His cum filled the young girl until it leaked out onto the desk. Mr. Dennings felt the cum streaming from him for what felt like an entire minute and he continued to pump into the stupid slut until her screams turned to moans. Her tiny hands grasped at his broad shoulders as he continued to ravage her and push his manhood all the way into her wet cunt. 

She bucked her hips and rode his cock like a whore. He ripped her flimsy bra off and began to squeeze her hard nipples so her cries turned again into pleasured sobs. He mashed her clit every time he pushed his dick all the way in and the girl continued to swirl her hips against him. "You're a slut too!" He cried "I thought you were the pure one but you're just as slutty and tempting as your lesbian friend!" He came again into the little whore and pulled out his spent cock. Kelly rippled with pleasure in a way she could barely understand. She knew she was filled to the brim with her teacher's cum and she could barely breathe as her body continued to buzz. 

Mr. Dennings spat down at her and then glared at Anna who was lying disheveled on the classroom floor. "Clean up your slut friend. I did my best with you two but there's obviously no saving you." He zipped himself up and strode from the room. Kelly was panting and looked down at Anna, "Are you okay?"

Anna looked back up at her, "I don't know. I'm sorry I did that to you...he made me...but, I didn't want to stop. I'm---I'm sorry, Kelly. Please don't hate me."

Kelly sat for a moment. "Don't be sorry, Anna. Maybe you should come over my house sometime and we can try it without Mr. Dennings. That way we can have fun without being hurt. I don't think you're a sinner."

Anna smiled at the girl. She was sweet and didn't deserve to be treated roughly like Mr. Dennings insisted. "I would love that."



Sunday School Slut



Chapter 1

"I really don't feel good mommy. I really wanna go to the service today but I just feel so icky." Cindi pouted, putting on her best I'm-sick-and-don't-want-to-go-to-school-today face as she laid in her bed, her mother hovering over her.

"Well if you are feeling that terrible I'll stop by the drug store on the way home and pick you up some things dear." Sarah, her mother replied.

The tall, middle aged woman had her pale, white-blonde hair pulled up into a bun at the back of her head, serving to highlight the sharp, beautiful features of her face. She was wearing a simple, conservative dark blue dress and pearl necklace and her bible bag was resting in her lap as she sat on the edge of her daughter's bed.

Despite the conservative clothing that practically covered her from her neck down to her ankles, it couldn't hide the generous swell of her large breasts or her thick, shapely thighs and ass.

The woman had aged as gracefully as a barrel of whiskey and carried the little bit of extra weight well on her body. If anything, it gave her figure even more definition and made her even more appealing.

She leaned over and planted a kiss on her daughter's forehead before rising to leave. "Well I'll be back in a few hours. I'll be sure to bring back some soup and medicine for you dear."

Cindi merely nodded in reply, biting her lip as she slowly ran the middle finger of her right hand up and down her unbearably warm slit under the covers.

"Goodbye mommy!" Cindi smiled, giving a slight whimper as she shut her eyes as if to go back to sleep, her middle finger quickly sliding knuckle deep into her slippery, pink little hole.

The bedroom door shut and Cindi let out a little gasp as she furiously began plunging her middle finger in and out of her bald little cunt, her small pink nipples immediately hardening and pushing against the smooth fabric of the over-long pink night shirt she was wearing.

She was hidden beneath the covers, so if she heard her mom coming back down the hall or the door suddenly opened, all she had to do was lie still. It wasn't as if she could get caught, but the notion that she could be thrilled her none the less.

After a few moments she heard the engine of her mom's car as she started it up and left on schedule for the church just a few blocks down the road. One hand still urgently playing with herself, she reached over and fished her cell phone out of the drawer of her nightstand.

She let out a soft moan as the toes of her pink-sock covered little feet began to curl. Her finger twisted in and out of her cunt, juices dribbling down to her knuckle and thighs as she thumbed out a text: 'I need a snowball to cool off this hot teeny pussy!' She wrote, tossing the covers to the side as she took a snap shot of her glistening little teen cunt to send with the message.

The phone beeped almost immediately in reply: '5 minutes!'

Cindi slid her glistening middle finger from her gooey little cunt and brought it up to her lips, immediately sucking it down to the knuckle before pulling the digit out clean. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and leaned over, digging through her nightstand.

She removed an oversized table bible as well as the phone chargers, pocket book, makeup compact, spare lipstick and other items until the drawer was empty. 

Carefully, she pulled out her car keys and pushed one against one corner of the bottom of the drawer, wiggling the key into the seams until it gave and the false bottom of the drawer popped up.

Impatiently, she pulled the bottom out, setting it carefully on the bed beside her as she licked her lips at the sight of her debauched little treasure trove lying in her lap. The thin compartment contained a score of the dark dirty secrets that her pure-as-white-snow persona hid.

She pulled out a small, flat mirror and gently placed it on the board she had removed, using it as a tray as she laid out a small paper sleeve containing a pair of razor blades and a medium sized plastic bag containing several other various small sized baggies.

First she pulled out one containing a mixture of mostly white, different sized and shaped pills and laid it out, before producing a tiny clutch of cut up lengths of plastic straw. She fidgeted as she dipped a small finger into one of the empty baggies, scooping some of the residue off it before slipping her finger into her mouth and ravenously licking it clean.

She liked to use the hard drugs every once and while, usually combine with some kind of depraved sex act to intensify and round off her moody encounters. She had learned long ago that being discreet meant she wouldn't be able to smoke anything, cigarettes or otherwise. 

Alcohol was likewise smelly and could give her away, but those commoner's delights couldn't give the young girl what she needed. So the teen had turned to pills for her mood enhancement, and more recently the soft white cocaine which she was impatiently waiting for.

Cindi's little cunt tinged with an excited jolt as she heard the door at the end of the hallway open and shut. It was the door at the side of house, leading out to fenced-in part of the backyard where the trashcans were kept, and more importantly an access point where one could slip in and out without being seen from the street.

Her bedroom door opened and in the doorway stood the bulky figure of a chubby, middle-aged black man, her drug dealer Curtis. He was wearing a white t-shirt with some gaudy design and a pair of baggy shorts with some strange fabric design that couldn't help but remind of her a picnic table cover.

In any case, both were utterly ridiculous looking to her, it didn't matter if it was trendy or not, tasteless garbage was tasteless garbage no matter how you wrapped it up and tried to sell it.

"Mrnn just couldn't wait for yo' mama to get out of the house could you bitch?" Curtis asked, licking his lips at the sight of the pigtailed, nearly naked teen girl sitting on the bed a few feet from him.

She set the drawer down and skipped her small figure up to him, having to stand up on her tip-toes as she careened her face up, her bright pink little tongue flicking at his lips. 

He groaned and reached out with his large, thick hands, squeezing her tiny white ass as he leaned over, kissing the girl, her small hand reaching up to grip the outline of his now stiff cock and lightly squeeze it.

"Did you bring me a present black daddy?" Cindi asked sweetly, biting her lip as she reached up and innocently twirled her finger around the tight braid of one her pigtails.

"It's not a present bitch you gotta earn dis' shit." He said, stuffing his thick, pudgy hand into one of his pockets before producing a small, clear baggie containing a measured amount of fine, vibrant white powder. More than enough to keep her supplied for a while.

"By being a little white cock-whore?" She asked as innocently as possible, tilting her head to the side as she reached out, the fingers of her small hand gripping and kneaded the bulge in the man's short.

"Aww fuck!" He moaned, the skilled little hand groping him, he was afraid he would bust his nut then and there, such was the skill of her delicate young fingers.

Inwardly, Cindi sighed in annoyance as she kept up her cute act, kneeling on the floor in front of the chubby drug dealer as she tugged his garish shorts down to his knees, letting his short, and otherwise unremarkable hard cock spring free.

She still had a fat wad of cash in her dresser, from gifts mainly from her 18th birthday a while back. Not to mention her side jobs, recycling proceeds, schemes or just good old fashioned money she could cutely ask her parents for. 

She could just pay the dealer and have him leave, simple as that. But the triple thick fucking idiot always gave up more shit this way, his mind clouded by the barely legal pussy that still glittered like jailbait no matter what angle you looked at it from.

Her small hands gripping the small cock she marveled up at him, as if it were the fattest, meanest dick she had ever had the pleasure of sucking on, knowing it was far from the truth.

"Yea you like that black dick don't you little white hoe?" Curtis panted the words excitedly, one of his thick hands resting on the top of her little blonde head as she leaned over, running her tongue over his cock.

"Yeah black daddy, it tastes like a big chocolate candy bar!" She rolled her eyes, the view of her face blocked by the bulge of the drug dealer's gut.

Chocolate my ass! She thought he tasted the same way he smelled: like stale sweat and unwashed testicles with a light dusting of cheap cigarettes. Still, she wrapped her pink, glossy lips around the red tip of the short black cock and began enthusiastically sucking.

"Ahh yea! Yea bitch!" Curtis groaned hoarsely, his hand roughly pulling her head down as he pushed his thick hips forward, quickly jabbing his short cock back and forth inside of her mouth as she sucked on it.

Initially she wondered if it would be exciting fucking a black man or a latin man, or any other man outside of her race as the bible preaches so strongly against it, and of course the conservative society that she came from still looked down on it as a degrading taboo. 

So she wondered if it would be exotic and thrilling, and initially began fucking the dealer a way to find out. She was sorely disappointed.

Despite the taboo she seen people for what they were, people. Of course she had people meticulously filed away according to how useful they were to her. Even still, everyone served a role, regardless of color or stature. All the hype portrayed in porn about housewives having their worlds rocked by black men was just bullshit.

In her opinion those type of women were triple stupid. Not just for being ungrateful little swine who leeched off the hard work of their husbands but for being so stupid as it to throw it away for something they could have got a home or just efficiently from a white man without all the gaudy hang-ups and infinitely more discretion. But if those women had any intelligence to begin with, they would have been stronger and more self-sustaining to begin with.

She kept her mind from wandering anymore as she boredly sucked on the stubby little cock, saliva running down her chin in thin strands as she sucked fast and hard on the dick. Even as he pushed his hips into her, his fat hairy balls audibly slapping into her chin and bottom lip.

Cindi moved her small, soft hands up and down the dealer's thighs, warmly caressing his flesh. Spurring him on as he thrust faster and faster, letting out gurgling groans and incoherent declarations about how good little white bitches felt. 

She was glad he was enjoying the novelty of their mixed race, because she sure as hell wasn't all that excited about it at all.

She shifted a hand up and began to fondle his balls, lightly pawing at them as she slurped and suckled loudly. She felt his cock begin to swell, his bitter, creamy precum splashing against her tongue, letting her know that the first act of the chore that was servicing this fat piece of shit was nearly over.

Curtis groaned loudly, quickly moving his hips, his stomach jiggling with ripples as he moved the bulk of his body into face fucking the little blonde. "Aww shit! Aww shit yea!" He groaned loudly, his cock suddenly spurting out copious torrents of cum, his thick gooey load quickly filing her mouth.

"Aww take that black dick bitch! Urgh fuckin' swallow my nut!" Curtis panted the words, his belly jiggling under the tight white shirt each time she sucked on his cock like a piece of a candy, sending a sharp, shuddering jolt through his heaving form.

Once that she was sure that every drop was coaxed from his twitching, now flaccid dick, she leaned back and opened her mouth wide, starting up at him in innocent awe as if inexperienced and seeking approval as she showed off the thick white load of cum. She closed her mouth and with a single gulp swallowed it all before flicking her pink little tongue out to show him the task was done.

"Ah fuck girl you suck a mean dick." He huffed.

Now that she could see his face again, she noted that he had a fine layer of sweat glazing his face and the back of his neck, a result of the minimal effort he had displayed. That made her cheek twitch in annoyance.

It all boiled down to the fact that he was such a looser that he had to fuck school kids. 18 years old and a senior didn't matter, it still amounted to the same thing. 

Not to mention that drugs were offered in exchanged.

She pondered for the briefest of moments what it would be like to reach up and suddenly slice off his balls with a sharp pocket knife. And whether the sight of his squirming around on the floor squealing as he bled out would somehow make up for his numerous short comings. 

Then she shrugged, she had no idea where those thoughts came from and why, but often times her fierce, yet unforgivingly patient temper wandered her down those lines of thinking.

Speaking of lines.

"Did I earn some of my treat yet black-daddy?" She licked her lips looking up at him, her wide, bright blue eyes gazing at him as if he were the only man in her world.

Curtis blinked as if dazed, wiping some of the sweat from his brow before he reached into his pocket. Eagerly she stood, her eyes wide with anticipation. "Just let me get a line or two into me and you can cum in my little pussy as much as you want. Okay?" She asked, her small hand wrapping around his spit-sticky cock as she gently pumped it to semi-hardness, trying to keep him focused.

"Oh yeah fo' sho' baby, fo' sho'. " He pulled the small bag out and Cindi eagerly plucked it from his hand before turning in place, the curve of her small white ass sticking out of the bottom of the pink shirt, brushing against his cock as she turned and moved away.

She crawled up onto the bed and lied down on her stomach, her legs together as she openly displayed the bottom ¾ of her smooth white ass. Leaving it on display to keep him tempted and interested.

As the dealer undressed she poured out a small measure of the white powder onto the surface of the mirror before she urgently, but meticulously began to chop it into a fine little mound of white powder. She felt Curtis' hands on her, groping and kneading her warm ass and thighs but she ignored it as she shifted the powder into two thin, long lines across the polished surface of the mirror.

Quickly grabbing a straw with an excited, unsteady hand, Cindi brought it up to her nose, pinching one nostril shut as she quickly scraped the straw over both lines, inhaling deeply and sucking the tiny grains of powder up into her nose.

She gasped and snorted immediately, her twin pig tails flicking around as she tossed her head back, her eyes wide as the rush of the drug hit her. It washed over her completely in a matter of seconds and she relaxed, feeling her entire body warming as she hugged her pillow.

"Mmm that's fuckin great." She said breathlessly.

After a moment she turned, glancing at the nude black man behind her as he stroked his small, stiff cock with one hand, fondling her with the other.

"You can cum in this little white pussy all you want now." She said, hiking up the night shirt as she gripped her thighs and spread the supple flesh, fully exposing the soft, pink insides of her dripping cunt to him.

"Ah yea muthafucka." Curtis groaned, slapping Cindi hard across the ass as he clambered up onto the bed over her.

He wasted no time in stuffing his stiff cock into her willing hole, letting out a sharp hiss as it sunk balls deep into her, his entire cock swallowed by her warmth.

The dealer was too bulky to reach around or grab in any way, so she just hugged her pillow, closing her eyes as she pretended she was being fucked by someone else as the slob began rapidly grinding into her.

"Ahh shit black-daddy! Your big coco dick feels so great in my little white coochie!" Again she rolled her eyes, but the more excited he was the more effort he would put in it. With luck he could leave a load in her and be out the door before her buzz wore off, leaving her alone to actually savor it.

"Aw that cunts so fucking hot. You a naughty little white bitch!" He hissed, quickly moving his hips, his cock darting in and out of the silky folds of the wet, tight little teen cunt.

"Yeah daddy! Yeah daddy fuck me! Show this little white girl what a real dick is!" She bit her lip, grinding her hips slightly to the left with each thrust, causing the cock to brush nearer and nearer to her g-spot. 

With luck and no small bit of help from the drugs, maybe he would actually make her cum this time, saving her the trouble of finding something suitable to masturbate with after he left.

"Fuckin white hoe that little juice box is fuckin tight!" Curtis gasped, dropping his heavy bulk into her as he thrust wildly between her thighs.

"Cause I am a tight little white girl!" She cooed in response, milking him with the inner most muscles of her soft little pussy.

"Ah fuck! Ah fuck I'm gonna nut!" Curtis announced, moving his ass faster and faster and he sped towards orgasm.

"Bust inside me daddy! Fill my little white pussy!" She was on the edge, just a little more and she would cum too!

And her orgasm fizzled into nothing just as quickly as she had almost reached it when she heard a voice from the open doorway of her bedroom.

"What the hell is going on here?!" A male voice growled breaking up the revelry of the skin-slapping fuck-fest before it could conclude.

Cindi's bright blue eyes opened wide like a deer staring into the oncoming headlights that spelled its doom. Her entire body went cold and rigid even as Curtis pulled out of her and scrambled off the bed to his feet.

"Yo motha fucka I don't need you in here interrupting my shit!" Curtis stumbled angrily forward, raising himself to his full height, his bulk overshadowing the young man in the doorway.

How the fuck could she have been so careless? Her mother was at church, her dad gone an extended business trip as usual but Trace, her older stepbrother. Fuck! He was coming home for the summer from college, but it wasn't supposed to be for another week. If he had showed up early as a surprise, then it sure as fuck worked!

Trace was tall, just over 6 feet tall and his trim frame was well muscled. He had been skating on and off the ice as a hockey player since the first grade and the years of conditioning showed.

He had a short crop of jet black hair and his piercing, frost blue eyes stood out in stark contrast with the darker color.

"Get your clothes on and get the hell out of my house!" He growled, balling his fists into tight balls. "Did he attack you? Are you okay?!" He asked quickly, looking at his sister with a mixture of fear and concern for her as she lie there facing away from him, her eyes still wide with shock as the perfect little world she had created for herself came crashing down all around her.

"If you think he attacked me just because he is a black stranger in our home, that's really racist and shallow trace." Cindi mumbled and bit her lip.

"Yea muthafucka. I didn't take shit, your little slut sista gave it up fo free!"

The words had barely left the fat drug dealer's lips before Trace lashed out, the bulging knuckles of his right fist slamming hard into the side of Curtis' head near his left eye. The big man spun and fell to his knees, clutching his face in a daze as he shook his head.

"I'll kill you right now!" Trace growled, bolting forward with his fist raised only to be intercepted by Cindi who appeared in front of him and suddenly hugged his waist, pressing her warm, tiny frame against him.

"Just get the fuck out of here Curtis!" She snapped looking up to her big brother. "Thank you for stopping him!"




Sunday School Slut



Curtis blinked, still a bit dazed but managed to pull his shorts back on before retreating back out of the room and then the house as Cindi hugged her brother tightly, preventing his attempts to further maim the fleeing drug dealer.

Cindi's mind raced with sheer terror as she tried to figure out what to do. Not only was she caught with the sick, black fuck on top of her, but her little cache of drugs was laid out for all to see. He would tell on her no doubt, mom would find out and dad, dad would be furious. 

He would probably throw her out, or worse send her off to one of those reformist christian camps. Everyone would know the real her now, her schemes, her image it was all fucking ruined!

Unless... She looked up to her big brother, tears barely forming at the edges of her big, blue eyes as she hugged him even tighter.

Trace was a man, and all men were stupid and easily confused and controlled. All she had to do was figure something out, and quickly...

She shifted slightly and pulled away from her brother, turning to expose her partially covered little ass to him as she looked at the scraped up mirror and little baggies of prescription pills. "These things were his! He brought them and left them!" She said, bending over as she shoved the items into the open drawer.

Trace gasped as she bent over, her shirt hiking up over her ass to reveal the long slender legs and tender thighs topped with the slight curve of her petite little teenage ass, her pink little cunt glistening like a cherry on top of an ice cream sundae.

Hearing the slight gasp, Cindi grinned, her back still to him as sensed him taking the bait. Slowly she stood and moved over to him with a few slow, deliberate steps. "Th-thank you for coming in like that!" She said, tightly hugging him again as she nuzzled her small frame up against his.

"N-no problem. Are you okay Cid?" Trace asked. His pale cheeks flushed as he tried to push the amazing sight he had just witnessed from his mind.

"Me? What about you? You fought that big meanie! It was so cool, like one of those R-rated movies you see ads for on the t.v.!" She sheepishly reached down, pulling her brother's right hand up into both of hers.

"What about you? Oh my! You are hurt!" She exclaimed, gesturing at the red marks around his knuckles from the impact of the blow.

"Nah nothing forget about it!" Trace tried to shrug her off. He was confused as hell, first the guy fucking her, the little stash of drugs, and not to mention the most tempting sight he had ever seen in his life as his little stepsister had bent over, displaying herself to him. 

He just didn't know where the hell to begin.

"We'll fix your hand, if you couldn't hold a hockey stick anymore I couldn't forgive myself." She said as she moved his hand up with a deliberate slowness to her pink-glossed lips, staring up into her eyes with wide innocence as she softly kissed his swelling knuckles one after the other.

She pressed her body to his, her eyes actually widening in shock for a moment before she composed herself. She was trying to seduce him to some degree, confuse and delay him at the very least, but nothing would have prepared her for the feeling of the long, stiff bugle running down his left leg as it brushed against her bare thighs.

"Oh my Gosh!" She gasped, looking down to see the stiff erection straining against her brother's khaki cargo pants.

"I-I Uh I'm sorry!" He stammered and tried to pull back, but she held firm.

Slowly she reached out, her small hand clutching his shaft and giving it a small squeeze, pulling gasps from both of them as she marveled at how excited he had gotten so quickly.

"Did I do this to you big brother?" She asked, peering up at him.

"I ugh I didn't mean...You were bending over and I saw...I-" He gasped as she moved her hand delicately over the shape of his cock.

"It's a sin to fornicate... But just like that temptuous whore Eve this is all my fault big brother." She moved her hand down to the tip and gently gripped the head through his pants, gently twisting her hand in a side to side motion as she peered up at him.

"The Lord knows it's my fault. This sin is mine to bear because I caused it to happen to you. Just let me take full responsibility to absolve you..." She whispered, leaning her body into him.

He let out several soft gasps and sighs of pleasure but when he opened his mouth to protest she reached down with both hands and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one motion before discarding it.

Her pale, small perky breasts sprung into view. The milky skin of a revealing tan line contrasting her skin tones, the pale flesh making her little pink nipples seem all the more vibrant.

"I'm sure you've seen lots of these at school." She said rather dismally, slowly looking down as if ashamed.

Swallowing hard, Trace finally answered. "N-no. I've never seen a woman before..." He bit his lip, the otherwise big strong lad blushing fiercely now.

She kept her shock from displaying on her features at the revelation, and inwardly grinned like the devil as she realized how much easier this made her task.

"They're really soft." She said, clutching her stepbrother by the wrist as she brought his hand up. Pushing it firmly into her small breast, letting out a soft sigh as his fingers brushed the stiff, pink nipple.

"It's so warm!" Trace gasped, looking down at her, marveling at how innocent she seemed, even while doing such naughty things.

She moved his hand around, in a circular motion, letting out a soft whimper of delight as she used his hand to work her breast around. She let go of his wrist after a few moments delighted to see that he continued to grope her on his own, moving his hand in the same circle pattern as before.

"If you think that's warm..." She began, reaching down to grab his free hand before slowly dragging it up the insides of her thighs. " ...then feel THIS." She said, her cunt practically radiating heat at this point as she brought his hand up and pushed it against her slippery, aching mound.

Cindi smiled as Trace gasped again, and she too cooed cutely as his fingers played over the warm folds of her dripping little snatch. "That feels so good big brother." She whispered, slowly rocking her hips as his fingers pushed inside of her, his other hand still gripping her soft little breast.

Trace marveled at just how soft and warm she was, two of his fingers slowly pushing deeper and deeper into his little sister's pussy. He was surprised how her smooth muscles gripped him and pulled him deeper, yet at the same time let him glide his fingers smoothly in and out of her.

"Does it feel good?" She asked tilting her head up to look at her brother once more as his fingers quickly pushed back and forth inside of her.

"Yes!" Trace hissed in reply, clutching her small breast even harder as he continued to stuff his fingers into her hole.

"You know... There is something you can put in there that will feel way better..." She said softly, her voice just above a whisper as her small hands began to play with the front of her brother's pants.

"I don't know if we should..." Trace shuffled from foot to foot, entirely conflicted and unsure of what to do.

"It's okay... Let me show you." She said, slowly unbuckling the front of his pants, her fingers releasing the button before she pulled the zipper down with an audible slowness.

Her little fingers dipped into his pants, tugging them down slightly as she tugged his long, smooth cock free from its cloth, prison, her eyes widening a bit in surprise. She gripped the decent length of stiff sex meat with both hands, gently stroking the smooth white shaft as she took her time inspecting him.

The first thing she noted was the lack of hair on the red hot, tightly contracted balls as she softly ran her fingertips over it. He still had some pubic hair, but it was cropped very, very short and she admired it with a wry grin. What was the word, manscaping?

"You're so soft and clean down here!" She gasped, one small hand still rhythmically pumping his throbbing shaft.

"I read it in a magazine... It said girls would like it..." Trace admitted shyly .

Fuckin'a, Cindi thought as she gently tugged at his cock. She knew this was going to be the beginning of something wonderful.

She gently ran her thumb over the pink tip of his cock, watching it twitch and swell in response. "It's like a big pink lollipop!" She gasped.

Cindi wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees then and suck his dick like a ravenous whore, but she had bigger plans for her older brother and his delicious cock.

Slowly she turned her back to him and bent forward, pushing her ass and lifting it for him as she rested one hand on her left knee, the other reaching back to spread open her glistening slit.

"Do you think it will fit?" She asked, still managing to sound so sweet and innocent even as she dribbled tiny rivulets of excitement down her pale thighs.

"I don't know..." Trace took a deep breath, face and chest flushed as he gazed down at the little pink hole held open for him. He moved forward, gripping the shaft of his pulsating cock as he pressed the swelled tip against her warm opening, gasping immediately as he felt her velvety warmth.

Her eyes rolling up slightly with a shiver a delight, Cindi licked her lips, happy to see how fast he was catching on. "There we go that's the opening there..." She said, tilting forward ever so slightly, her hands resting on her knees as she bent over in front him.

"Now just push forward big brother." Cindi hissed with delight as her brother did just that. His hand resting lightly on her hips as if afraid to touch her, even as he pressed forward, his cock easily slipping into her ready and more than willing passage. 

"Oh yes!" He cried out. Once he had been a little bit inside of her, feeling the velvety wetness swallow him up, he knew he wanted more. He pushed all the way forward until he rested balls deep inside of her, a move that surprised even Cindi as she relaxed, enjoying the feeling of him pleasantly filling her.

"Feels good?" She asked tilting her head to the side as she partially glanced back at him.

"Great!" He hissed, awkwardly grinding his hips, every slight motion feeling incredible now that he was buried in her warmth.

"Now move back and forth..." She instructed, her palms digging into the soft flesh of her thighs as she remained bent over for his use.

Trace moved awkwardly for a moment, unsure of just how he should move, until he started to, that was. The feeling of her satiny walls gripping him and giving him pleasure told him all he needed to know. He moved back and forth moaning out quite loudly as he slapped his hips into his little sister's tight, tiny ass.

He moved faster and faster, finding that quicker he moved the more incredible it made his cock feel.

Cindi perked a brow, moaning loudly just as her brother was. Surprised at just how hard he was managing to pound into her, despite it being his first time with a girl.

She could feel the rush of warmth in her stomach, hopefully this time she would actually cum, just a little added bonus if she could get something out of it in the process.

"It's so good! It's so good!" Trace declared again and again, their bodies slapping loudly together, his fingers tightening considerably on Cindi's narrow waist as he plowed into her again and again.

"Yes big brother yes!" Cindi pinched one eye shut, her face distorted with pleasure as she found herself pushing back into him, matching his movements so her tight little cunt swallowed him up all the easier.

"I feel weird!" Trace gasped, moving faster and faster, his balls clenched like a fist as his first intercourse orgasm quickly mounted, threatening to blow.

"That means you are doing it right. Go faster!" Cindi gasped, her small, deep cunt twitching with pleasure, any minute now she would cum! The rush of pleasure combining with the drugs in her system washing over her, she was nearly in heaven! 

Just one more little push.

Trace groaned out loudly, the noises of their frantic coupling filling Cindi's ears as her eyes rolled back, her small body rocked with tremors as she squealed and came. Her knees quickly turned to rubber as mind altering, multiple orgasms ripped through her tiny frame.

She was sure she would have collapsed forward had it not been for Trace holding onto her tightly.

"Shoot it! Shoot it all inside of me!" Cindi managed to breathlessly demand, her cunt still throbbing fiercely from her orgasms as Trace sped up. His hips a blur of movement as he fucked his little sister.

"Argh! Ahhh!" Trace buried his cock inside of her, surprised as all hell as he had his first orgasm, and deep inside his little sister no less. His body jerked violently and he cried out through clenched teeth as if in pain, his heavy balls tight as his long, smooth cock erupted inside of her.

He shot load after load into her tight young pussy, her body greedily swallowing every drop that he produced, the walls of her tight cunt gripping the ultra-sensitive head of his cock like a gloved fist. "Ahh my god!" Trace shuddered, breathing quickly.

Cindi let a perverse smile creak over her features as her brother blew his load inside of her. It wasn't something simply looked down on or unspokenly agreed upon as being naughty. It was almost incest. It was a sin. It was fucking great!

Sarah's heels clicked softly on the cemented garage floor with a quiet echo as she stepped out of her car, dragging her bible bag and a small grocery bag filled with items she had stopped to get Cindi on the way home. She elected not to call when she stopped, hoping the give the poor thing a chance to rest up.

Gracefully moving across the garage to the door leading into the kitchen, Sarah swung it open and stopped dead in the doorway and then gasped in shock, dropping her bag onto the ground. "What?!"

"Welcome home mommy." Cindi said from the kitchen table where she sat beside her older brother. "Trace stopped by for a surprise visit." Cindi smiled, feeling her brother's cum seeping out of still throbbing cunt under the large robe she was now wearing.

"It is indeed! Oh sweetie welcome home!" Sarah smiled as her big, strong son moved up from his seat and gave her a warm hug.

"This is wonderful. I'll order some pizza for lunch, I am sure you are both very hungry." Sarah said, moving over to the counter to where the telephone and phonebook sat.

"Famished." Cindi said licking her lips as she looked her brother up and down, grinning. 

Chapter 2

"Shhh! We can do it in here, but if you aren't quiet mom is going to catch us." Cindi said as she looked out over the dark garage, a single light bulb beside the door providing light, and empty save for the boxes stacked along one wall.

Trace followed Cindi into the dark work room at the back of the garage, and once inside she pushed the door shut and flipped the lock, turning to flip the light on. 

The bright shop light came on in their father's workshop, illuminating Trace who already had his pants unbuttoned. That thick, beautiful cock already pulled freed of its cloth prison and bobbing anxiously for a taste of its little stepsister's pussy.

"Mmm damn cowboy, I think you are ready to saddle up." Cindi licked her lips.

She had just returned from school to find her brother already hard and waiting for her, so the two snuck off into the garage before Sarah, Cindi's mom had any idea she was even home.

As such, Cindi was still wearing the sickeningly puritan, christian girl's school uniform that was mandatory where she attended. It consisted of a very dark blue blouse with the most annoying puffed out shoulders she had ever seen on a garment. But the white ruffle trim around the cuffs wasn't so bad in her opinion. 

Not to mention the pink lacing...

With that she wore a uniformly pleated white skirt that was actually shorter than what was allowed by the school or the bible or whoever the fuck was actually in charge. 

It rode up her inner thighs, every movement giving a teasing glance at the supple curve of her tanned little teenaged ass. Or the high cut pink panties she wore over the white garters that held up her white, silk stockings.

The heels she was wearing helped boost the posture of her backside, her thighs and butt jutting out more than they should do to the lift. She shook her little teen ass as she reached under the skirt, wiggling her expensive, pink satin panties down around her ankles as she leaned over her father's workbench.

She flipped the little white skirt up to reveal her glistening little cunt, bald as the day she was born and throbbing with anticipation as she reached back with one hand, gripping her soft little ass and spreading her warm, eager holes open for her stepbrother to see.

"Come on cowboy, time for a ride." Cindi curled her finger, gesturing for her brother to begin.

Since their first encounter things had been hectic. It had only been a week since then, and her guess that controlling her pure, virginal brother had been right on the money. Her pussy was really good after all and she took pride in the way she used her body to get whatever she wanted, from whoever she wanted. Yet she hadn't really considered just how fuckin' crazy insatiable he would be.

She had to admit, nothing so far she had ever experienced quite compared to deflowering and fucking your stepsibling, and she loved it. But it seemed hard to keep him satisfied, he kept wanting more and more. At this pace they were fucking a good 4-5 times a day. 

When she woke up for school she would sneak into her brother's room and quickly ride out his morning wood before leaving to school, only to get ambushed and fucked again as soon as she arrived home.

Then while their mother would be cooking dinner the two would slip off to Trace's room for yet another quick fuck, only to conclude later in the evening after mom had gone to bed when Trace snuck into her room to give her a goodnight creampie.

It was really fucking up her sleeping habits and she was worried the time she had put aside for studying would get fucked off. But so far, she was managing.

Trace gripped the thick base of his cock as he moved in behind his little sister, unceremoniously running the pink tip of his engorged cock up and down her glistening slit, gathering a bit of unneeded lubrication before he promptly sunk it in.

"Ahh shit!" Cindi bit her lip, feeling her brother slide his cock all the way inside of her, his balls resting pressed firmly against her red hot little mound of pink pussy flesh.

Trace gripped her hips and began to move his own, fucking his little sister doggy style at a quick pace, their bodies slapping loudly together as he moaned out. His heavy balls slapped against her mound with each thrust, causing her to squirm as his warm testicles slapped against her throbbing little clit.

The sensation of his big cock tugging at the innermost walls of her tight, young cunt made Cindi shudder with delight. The pink, glossy tips of her well-manicured nails clawed at the workbench for purchase, her eyes lolling slightly back in her head as she bit her lip to keep from moaning out.

It was just so damn good... She could see herself easily getting addicted to this, and thus far being her brother's bend-over-bitch on daily basis had no compare, it was just fucking great.

Her smooth, flat stomach sucked in slightly over and over again as she squeezed her muscles around his cock, her pink, glistening insides wrapping snuggly around her big brother, pulling him in deeper and deeper and trying to hold him in. 

Each time that he pushed against her while she was gripping him only doubled the sensation of being fucked, the ridges of his large cock head pulling at more and more of her flesh that way as she gripped him.




Sunday School Slut



Trace suddenly sped up, their flesh slapping loudly together as he pounded away into her, the small girl crying out around a bit lip as she tensed and came. Her entire body from the top of her blonde head down to the tips of her curled up little toes tingling with delight.

She gasped for breath, her body slackening somewhat just as Trace groaned, bottoming out inside of his little sister's slippery cunt as he came. His cock twitching almost violently as he let out an unsuppressed groan of delight, pumping jet after jet of his milky seed deep inside of her. Filling her to the point that some seeped out around his unmoving cock that plugged her tight passage.

Cindi shut her eyes, breathing deeply for several long moments before Trace slowly pulled his softening cock from her well used little hole. She bent down quickly and pulled her pink little satin panties back up, trapping the cum that had begun to roll out of her in a light trickle.

Trace wore an expression of utter satisfaction as he leaned back against an adjacent desk, catching his breath. Cindi eyed him cutely and then squatted down in front of him, her little pink glossed lips immediately slurping her brother's slippery, limp cock into her mouth. Trace gasped suddenly, grasping the edge of the table as Cindi bobbed her head back and forth slowly before pulling back, letting his cock plop free from her lips.

She peered up at him with bright blue eyes and licked her lips and swallowed. "There you go. All clean. I'll go in first." She said, rising to her feet as she pressed her lips against her brother's giving him a quick, loving kiss before she turned and headed into the garage.

"Your face is all flushed darling, are you feeling alright?" Cindi's mom asked as she walked into the kitchen.

Sarah was sitting at the table, flipping through a magazine and enjoying a cup of tea. Her hair was tied up like it always was, in a conservative bun with a few stray strands hanging across her brow. She was wearing a simple black skirt and a cream colored blouse buttoned up to the neck.

Cindi sighed at that. Her mother was so repressed, it was a shame she kept her meaty DD cups caged like that. They could be a mighty formidable weapon if she took the time to master them.

"It was just warm outside; I'll drink some water and be fine mommy." She smiled as she moved over to the fridge.

"Hmm where did your brother get off to?"

"He's out in the garage packing his spare roller hockey gear to go down to the rink." Cindi answered, pulling a small water bottle from the fridge.

"It's so nice having him back isn't it?" Sarah asked with a smile.

"Wonderful." Cindi licked her lips. "I have some errands to run mommy, I am going to go meet one of my friends and then I will stop by the rink and come home with Trace."

Cindi moved over to the table and kissed her mother on the top of the head.

"Be careful sweetie, and make sure the two of you are back in time for dinner." Sarah called out as Cindi skipped out of the room.

* * *

Cindi wore an irritated expression as her thumb flipped open her glossy black cell phone, her gleaming blue eyes flashing from the time display and then back up to the entrance of the skate rink. The little blonde sighed; she hadn't had time to change her uniform, much less her panties before she left the house. And even now she could feel her brother's sticky seed like slimy glue causing her panties to stick to her flesh.

She shifted for a moment, her thighs rubbing together as she leaned against the safety rail outside of the skating rink. The huge rink had two tracks, currently one was in use by the Toy Box Killers, the local derby team as they skated through their psychotic training regimen.

"Move your ass Miss Kicks-a-lot!" The tanned, short haired derby captain called out. She was skating backwards at a blinding speed as she watched her teammates moving in an aggressive formation towards her.

The phone beeped with a new text and Cindi looked down, flipping the phone open again as she read the text. Be right there!

She sighed and looked up to the track and then over to her right, the other rink was used exclusively for sports, and currently Trace and some of his old school friends were having a fast paced, but friendly game of roller hockey as spectators watched from the rails and benches beside it.

Her gaze shifting back over to the derby girls who were finishing up their heats, Cindi didn't even notice the arrival of the person she was most anxious to see. A tall, slender asian woman, who had long black hair braided into a single tail which hung over one shoulder approached Cindi and casually leaned on the railing beside her.

"Ahhh Mara." The words rolled off of Cindi's lips with a seductive purr as she turned to look up at the older woman.

Mara cocked her head, her full, red painted lips stretched into a predatory grin as she looked over the young girl. Mara was middle aged, but her figure was still as toned and tight as a girl half her age due to daily runs at the track. The only hint of age showing in random lines near her eyes and mouth, and even then they were subtle and just made her exotic beauty seem even more dignified.

"So what happened exactly?" Mara asked in a hushed tone, leaning on the rail practically shoulder to shoulder with Cindi.

There was no one else around and that paired with the loud noises from the hockey game and derby practice, it was highly unlikely any passerby would hear their conversation.

"Well my dipshit dealer came over and I gave him head, then he gave me the shit. I did a couple of lines and thought I would let him have a little fun. Bastard really was dumb enough to think he was fucking me and not the other way around." Cindi rolled her eyes as she recalled the events of a week before.

"Yeah some people are just really stupid..." Mara echoed, rolling her eyes.

"Well I had forgotten that Trace was coming home from school. Not that it mattered really, except that he showed up a week EARLY to surprise everyone."

Mara snorted a laugh. "I bet you were real fuckin' surprised." 

"Mmm hmm! Well I was convinced that everything was going to shit. I mean there I was, legs spread, with this disgusting fucker on top of me. Trace hears the noise and comes to my room to find me like that. I guess he thought Curtis was some kind of robber that was raping me or something."

"How'd you get out of that one?" Mara asked.

"It wasn't too hard, I mean I froze and I was scared shitless of everyone finding out, it was a very compromising situation after all. Then one thing led to another and Trace ended up knocking Curtis right on his fat ass." Cindi sighed and rolled her eyes at the memory.

"Heh that bad huh? I mean Trace is a pretty mellow guy, kinda shy and quiet. But look him out there, with a stick in his hand he's a monster. He's use to dishing out punishment out there and taking it. Its why hockey players are typically in such great shape, all that conditioning..." Mara licked her lips as she watched the match still in progress, her eyes settling on Trace.

"Well if the fat piece of shit had been more preoccupied with pulling up his pants and getting out of there gracefully rather than shooting off his mouth, he never would have got the shit knocked out of him." Cindi sighed. "It could have been worse; Trace was ready to tear into him so I just tried to stay between them until Curtis wobbled his useless ass out of there."

"Well men are stupid Cindi you know that. I bet he added a premium to what he was giving you just for the inclusion of your tight little body." Mara frowned. 

"Men are so fucking stupid. That's why I stick to soft young things like you." Mara's voice had shifted from annoyed to a seductive whisper as Cindi felt the woman's hand brush against her warm inner thighs underneath the skirt.

Cindi's face flushed and she let out a soft, quiet sigh, opening her thighs wider for the older woman.

"Mmm don't worry, if you don't want to have to deal with primitive morons I'll more than happily keep you supplied. Seeing as I get this soft, young pussy for free already, the least I could do is charge you friend prices." Mara licked her lips, her well-manicured nails playfully raking at the warm flesh between Cindi's legs as she spoke.

The two looked ahead as they spoke, the closeness of their bodies masking any view as the woman felt up between Cindi's legs.

Not very long ago, Cindi had been in a class at school with Mara as the teacher. It was a hell of a year in which she had lost her virginity to the woman and picked up her coke habit, but that's a story for another time...

"Lunaaaaa!" Cindi heard a voice call out from her right.

She turned her head to see the tanned, short haired derby captain skating over to the entrance of the rink. She waited there as each of her teammates skated out, slapping each of the girls in the ass as they passed by her. Once they had exited the rink the nimble little captain hopped out and skated up to a pair of oddly similar looking blonde men who were standing together. 

Eh, maybe they are related? Cindi thought.

Luna, the derby captain, looked back and forth between the two men and then over at Cindi and Mara, tilting her head for a moment. Then, suddenly she lashed out, banging the two men's heads together before shaking her head and skating off. The two looked back up to Cindi and glared.

"I don't like all these gawkers. Let's go someplace more...discreet." Cindi said wearily, eyeing the two men as they headed for the exit with Luna.

Mara giggled and pulled her hand out from between Cindi's legs, bringing a moist fingertip up to her mouth to lick clean as she smiled. "Alright, we can finish our transaction in the ladies room."

The older woman turned, her shapely legs and ass were covered in a pair of tight black jeans, her chest hidden from view by a simple, zip-up red hooded sweat shirt. Even the simple attire couldn't hide the delicate features of the woman's body as she moved, her hips swaying subtly as she led Cindi into the bathroom.

Once the pair had made their way into a stall, Cindi reached up and locked the latch as Mara dipped a slender hand into her pocket and produced a small, heavy bag of white powder that fit in her palm. She held it up with one hand, and then gestured with the other, rubbing her fingertips together. "$300 for this much."

Cindi nodded quickly in agreement, it was a sizeable amount of drugs, easily worth a hundred or more than what she buying it for. Cindi produced three crisp new $100 bills and handed them over to her teacher who dropped the little baggie into Cindi's eager hands.

Mara pushed the money into her pocket and then pulled out a small vile of the white powder, licking her lips as she looked at Cindi. "A little something to hold you over, this one will be my treat."

With that, Mara reached up with her free hand and unzipped her sweater down to the navel of her flat stomach, fanning open the top to expose her perky breasts that were lifted up in a tight, low-cut, black lace bra. She unscrewed the little cap on the vial and tilted it, carefully tapping it with a well-manicured nail, causing some of the powder to sprinkle onto the upper curve of her left breast.

The fine white drug contrasted with Mara's bronzed skin and Cindi could barely contain herself as she dipped her head down, Mara's slender fingers moving back through Cindi's soft blonde hair as the girl eagerly snorted the cocaine off of her teacher's breast.

Cindi shuddered as she crinkled her face for a moment, the drug making her head swim dizzily as she swayed, wearing an expression of momentary stupor before shaking it off.

Mara smiled, using her grip in Cindi's hair to twist the girl's head around, her lips pressing hard into the younger girl's mouth. Cindi feverishly returned the kiss, parting her pink, glossy lips open for the woman's questing, probing tongue.

The pink satin panties that clung tightly to Cindi's bald little pussy quickly became damp, and seeming to pick up on just how quickly her pupil had been aroused, Mara dropped one hand in between them.

Her nails playfully ghosted up Cindi's inner thigh, causing her to squirm under the attention before Mara promptly pushed her hand into the soft, pink panties.

Cindi gasped into the kiss as she felt Mara's index and middle fingers slip effortlessly into her already dripping slit.

"Mmm your little honey pot is already gushing my dear." Mara licked her lips, moving her fingers quickly back and forth inside of Cindi before she moved her mouth down, kissing lightly at the girl's exposed neck.

Cindi was practically standing on the tips of her tightly curled toes as she squirmed under the intensely pleasurable sensation. She bit her lip hard to try to keep from crying out in the middle of the girl's bathroom, but she was having a hard time. 

She knew Mara was pushing all the right buttons to make her cry out, maybe even get her caught. And for some reason the added humiliation had her practically wetting herself with excitement.

"You taste so fucking good little peach." Mara purred in Cindi's ear, her tongue flicking out to taste Cindi's earlobe before softly biting it.

Cindi whimpered as she pushed her hips out, grinding against her teacher's fingers which expertly snaked up inside of her tight little pussy, brushing against all the right places to make her scream in pleasure.

"It's so good Mara!" Cindi gasped again, trying to remain quiet by biting down on her lip once more.

Mara's free hand shot up and she gripped Cindi by the chin, jerking the girl's head around to look at her. "What are you supposed to call me in private, little girl?" Mara glared at the girl, her fingers slowing in their pace and intensity as she waited for an answer.

"M-Mistress!" Cindi gasped, her cheeks flushed. "Mistress Mara."

"Mmm if we were in a more private setting I think you would find yourself bent over a bench, but as it stands, I will give you a little reward so you don't forget in the future." Mara licked her lips, her fingers curling up inside of Cindi to brush the upper part of her soft, young cunt.

Mara's fingers began vigorously rubbing back and forth against Cindi's g-spot, adding pressure as her thumb began to flick back and forth over the young girls clit, almost as if she were strumming a guitar.

Cindi nearly shrieked but barely restrained herself, the fear of being caught keeping her in check yet aroused her all the more.

Mara's fingers sped up as she stimulated both of the little slut's orgasmic nerve centers with practiced ease. As Cindi cried out again, Mara reached up and clamped her free hand over the girl's mouth, sliding two slender fingers into it.

Cindi sucked at the digits and continued to whimper and whine as Mara's lips pressed to her neck once more, lightly kissing her just behind the ear as her fingers furiously worked over Cindi's cunt.

The wetness of her young pussy was as audible as it was squishy, as the skilled, older Domina applied her skills. Cindi's head lolled dizzily from a combination of the cocaine and now the intense, forced orgasm she was about to experience. She tensed suddenly, her bright blue eyes wide as her body shuddered and she began to orgasm.

The girl would no doubt be shrieking like a banshee had the fingers not been gagging her, and Cindi's body tensed and quivered, her knees turning to jelly as Mara rubbed hard against the throbbing little bud of her clit. Causing the girl to experience intense, multiple orgasms that rocked her body and nearly made her faint from the intensity of the experience.

After several moments Mara ceased and Cindi's body went slack, she would have fell over had Mara not caught her and used her own body to pin Cindi against the wall of the stall. Her cheeks flushed and her face and neck kissed by a light patches of glistening sweat, Cindi struggled to catch her breath, hugging the woman tightly as she panted.

Mara pulled her hand up and looked at it with a smirk, seeing that she was wet all the way up to the wrist. "My, my, didn't you enjoy yourself?" Mara grinned and then paused, bringing the practically dripped hand up to her mouth which promptly began licking clean.

"Y-yes Mistress." Cindi uttered the words breathlessly. "T-thank you." She sighed softly, closing her eyes as she rested her head on Mara's shoulder. She really could just fall asleep then and there in this position but was careful not to, instead trying to compose herself and regain her breath.

"You're such a good girl. That's why I chose you to be my pet." Mara smiled, tilting her head down to kiss Cindi firmly on the lips, the young girl eagerly kissing back...

A few minutes with a compact and a hair brush in front the bathroom mirror later and the two women emerged from the bathroom, bearing no evidence of their tryst.

"Do you need a ride home?" Mara asked sweetly as they moved through the rink.

"No thanks, I'm riding Trace, er, with Trace later." Cindi said, shifting as she adjusted her skirt.

Mara perked her brow for a moment and then smiled. "Well not if someone else picks him up." She gestured with a subtle nod of her head and Cindi whirled around, to see Trace standing outside of the second track, the hockey game now finished.

He was standing with his helmet under one arm, his dark black hair and face slick with sweat. In front of him, wearing the same conservative uniform as Cindi was a young, pale-face girl with dark red hair.

She had her hands folded behind her back, seeming to squirm around shyly as she talked with Trace, her soft, beautiful features beaming with admiration. Cindi picked up on it like a bad taste in her mouth and almost felt the urge to spit as she narrowed her eyes.

"Isn't that Gwen Johnson?" Mara asked, cocking her head as if trying to remember. "She's in the same year as you, looks like she fancies Trace."

"Dirty little puck-slut is all she is. She's only trying to jump on his cock because he is the Captain. You don't see her on anyone else, just him. Typical fucking rink-rat." Cindi spouted venomously under her breath.

Mara perked her brow and narrowed her eyes at the way Cindi was watching the two, it was obvious that the concern displayed was more akin to a jealous lover than a protective little sister.

"Say little peach?" Mara licked her lips, a thought forming.

"Mmm?" Cindi asked without looking, her eyes narrowed on that little bitch Gwen Johnson standing some 25 yards away.

"Just how exactly did you get Trace to keep quiet about your predicament?" Mara asked suddenly.

Cindi felt a cold knot in her chest and her shoulders jerked and tensed visibly as she bit her lip, hard. Slowly she turned to face Mara, her expression nervous, unsure.

Mara grinned. "Well isn't that interesting..."

Chapter 3

Trace groaned as he gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles practically white as his body tensed. Each time he tried to relax or shift to get more comfortable in his seat, it only opened his body up to even larger dose of intense pleasure. 

He noted how Cindi looked perturbed and how she had remained silent on the ride home. But the moment they had pulled into the garage she had unbuckled her seatbelt and silently leaned over as she freed her brother's cock from his pants and began to suck it with a tenacious ferocity. 

Being a virgin until just recently, and even then not very experienced in self-pleasure, Trace was still overly sensitive to the intensity of most sexual contact. 

As such, he had trouble sitting still as Cindi bobbed her head rapidly up and down in his lap. 

Her pink-glossed lips glided up and down the shaft of his cock as she twirled her tongue around the tip. Wet streaks of saliva trickled down his shaft in sticky rivulets as she sucked and slurped noisily, keeping as much saliva in her mouth as comfortably possible to give him the wettest oral service possible. As a result, it was also the noisiest service possible. 




Sunday School Slut



"Ahh! Cid!" Trace gasped, trying to squirm away from the intense sensation of being sucked on by his little sister. Try as he might though, the seat beneath him was blocking his retreat; his attempts to pull back were only nullified as he pushed forward, his cock thrusting gently into her willing mouth. 

Cindi moved her head quickly up and down, she thought all the virginal squirming was cute, as well as pleased with the physical indicators of how well she was doing. But with all the squirming and the fast movements of her mouth, she was worried he'd squirm his thick, delicious cock right into her teeth as she moved down on him. 

She reached up and grabbed his right wrist, pulling it gently from the steering wheel and placing it on the back of her little blonde head, using her grip to make his hand push her head down forcefully for special emphasis. She was still pissed about that little bitch Gwen and how close she had gotten to Trace. She could smell the girl's cheap, fruity perfume on her brother even now as she sucked him off in the front seat of his car. 

To make matters worse, Mara knew about the relationship between her and Trace, she didn't even want to think about what would happen because of that in the future. For now, she knew Gwen would have to be dealt with somehow, but in the meantime, she would just have to remind her big brother that she was indeed the best and could give him everything. 

Her small hand reached up and cupped his heavy balls, rolling them gently back and forth in her palm as the spit trickled down his shaft and onto his balls, rapidly cooling as it descended. Her spit-slick little hands gently rubbed his balls, one gently gripping the shaft of his cock as it followed her mouth on each up and down motion.

To her delight, Trace got the message and gripped the back of her head, with a surprising bit of roughness as he pushed her down on his cock over and over again. She was thankful that the windows were rolled up and the inner door closed, he was making so much noise moaning that she feared they might be heard. 

Cindi could taste the thick, nutty flavor of precum dribbling into her mouth and she doubled her efforts. Her little pink tongue moved up and down on the tip of Trace's cock, her lips still wrapped tightly around his shaft, making her mouth air tight as she sucked and stroked him. 

"Now! Now!" Trace announced, but Cindi ignored him, sucking harder as her little hand rapidly pumped his thick shaft. She tasted more of his cum flow into her mouth before the tip finally flared and expanded. Her brother groaning loudly and bucking his hips upwards, fucking her wet, willing mouth as cum erupted from the tip of his cock and began to spurt out in thick, forceful jets.

Cindi moaned as she sucked and stroked, coaxing his cum up to tip of his cock which she tenderly sucked out, her lips and mouth working the swollen tip of his cock like she was nursing on his milk. 

She continued like this for nearly half a minute until he had stopped moaning and spasming. Now he sat, panting and drained of energy as she lifted her head from his lap, and looked up at him. 

She opened her mouth wide, letting him see the thick, frothy white mouthful of sperm she had collected before she shut her mouth and slowly swished the sperm around. Savoring the taste of it for a moment before swallowing it all in one big gulp, her tongue running over her pink lips as she licked them clean. 

"Mmm that tasted good. Thanks for the treat." Cindi said, reaching down as she carefully pushed her brother's spit-polished shaft back into his pants and neatly buttoned them back up. 

She leaned up and caught his lips with hers, his hands moving out to cup her face as they tenderly kissed one another, Cindi feeling a warm surge between her legs as she got a little light headed.

Slowly Cindi pulled away from the kiss and gripped Trace's hand, slowly pushing it down under her skirt, between her smooth, tanned thighs so he could feel the heat she radiated. "That cum tasted good, but I am thirsty for it down here too." She said, cooing cutely as Trace pressed his palm against her warm, throbbing mound. 

"But we could get caught if we do it out here..." Trace began, but Cindi gently pushed the tip of her finger to his lips, slowly inching her face closer to his as she whispered. 

"Not here silly." She grinned as she whispered, her face hovering mere millimeters from his, tickling him with her very presence. 

"Later, after mom goes to sleep. Just come into my room... I'll be lying face down in bed, just pull up my nightie, fucking me until you blow your load and go." She didn't have to grope him to know that her words had a positive effect, knowing her brother was now rock hard in his jeans and ready to fuck again. 

"S-Sure." Trace grinned sheepishly, his cheeks flushed slightly as he slowly kissed her on the mouth. 

Cindi half closed her eyes, savoring the moment as she pulled back and licked her lips, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "It's what little sisters were made for."

Trace remained in the garage to pack away all of his gear and take apart one of his skates that had a wheel that was locking up. Cindi walked into the kitchen from the garage, finding most of the lights off at the still early hour and shrugged before heading upstairs towards her room. 

After stepping off the landing at the top of the stairs, Cindi heard a strange, muffled sound and craned her head to the side, listening closely. She heard it again and stepped very, very quietly down the hallway, the silence nearly deafening as she crept along and found herself at the door to her parent's room. 

The door to the room was cracked slightly and Cindi slowly pressed her face to the opening and was greeted with the sight of her mother, Sarah on her knees at the side of her bed. 

Sarah was completely nude with her knees wide apart, the upper half of her body bending over the bed, her face down in a pillow which muffled the constant moans as Sarah gripped a dildo fashioned to look like a surprisingly realistic cock. 

The woman's face was pushed deep in the pillows, muffling her cries of ecstasy as she drove the long toy inside of herself again and again and again, each time pushing it from the tip down to the life-like balls at the base. Even in the pale light, Cindi could see the juices glistening on the toy and on her mother's pale thighs, and suddenly Cindi found herself squirming. 

She pushed one hand down between her thighs, pawing slowly at her cunt, the little blonde's eyes rolling back for a moment as she bit her lip to suppress a moan.

For no reason other than impulse, Cindi pulled out her cell phone and set it to record, carefully holding it up at the crack of the door, filming the frantically masturbating woman and snapping pictures in the process as she too rubbed herself. 

Cindi rapidly worked herself up to the very edge of orgasm and promptly stopped, her thighs quivering as she removed her hand and then adjusted her skirt. 

Between the cocaine, getting fingered by Mara and sucking off Trace and now this little sight, Cindi was well on her way to an orgasm that would knock her into the oblivion of a deep, blissful sleep. So, for now, the girl held it in, knowing a nice fat injection from her brother's cock would be all that she needed to have a mind blowing orgasm. 

"If you want dick that badly, I will see to it you get more than your fill..." Cindi whispered inwardly, licking her lips as she turned on her heel, the hem of her skirt flipping up as she strode down the hallway and quietly back to her room. 

The door closed and her little white pleated skirt and blue uniform blazer hit the floor. She slowly plucked open the buttons of her white blouse and dropped it on the top of the neat pile of discarded clothing before promptly kicking off her white heels. 

Clad in simple white thigh high stockings and a pair of high cut panties and matching bikini style bra, Cindi stalked across her bedroom with the calculated grace of a predatory feline as she padded over to her night stand. 

She bit her lip, her thighs slowly rubbing together as she sat squirming on the edge of her bed. She peeled off her bra and then slowly unfastened the suspenders holding up her thigh highs before peeling them off, finally removing the garters and panties. 

Cindi placed the small, but hefty little bag of coke on the top of her nightstand before she opened the drawer with the false bottom, carefully pulling out the rest of her paraphernalia and lying it out with the little baggie. 

Licking her lips again, Cindi looked around and then got up from the bed, moving over to the closet as she rummaged around finding a simple, very short, black see-through slip of a night gown that only reached the middle of her ass, not coming anywhere near her thighs. 

She pulled on the tiny, see-through slip of fabric and then went over to the nightstand, pulling out a well concealed little black t-back thong which was hidden among her regular underwear. 

She carefully pulled the tiny piece of fabric up her thighs and into place, turning her back to mirror on the closet door to check herself out. The little slip of a nightie was more for decoration than anything else; the panties likewise only there to simultaneously entice Trace and offer him ease access to her young, tight little cunt. 

Now dressed in a figurative layer of sweet, sticky honey to catch her fly, Cindi settled back down on the bed, sitting by the light of her table lamp as she carefully spooned out some of the white powder onto her mirror. Biting her lip, her cunt unbearably warm and aching with a sharp, needy throb, she began to cut the little pile of powder with a fresh, dangerously sharp razor blade. 

Dividing the powder into 4 long, fine lines, Cindi picked up her little length of cut plastic straw and placed it against the tip of the first line. She leaned down, placing the straw in her nose as she pinched her other nostril shut and breathed in sharply as she dragged the straw across the line, inhaling it all. 

Cindi tossed her head back, snorting as she sucked the lingering traces of powder up into her nose, her eyes pinched shut as her body shuddered, a very intense, mind numbing surge of pleasure sweeping her from head to toe, making her sway dizzily. With repetition she consumed the other 3 lines, each larger dose into her bloodstream making the effects more intense and dangerously stimulating. 

She looked down, seeing that the front of the transparent thong was soaked with her excitement, her sticky little honey pot red hot on the inside, insuring Trace would have nothing short of a heavenly time fucking her senseless. 

Cindi carefully put away her things and then turned off the light, lying face down on her bed hugging her soft, red little pillows. Her damp thighs were clamped together, her pert little ass and eye candy on display for Trace whenever he might show up. Cindi was blissfully high, her head swimming and her body tingling with perverse delight as she waited in the dark for her brother to come to her. 

Her mind wandered back a few hours to Gwen Johnson. The little cunt had been far too friendly towards Trace, and made her skin crawl. She felt the odd, not common, but certainly not rare impulse to cause great bodily harm to the girl, not unlike the psychotic fantasies she harbored towards the inept and retarded drug dealer, Curtis. Gwen had slighted her, and the little bitch would pay for it, Cindi would make sure of that. 

Cindi's hand crept down her stomach as she lie in the dark, the tips of her fingers rubbing at the soft, almost unnaturally warm mound of her little pink pussy as she fantasized about her revenge. Then for the first time, she realized what she had planned for the little bitch would not only be appropriate, but completely in the realm of possibility to carry out. The thought nearly made her cum. 

Wanting to save her reservoir of lust for one epic, earth-shattering release, Cindi pulled her hand from between her legs, settling with slowly grating her thighs together as she lie face down in the dark. 

She heard the silent click of her doorknob turning and opening, a sudden jolt of excitement rushing from the throbbing mound of her little cunt up to her head with such force she thought it would fry her brain. 

Still lying face down, Cindi bit her lip, trying to keep from squirming with anticipation as she heard the sound of Trace unzipping his pants, the quite noise seeming deafening in the silence of the dark room. 

"Oh wow..." Trace gasped quietly as he was greeted with the erotic display of Cindi's ass on display, the little t-back was just the wrapping on the sweet treat he was about to receive. 

A smile stretched over Cindi's lips as she felt his big, rough hands pawing at her supple young ass, a pleasant warmth swirling around in the pit of her stomach as she felt her pink little nipples stiffen to rock hard peaks against the soft sheets. 

As Trace's hands moved over her deliciously firm, tanned little butt, his finger grazed over her dripping wet slit, feeling just how red hot and wet she was. Trace merely gasped in surprise, he had of course been fucking her for some time now, but between the outfit and the pure animal heat she was putting off, well it was entirely different this time. 

Cindi licked her lips, wiggling her ass slightly from side to side as she heard Trace hurriedly pulling off his pants and boxers. The outfit she was wearing and lying still and quiet in the dark, it was all meant to encourage him to be more aggressive towards her. 

She did enjoy fucking him very, very much and even more so enjoyed the way he was almost insatiable, if he could just be trained to take the initiative, she was sure that she would be taken straight to heaven.

Trace mounted her, his hands tugging the flimsy little black string that was pulled up the slit of her cunt to the side as he eagerly and unceremoniously pushed the thick tip of his cock to her tight little cunt and forced it inside. 

Cindi's eyes grew wide and she pushed her face hard into the pillow to keep from crying out, her brother bottoming out balls-deep inside of her. His tight sack, hot with lust resting against the mound of her cunt as he began to grate his hips back and forth.

His hands gripped her tight little ass, spreading it open as he began to thrust roughly back and forth inside of her, biting his lip so hard it nearly bled as he tried to keep quiet. His thick, veiny cock throbbed urgently and he fucked her hard and deep, her cunt feeling incredibly warm compared to the other times he had fucked her, so much so that it felt almost unnatural. 

The position she was lying in, flat on her stomach with thighs clamped together made the insides of Cindi's cunt incredibly tight, giving them both that added jolt of extra pleasure. For Cindi, as her brother's cock tugged at her extra tight insides, the glove like grip of her cunt on his cock ensuring that she felt with great delight every curve, contour and vein in his stiff cock. 

And for Trace, the unyielding tight, softness of her cunt far hotter and wetter than he could begin to process. He had lost his virginity to her and fucked her dozens of times since, but this mix of new sensations was like the first time all over again. 

Cindi's perfect white teeth bit down hard into the plush red pillow as her eyes rolled back, the little blond restraining herself from screaming as she came violently. All the slow build up, the drugs, it all led to an insanely powerful orgasm for the young girl. Her eyes rolled back, her cunt clamping onto her brother's cock, causing him to groan and thrust harder and harder. 

She nearly went into convulsions and blacked out, which was the desired outcome she had anticipated. She just clung to her pillows, her eyes shut, her head swimming dizzily as her cunt gushed out over her brother's roughly thrusting cock and stained the sheets beneath them. 

Trace rode her harder and harder, Cindi's toes curling as his thick, delicious cock tugged at the velvety soft walls of her cunt. More than once she felt the tip of his thick prick brushing forcefully against her cervix, the sensation causing her to nearly lose what little control she had left. 

Trace pressed forward, his knees sinking into the bed on either side of her, really pushing his weight down on her, keeping her pinned to the bed as he began to fuck her much, much harder. Left to his own devices he was quickly getting comfortable with taking control, doing whatever he wanted without prompt.

With the sudden shift Cindi came again, her body shuddering violently as she arched up against him, driving his cock in to the base as she bit the pillow, little white spots brilliantly lighting up her vision behind her tightly clenched eyes. 

The intensity of the second orgasm pushed her over the edge, her cunt gushing a torrent of hot, clear fluid as she squirted - her body slackening as she lost consciousness and slipped off into the warm embrace of the darkness.

Cindi didn't open her eyes until the next morning, her bright blue eyes gazing vacantly at the digital clock beside her bed. She began to move and felt an immediate soreness between her legs, the result of the rough pummeling from the previous night. 

She noted too that her smooth, sore slit and thighs were both caked with dried sperm and her own ejaculatory juices. Trace had finished inside of and from the dried evidence, outside of her little pussy, the sheets a mess of their cocktail of combine love juices. 

Wearily, she swung her legs out of bed, her limbs feeling like they were weighted with lead as she fished around inside the bottom of her nightstand, pulling on a simple house coat that would hide her slutty attire and cum-stained visage. 

Briefly, she considered doing a line but then shrugged the minor urge off. She enjoyed the coke as an enhancement to other things, not just the drug itself. 

Besides, despite her soreness, her need for another warm shot of cum from her brother's cock already far outweighed her desire for some simple blow. 

Ponderously, Cindi made her way down into the kitchen, only to find the house empty. She frowned and narrowed her eyes as she glanced around. The 'family' car was gone; Trace no doubt had taken it and left somewhere. The thought annoyed her, and while she preferred a nice, stiff cock, she was more than capable of cumming on her own with just two fingers. 

Cindi's cunt throbbed needily and she sighed, pouring a glass of water before she glanced out into the garage, seeing her mother's car gone as well. Her eyes narrowed again and the little blonde stalked back upstairs to her mother's room where she began rummaging around in the nightstand. Her search bore the fruit of the large, flesh-like realistic fucktoy, no doubt her mother's darkest secret that now rested in her eager little hands. 

She held up the hefty little toy and brought it up to her mouth, her little pink tongue ghosting over her lips before she lashed her tongue out very slowly, dragging it across the shaft of the toy as she picked up the taste of her mother's pussy. 

A spark of inspiration set her mind ablaze with wicked ideas, her bright blue eyes narrowing as she gripped the toy tightly in her small hand. She couldn't put her finger on just what had made it so good, but her relationship with Trace had taken her to new heights of pleasure. If she could just incorporate their mother into the equation, she was sure it would lead somewhere wonderful... 

Sarah arrived home a short while before noon and headed up the stairs, humming softly to herself as she entered her bedroom. The voluptuous, mature woman stood at the foot of her bed, her small, nymph-like hands gently unzipping the zipper on the side of her long, black skirt. Causing it to cascade down to the ground and pool around her ankles.




Sunday School Slut



Next she removed her cream colored satin blouse and gently laid it on the bed, leaving her in nothing but a set of black bra and panties and a matching pair of thigh highs and garters. 

"Isn't that lingerie a bit racy for a housewife?" Came a voice from across the room and Sarah jumped, startled and then confused as she seen Cindi, leaning against the door of the walk-in closet. 

"Oh, C-Cindi! You startled me, what are you doing popping out on me like that? You gave me a terrible fright!" Sarah placed a hand on her chest, nestled between her very large, pale breasts that were held snuggly by the tight black bra. Her healthy, milky white skin contrasted beautifully with the dark undergarments. 

"You're wound up mommy, I think you need a release." Cindi stated simply, producing the large dildo from where she had been holding it behind her back. 

"Cindi! W-where did you get that?!" Sarah gasped, her pale cheeks flushing scarlet. 

"Toys like these can be fun." Cindi said, slowly licking the toy from the balls, all the way up to the tip of the life-like cockhead in one deliberate, fluid motion. 

"Mmm it still tastes like your pussy..." The girl giggled as her mother gasped, transfixed in horror and confusion at her youngest child. 

"As I was saying, toys like these can be fun... But I am going to show you something much, much better." With that, Cindi slowly stalked towards her mother, a sinister grin on her lips. 

Chapter 4

Trace yawned softly as he stepped out of his car, slowly stretching out his sore muscles as the large garage door lumbered shut behind him, leaving him in partial darkness. He walked over to rear of the car and popped the trunk, reaching in as he pulled out his hockey stick and his large sports bag which had all of his padding and equipment.

The door leading into the house opened and Cindi skipped over to him. Almost as soon as he could turn around to see who had opened the door, she was on him. Her warm mouth pressed against his as she pushed her warm, soft chest against his. Her small hands reached down, pawing at his rapidly hardening cock as she sighed softly against his lips. 

He was stunned by the suddenness of the act but responded instantly, his hands finding and squeezing his little sister's deliciously supple little ass. He was surprised by her attire, she was wearing just a little black bra and high cut panties with matching thigh high stockings. Something a bit unusual to wear around the house, especially if they wanted to avoid being busted by their mother. 

"Mmmm I missed you." Cindi purred as she broke the kiss, her hands resting on her older brother's shoulders. 

"I was only gone for a couple hours... And why are you wearing that around the house?" Trace asked, feeling his now painfully stiff cock twitch excitedly under the cloth prison of his pants. 

"This?" Cindi asked, leaning back slightly, one finger twisting around in one of her little braided blonde tails as she stuck her chest out, doing her best to play innocent.

"Yes... that." Trace hissed, his hands moving up to grope her wonderfully soft breasts, squeezing them firmly as he rolled them around in his fingers, causing Cindi to moan cutely in response. 

"I dressed up like this for you big brother. Don't you like it?" Cindi asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Oh I like it, I like it a lot." Trace bit his lip, barely overcoming the urge to throw her against the trunk of the car and fuck her right then and there. "What about mom? I don't want to get caught."

"Oh don't worry about Mommy, she is taken care of. In fact, we have the run of the house and I wanted to celebrate by playing a little game." Cindi said beaming an innocent grin.

"Mmm what kind of game?" Trace asked, still preoccupied with fondling her soft, perky breasts. 

"It's kind of kinky but I promise it will be fun..." Cindi licked her lips slowly producing a long piece of black satin fabric that had been hooked into the band of her panties. 

"I'm going to put this on you and then tie your hands behind your back. Then I will bend over the bed and you can fuck me as hard as you please. No hands though, you just have to use the momentum of your body. The blindfold will make it wonderful, trust me." Cindi explained, tilting her head up as she caught his lips in a warm, urgent kiss, her little pussy already throbbing with excitement. 

Trace sighed, nearly out of breath as he again fought back the urge to pounce on her then and there in the garage. "Alright, let's play."

"Clothes off cowboy." Cindi ordered, snapping her fingers for emphasis. 

Trace quickly peeled off his pants and boxers, his rock hard cock springing up and slapping against his stomach as it was freed from its cloth prison. He shed his shirt and kicked off his shoes, following his little sister's lead inside the house and then to the top of the stairs where she paused and turned back to him. 

"Alright, time to start." She said, gently tying the black satin band over his eyes, instantly obscuring his vision. She then pulled his hands behind his back and gently bound them together with a second piece of the long, soft satin. 

Trace gasped as he felt her warm mouth wrap around the swollen tip of his cock, sucking gently at it, her tongue slowly swirling around against it, causing him to moan out loudly. She worked her mouth slowly around his cock, taking more and more of his length into her mouth before pulling it out, leaving it glistening and slick with her saliva. 

"Mmm I would say that's about ready to slide into my tight little cunt." Cindi giggled, gently brushing her fingertips over her brother's tight, heavy balls. "Let's get into the bedroom, I am going to go crazy if I don't get a hard dick in me." 

With that, Trace felt Cindi's delicate hand close around his cock, gripping it as she pulled him into the bedroom, leading him by his rock hard prick before she gently released it. He could hear her shuffling around on the bed for a few moments before her hand gently gripped him once more. 

She gently pumped her brother's thick, meaty shaft, causing a hiss of delight to escape his lips. "Alright, let me glide you in and I am just going to lie here and enjoy it. Fuck me as hard as you want, as long as you cum, I am happy." With that he felt her plant a warm, wet kiss on the tip of his cock before he heard the shuffling again. 

Trace felt his cock brush firmly up and down against something very warm and wet, a sigh escaping his lips as he felt the tip of his cock teasingly push in and out of the entrance of Cindi's tight little cunt. After a few moments of teasing, she pulled him forward and Trace gasped loudly as his smooth shaft was swallowed up by the velvety soft, wet warmth between his sister's legs. 

"Mmm fuck it cowboy!" Cindi giggled, the slick, slippery walls wrapping firmly around Trace's cock. 

"So good!" Trace hissed as he rocked his body back and forth. It was odd not being able to see and touch her, but being unable to grab her hips as he slammed into her from behind gave him the most incredible sensations as he thrust into her at angles he wouldn't be able to if he were grabbing her hips. 

His cock plunged deep inside of her, again and again, his hips slapping into the soft curve of her ass, her warm flesh grating against his as he breathed hard. He pushed forward again and again, her pussy incredibly wet, if not wetter than usual as they played the kinky game. He couldn't help but note just how tightly she flexed her muscles too, as if she were trying to push him over the edge as quickly as possible. 

"It's so good inside of you Cid!" Trace declared, his body on fire with lust as he awkwardly pushed his body back and forth, trying to fuck her harder and harder as she bent willingly over the edge of the bed for him. 

"Fuck me big brother! Fuck me with your big dick!" Cindi hissed and again he sped up. 

He savored the warm, sticky juices coating his cock and trickling gently down onto his tight, heavy balls as he fucked her. Cindi was just incredible and always knew just how to make him feel so amazing. He felt his balls tightening, rapidly nearing his limit as he roughly thrust forward again and again. 

"Ahh! I'm almost there!" He gasped, moving faster and faster. 

"Tell me when! I want to give you another surprise so say when!" Cindi gasped breathlessly in reply. 

Trace felt a swirling heat in the pit of his stomach, his balls clenching tighter as his thick cock swelled up inside of her. "N-now!" He declared suddenly. 

He felt a tug on the back of his head as the knot in the blindfold was tugged loose, the black cloth slipping from over his eyes to present him with the sight of his mother with her knees on the edge of the bed, her ass in the air as he was buried balls deep inside of her. 

"Look, you're fucking mommy!" Cindi whispered into Trace's ear as she pressed her small body to his from behind. She was now braless and her warm breasts pressed against the middle of his back while he could feel the intense warmth radiating from between her legs pressed against the back of his thigh. 

He was shocked and confused but couldn't stop what was already set in motion. He came hard; his cock gushing forth a massive torrent of cum almost violently as it spurted again and again, pumping his thick, creamy sperm deep into his mother's well-fucked pussy. 

"Yess!" Cindi hissed excitedly, keeping her body pressed to Trace's back as she pushed him forward, his hips still willingly moving on their own as he continued to grind against his mother's cunt, a powerful orgasm washing over him from head to toe as he growled out with delight. 

After several long moments, Trace finally gave out and slumped forward, heaving for breath as he lay across his mother's back, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of her. He could felt her walls clenching gently again and again, skillfully coaxing out ever last drop of cum from his now super sensitive shaft, the sensation of being gently milked by his mother's cunt was enough to cause him to shudder with delight. 

Trace was breathing hard, his eyes shut as their mother too breathed hard around the gag in her mouth. Trace opened his eyes slowly and glanced up, seeing a pair of ropes leading from the headboard down to their mother's crossed wrists, binding her in place where she bent forward on her knees and elbows. 

"How did it feel, cumming inside of mommy?" Cindi cooed, her small hands gently brushing over her brother's chest, gently caressing him as she kept her body pushed up against his. 

"Wha-what the hell?" Trace asked, his senses muddled by the extremely powerful orgasm that still left him numb and tingling. Slowly though, he came to his senses, seeing his prick buried between the bright pink folds of his mother's slippery cunt, her plush, round ass pressing against his hips. 

Her cunt was still flexing, and her pale cheeks were flushed as she breathed hard through the gag pushed between her dark, cherry colored lips. 

"Mommy is a slut and she needed this. All you did was to help her out." Cindi lashed out, slapping her mother's deliciously plump backside hard, leaving a bright pink handprint on her pale flesh. "Isn't that right slut?" 

To Cindi's delight, Sarah replied by pushing her hips back against Trace. She slowly shook her soft, shapely ass from side to side, her cunt milking her son's still diamond hard cock which caused him to moan out quite loudly. 

Trace was just shocked and at a loss for words. He felt strange, dirty, yet at the same time, warm, safe and an intense orgasmic high that tickled his entire body. Before he could open his mouth to protest, Cindi climbed up onto the bed and sat with her knees up near her mother's head, bending over the woman as her hands darted out, grabbing her mother's ass and spreading it wide open. 

"She has such a round, soft ass. And she doesn't mind taking cock in this hole." She said, holding her mother spread open, displaying her bright pink, glistening asshole to her older brother. 

Trace felt his cock jerk as it stiffened up even harder, blood pumping furiously through the veins of his engorged shaft, making it pulsate pleasantly inside of Sarah's cum-filled cunt. He looked down at the pink, visibly throbbing asshole, his heart racing with the thought of pushing his cock inside of it. As he watched, Cindi grinned and winked at him, leaning down as she flicked her tongue out, lapping gently at their mother's tight, pink pucker. 

"Trace has never fucked up the ass before, so I guess you are getting a special treat mommy, you should be thankful." Cindi said, flicking her tongue out again as it danced circles around her mother's tight, pink rim. 

Trace reluctantly slid his cock out of Sarah's pussy, a small torrent of the cocktail of their combine juices spilling out and rolling down her already glistening, puffy pink lips. Cindi leaned forward and slurped the head of her brother's cock into her mouth, ravenously bobbing her head up and down as she sucked it deep into her mouth. The mixture of their juices tasted delicious on her tongue and she eagerly slurped more and more of him into her mouth to savor the delicious treat.

Sarah wiggled her hips around, moaning into the gag as she shifted around on the bed. Cindi pulled her brother's glistening shaft from her mouth with a loud 'plop' and then reached out, gripping him hard at the base as she gently rubbed the swelled, purple tip of his throbbing prick against their mother's unbearably warm asshole. 

Trace hissed, watching fascinated as Cindi used the tip of his cock to tease their mother's backdoor. 

Cindi licked her lips and gently pushed the tip of her brother's cock against their mother's asshole, slowly pushing it forward until the thick tip was swallowed by her bright pink hole, causing Trace to gasp in delight. Trace reached out, putting his hands on his mother's waist as he began quickly pushing back and forth, watching with almost fevered excitement as his cock slid in and out of his mother's tight little asshole. 

"Slow and steady so you don't hurt her. Once she is warmed up, fuck the whore as roughly as you'd like." Cindi instructed, spitting on her brother's cock and then watching as his thick shaft pushed the lubricant into Sarah's tight asshole. 

Sarah's hole stretched wider and wider around Trace's cock, much to his delight as he watched her flexible, velvety-pink hole swallow him deep with almost no effort at all. A few slow, exploratory thrusts were all Trace could tolerate before he began wildly pumping his hips. Quickly he was balls deep in his mother's ass, his swelled, tight sack slapping against his mother's slick, cum-dripping cunt as he cried out with pleasure.

Her pussy had felt wonderful, but her velvety soft asshole was simply marvelous. Trace marveled, wide eyed as he pounded his mother's plush, round ass, lost in the sensation of his cock sinking into her slippery, incredibly hot hole. "This is so much better than a pussy!" Trace exclaimed breathlessly, roughly fucking Sarah who groaned and moaned into her gag almost continuously as she was roughly fucked by her son's big dick. 

Cindi narrowed her eyes and growled softly as she spoke. "You better watch whose pussy you are talking about or you may never get it again." 

"S-sorry!" Trace quickly offered, his hips roughly slapping into his mother's plump, delicious ass, their flesh clapping loudly with each impact. 

"Fine, I'll let it slide... This time." Cindi pouted for a moment and then leaned forward, slapping their mother hard on the ass as she tilted her head up and kissed Trace fiercely hard on the lips. 

Her little tongue brushed against his lips as she reached up and gently pinched his nipples, tweaking them back and forth which caused him to moan loudly as he continued swiftly moving his hips. 

Slowly Cindi trailed kisses over his well-muscled, bare chest and up to his neck, gently trailing up to his ear which she nipped firmly at before softly whispering. "Cum for me. I want you to cum deep inside of her now!" Cindi's fingers pinched Trace's nipples a little harder and he groaned bucking his hips faster and harder. 

"Cum now! Cum for me and fill this stupid bitch with your hot cum! Come on! Squirt your cum into mommy's ass!" Cindi order, pinching his nipples much, much harder. 

"Ahhh!" Trace groaned loudly and Sarah tensed beneath him as Trace's body shuddered violently, his hips ramming into her ass as he ground against her; his cock spurting thick torrents of his white cream cum deep up his mother's ass. 

Cindi only giggled as Trace half collapsed over Sarah's backside, his chest heaving as his thick cock throbbed violently inside of her, dribbling a constant stream of creamy white cum into her tightly clenched little hole as he struggled for breath. 

"Mmm you're as much of a sodomite as mommy, Trace." Cindi grinned, kissing her brother gently on the lips. "Don't worry though; you'll get plenty of time to explore her body... I have a feeling we're going to get a great deal of use out of our new toy..."

Cindi's lips stretched into a thin, almost evil grin.

Chapter 5

Cindi batted her eyes open and let out a soft yawn as she stretched out cat-like in her bed. The little blonde sighed and turned to glance at her nightstand, her smile quickly turning into a scowl. It was already 7am, and by now, Trace had usually already snuck into her bedroom for wake-up sex. 

His sexual desire was so constant and reliable, that she stopped setting her alarm clock before bed. This was the first time that Trace had failed to sneak into her room, and she found that she had overslept a bit. 

"He's probably just in the shower..." Cindi mused as she kicked the covers off of her nearly naked form. She was wearing a simple pink baby doll t-shirt that was about a size too big. She wasn't wearing panties now, she had stopped putting them on at night to make it easier for her always eager, older brother to mount her first thing in the morning. 

The bald mound of her tight, teen cunt was already very warm, and more than a little ready for her brother's cock, but nevertheless, Cindi opened her thighs and pushed her hands between her legs. She licked her lips and let out a gentle sigh as she slowly pressed the middle and index finger of her right hand against her warm little mound and slowly began to massage it. 

I'm going to make my pussy so warm and wet that he'll explode as soon as he sticks it in me! 

Cindi shuddered at the thought of her brother and his big, stiff cock pumping her full as she rubbed her fingers firmly in a circular motion against her clit. Her little pink nipples were stiff and pressed against the soft, cotton fabric of the baby doll as she enthusiastically rubbed herself. 

"Fuck me, big brother!" Cindi gasped softly as he bit her lower lip, her fingers pressing much, much more firmly into her warm, sensitive flesh. Her tight, tiny little ass lifted slightly up off of the bed as she rocked against her fingers, her breaths coming in hot, quick gasps and pants as she felt a warm surge of heat wash over her body as her orgasm quickly approached. 

Cindi let out a hiss as she stopped moving her fingers, her body shuddering as her head swam dizzily with pleasure. She was right on the edge of cumming, all she needed now was Trace to spear her nice and hard and she would have the blissful release of her pent up desire. 

Licking her lips slowly, Cindi turned and faced the alarm clock on her nightstand, and frowned. She had been playing with herself for nearly 15 minutes, and she was cutting it awfully close to being late for school if she was kept waiting much longer. 

With an irritated sigh, Cindi swung her legs out of bed and rose, tugging down the hem of the pink baby doll as she walked over to her bedroom door and cracked it open, poking her head out into the hallway. She perked a brow at the sight of Trace's open bedroom door, but seen that he was not in bed, and the adjacent bathroom door was open, the bathroom empty as well.




Sunday School Slut



"Mother fucker." Cindi sighed, her little teen cunt impatiently tingling for the release that was so near. She entertained the thought of going back into the room and finishing herself off with two fingers, but quickly discarded the thought as she headed for the stairs leading down into the living room. 

Padding silently down the steps, Cindi rounded the bottom of the stairs, turning away from the empty living room and into the kitchen. Her dark blue eyes widened as she gasped. "Mother fucker!" 

Cindi's jaw hung open as if she were about to speak, but simply couldn't muster the ability as she was faced with the sight of her nude mother, bent over a partially set table and moaning quite loudly as Trace fucked her from behind. 

Cindi could hear, as well as smell the sausage still sizzling in the unattended pan on the stove as her mother cried out in pleasure. Her mother's simple, sky blue bathrobe was pooled at the floor between the woman's feet which were wide apart. Her hands clutched the edge of the table as she constantly moaned like a whore in a heat, the dishes rattling as the table shook under the impact of each thrust. 

Trace was wearing just a black t-shirt, the one he always slept in, and he was wearing the most perverted expression of pure ecstasy on his face as he roughly pounded his mother's thick, pale ass. 

He held his moaning mother from behind, his hands on waist as he drove his hips into her with an almost animalistic aggression, her soft flesh rippling under the impacts of his body slamming into hers. 

Sarah moaned as her son spread open her ass, Trace hissing and panting each breath as he watched his thick, glistening cock slide effortlessly back and forth inside of his mother's bright, pink little asshole. He gasped as he watched, marveling how it stretched so wide to allow his cock to slide in, yet remained nice and tight as he fucked her. 

"Your ass is incredible!" Trace gasped as he speared his cock deep into Sarah's tight, incredibly soft ass. The flesh jiggled ever so slightly as he wildly drove into her again and again. 

"More! Fuck mommy more!" Sarah gasped, her mouth hung open as she moaned continually as she was fucked hard by Trace. It was her first cock in years, and she had only penetrated her ass using a toy, before Trace had taken her ass cherry the night before at Cindi's urging. And it felt simply amazing.

Cindi felt a jolt of pain in the center of her chest, a pain that gave way to the heavy feeling of betrayal as he watched Trace fuck their mother so enthusiastically. Despite this, she bit her lip, one hand idly clutching her left breast and softly kneading it as the other hand pushed beneath the hem of the short, pink baby doll as she pushed two fingers knuckle-deep inside of herself. 

Their bodies slapped audibly together, Trace groaned almost continuously in pure ecstasy, sweat dripping from his forehead onto his mother's back as he watched her pink, velvety hole swallow his cock down to the base. 

Her cheeks flushing pink, Cindi stifled a moan as she rapidly rubbed her thumb back and forth and over her tingling, throbbing clit as her middle finger slid knuckle-deep into her slick, pink depths. Her hand tightened around her soft, supple breast, her fingers enthusiastically kneading it like a ball of soft, delicate dough. 

A hot gasp escaped her lips as she instinctively pushed her hips out, grinding against her own hand as she slumped against the doorway, masturbating furiously as she watched Trace fuck their mother. Cindi's fingers dug into her soft breast, clutching it tightly as he satiny, pink little cunt began to quiver and tense. 

Her little pink-painted toes curled tightly, her mouth hung open in a silent cry as she came, her body shuddering as it was drown with pleasure, her head and senses dulled by the warm haze of her intense orgasm. 

The sound and the speed of the couple fucking bent over the table increased, Trace gritting his teeth as he groaned, Sarah practically panting like a bitch in heat as she was fucked by her son - the two quickly working their way up towards an intense, mutual orgasm. 

Sarah's plush, red lips parted and let out a sound closer to a squeal than an actual moan as she gripped the edge of the table, her slippery, pink asshole clamping around Trace's cock as he thrust relentlessly into her. 

Trace announced his orgasm with a throated grunt as he buried his cock balls-deep inside of his mother's soft, invitingly deep ass. He half-bent over her, his hands squeezing her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh so hard it was sure to leave bruises as he came hard inside of her. 

His mother cooed like a docile little teenaged whore as Trace's thick cock powerfully spurted its thick, creamy load into her ass, filling it up to the brim. 

Cindi's eyes narrowed into a pair of little slits as she glared at the oblivious pair as she carefully pushed herself off of the doorframe and disappeared back into the hallway. 

"Stupid cunt." Cindi hissed under her breath as she headed back to her room to change. 

***

As the day went on, Cindi's mood hadn't improved in the slightest. She had sent an irritated text to Mara who pulled Cindi from her 5th period class, under the pretense that Cindi was needed to perform student council duties. 

It was a common enough situation that it didn't raise any questions, and Mara was a student advisor in the ASB so pulling her from class wouldn't cause anyone to raise a brow. 5th period was also the period right before senior lunch, so it gave the pair roughly two hours of freedom to do whatever they wanted.

"No surprise there, anal sex does feel really good after all." Mara commented, after Cindi had briefly explained her brother's new found butt lust. 

The pair was sequestered in an empty classroom in the corner of the third floor, the door was locked, not that it mattered as they were virtually alone together. 

Cindi was wearing her school's uniform, and the little white pleated skirt rode up over the supple curve of the little blonde's tight butt, giving her teacher an unobstructed view of the nearly transparent, baby blue panties that the girl was wearing as she pinched a nostril shut and quickly snorted a line of coke from the surface of the table. 

Mara licked her lips as Cindi tossed her head back, snorting sharply once more as she felt the potent drug trickling down the back of her throat - the taste was bitter, but sensation nothing short of exquisite for the young girl. 

"Well you know, there really is only one solution..." Mara purred, her left hand moving out as she brushed it against Cindi's thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. 

Cindi's body immediately responded as she began to fidget and squirm, lightly biting her lower lip as she felt Mara's hand move high up her inner thigh. "What would that be?"

"Fire with fire, so to speak. You want Trace to have eyes for only you, then you need to give up your cute, tight little butt." A predatory grin stretched over Mara's lips as she moved her hands up over Cindi's tight, panty covered little ass, giving it a soft, two-handed squeeze. 

"You're so young, soft, and tight. Once you open your tight little hole up a bit, your mother will be no competition for you, and Trace will be eating out of the palm of your hand." 

"I don't know anything about anal though, I've never tried it." Cindi frowned, sighing softly as she pushed back against Mara's groping hands. 

"Oh I suppose I could teach you, for a price." Mara grinned. 

"Price?" Cindi asked, perking a narrow, blonde brow. 

"There is a little party this weekend, a very grown up party if you catch my meaning. I think it would be wonderful if you showed up with Trace... For now though, bend over the desk, little kitten."

Cindi mulled it over for a moment and silently complied, licking her soft, pink lips as she leaned over the desk, pushing her narrow hips up into the air for Mara.

"Mmm, good kitty." Mara purred as she pushed Cindi's little white skirt up, hooking her fingers into the bands of Cindi's baby blue panties before peeling them down to the girl's knees. 

Mara licked her lips at the tight of Cindi's completely smooth, hairless little mound, her light pink slit already glistening with excitement and radiating her delicious heat. 

"Now, just try to relax." Mara instructed as she spread open Cindi's soft, pale cheeks, exposing tight, puckered ring of the young girl's sweet, virgin hole. Lending no time to foreplay, Mara pushed her face into the girl's ass, her tongue rapidly lapping up and down Cindi's tasty little ass. 

"Ahhh!" Cindi gasped, clutching the edge of the desk as Mara gripped the backs of her thighs, holding her still as she enthusiastically rimmed Cindi's tight little ass. 

Her delicate, pink hole was incredibly sensitive, Cindi cooed and squirmed almost constantly under the oral attention, and Cindi had to bite the sleeve of her uniform coat to keep from crying out with sheer delight. Mara's tongue swirled around and around Cindi's tight pink hole, pushing firmly against it as she skillfully lapped her tongue against it. 

"Jesus!" Cindi hissed as she felt the tip of Mara's tongue dig into her puckered, pink opening. 

Mara licked her lips as she pulled back and spread Cindi open, spitting into the blonde's little fuck hole as she grinned. "Now the key is my dear..." Mara said as she ran the tip of her finger up and down against Cindi's asshole, watching the tiny pink hole wink excitedly in response. 

"Don't hold your breath, take a deep breath and slowly breathe out as you are being penetrated and it will slide right in." Mara said as she suddenly pushed the tip of her middle finger into Cindi's well lubed little hole.

"Ahhh damnit!" Cindi gasped again, her vibrant blue eyes widening as Mara slipped her finger, knuckle-deep into her warm, well-prepared hole. "It feels weird... Good, but weird!"

Cindi squirmed around as Mara twisted her finger around, pushing it slowly in and out as her velvety soft, pink insides clung to the digit, squeezing it, pulling it in deeper. 

"Mmm, you're responding nicely... I'm going to put something bigger inside of you. If you stay plugged for a day or two and keep toying yourself, you'll be taking cock in no time at all."

With that, Cindi felt something warm and wet grinding against her asshole, slowly, Mara pushed the tip of a slender, black latex butt plug into Cindi's ass. 

"Ahh! Its stretching me!" Cindi wiggled her hips as Mara pushed the toy forward, pausing only to give Cindi's ass a sharp slap. 

"Hold still or you'll tear!" Mara scolded her. "Now take a deep breath, and exhale like I told you to do." Mara didn't wait for Cindi and slowly began pushing the toy back into the teen girl's tight, white ass. 

Cindi bit her lip, and exhaled sharply as the narrow tip of the toy slid slowly into her. The narrow tip gave way to the broader middle of the toy which stretched out her little pink ring as it quested deeper and deeper inside of her.

"One more deep breath." Mara urged as she pushed her palm against the flat end of the little black butt plug and slowly pushed it inside. Cindi hissed and let out a soft squeal through her clenched teeth as her little pink hole swallowed what remained of the plug, her tight pink little hole closing around the thin, tapered shaft. 

The flat base of the plug rested flush against her supple white ass, and the little blonde squirmed around as her insides adjusted to being filling by the soft, latex toy. 

Just then, the warning bell for the end of the lunch period sounded, and Mara grinned devilishly at Cindi as she quickly pulled the girl's panties up over her plugged ass. "Get used to it. Wear it until you get home, then pull it out and relube if you must. I trust you'll know when you're ready to give up your ass cherry. In the meantime, relax, and get to class."

"Thanks." Cindi said, her cheeks slightly pink as she adjusted her skirt and picked up her bag before walking out of the room, awkwardly shifting from side to side as she tried to get use to the feeling of the plug inside of her. 

Cindi made her way to her next class, and was barely in her seat before Mara entered the room and moved to the small podium in front of the blackboard. 

"Miss Redding had something come up, so I will be subbing for you all this period."

Mara turned and picked up a black marker, writing the words Ms. Kusanagi across the top of the board. With her back turned to the class, she grinned mischievously, her composure returning before she turned to face the class. 

"Today, we will discuss Doctor Pavlov's research on the concept he called conditional reflex. Please open your textbooks to page 37 and follow along as I read." 

Cindi opened her book up, but found that she could hardly sit still - each time she shifted or squirmed, even in the slightest, the little plug moved around inside of her, stimulating her sensitive ass with the most intense sensations she had ever felt. 

Her hairless little cunt was on fire, and she found it a test of her willpower not to reach down and dip a finger deep into her dripping honey pot during class. 

She tuned out the sound of the lecture, and most of the students had their noses buried in books, following along with Mara as she read out loud for them. This emboldened Cindi to ever so slightly move her hips up and down, the movements shifting her up and down on the little black toy as she absentmindedly bit her lip and stared off into space. 

After several minutes, Cindi realized that just idly shifting around and fucking herself with the toy would be more than enough to give her an orgasm, right there in the middle of class. Over and over again, Cindi would grind against her chair, the plug moving back and forth inside of her until she was on the very verge of having an orgasm, then she would suddenly stop and wait a minute or to calm down before she resumed grinding once more. 

Her body pleasantly tingling, Cindi exhaled slowly as Mara continued the lecture, her pussy was throbbing urgently beneath the damn cloth of her little blue panties, and for a moment she considered ending the intense session of edging, but gave into her lust and decided to see just how long she could make it last. 

Mara continued to read from the book, her gaze rolling over Cindi for a moment as she reached under the podium for a small, simple, remote control that could easily fit in the palm of her hand. It had a simple on/off switch and a dial that controlled the intensity. 

The teacher grinned to herself, her eyes locked on Cindi as she flipped the power on and pushed the dial up to its maximum setting and Cindi suddenly sat bolt upright, as if an electrical current suddenly jolted through her body as the plug began to vibrate with an almost unbearable intensity deep inside of her ass. 

Cindi's ass clenched instinctively around the slender plug as it vibrated almost violently inside of her tight, young ass. She gripped the sides of her desk as she barely stifled a moan, all of her concentration suddenly focused on trying not to have a shrieking, powerful orgasm right in the middle of class. 

Sweat formed at Cindi's little blonde brow as she bit her lip, her cheeks turning pink under the strain of the toy vibrating wildly inside of her, making her head loll around as she nearly gave into the desire to cum. 

After a minute or two of the torture, Mara was satisfied. She set her book down on the podium and glanced down at Cindi. "Oh my, Ms. Larsen. You look a bit flushed. I hear there is a stomach bug going around, you may have a fever." 

Mara quickly scanned the classroom, her gaze setting on a very large, dumb looking boy in a letterman jacket, one of the school's football players, Chad.

"Chad, would you be a dear and escort Cindi up to the nurse's office for me?"

The heavyset boy with dark brown hair nodded and stood, lumbering over towards Cindi who stood on shaky knees and tried her very best to remain composed as she shot the class a smile and picked up her bag. "I guess I just have the sniffles." 

She headed for the door, the big, dumb football player just behind her as Mara glanced towards Chad. "Take good care of her, Chad." Grinned Mara. 

The pair slowly walked through the silent, deserted halls together as sweat beaded on the young blonde's forehead, worsening as her almost unbearable desire to cum threatened to overcome her. 

Questionable lifestyle choices aside, Cindi was never one for brash, stupid action. 

Why gamble when you could spend a few extra moments plotting, weighing your options and creating a sure thing?

This however, was to be one of the rare exceptions to her otherwise well thought out and guarded behavior. Cindi spotted the pink placard that marked the girl's bathroom, and she quickly glanced around, and seeing no one else, she grabbed Chad by the sleeve and pulled him towards it. 

"Quickly, in here." She hissed quietly, tugging the hapless jock into the bathroom with her. 

Cindi spared a cursory glance to see if they were alone, before she dropped her bag and jumped up to sit on the edge of the sink. She pulled one foot up to rest flat on the counter as she lifted up her skirt, revealing her transparent, baby blue panties and the large damp spot formed in the front of them. 

Chad's eyes went huge at the sight, and Cindi sighed heavily as she tugged her panties to the side, giving the boy a view of her slick little bald cunt. Her fingers moved down and made little bunny ears as she spread open her slit, revealing her satiny pink depths.

"Come on, don't you want to fuck me?" Cindi asked bluntly, her tongue moving out to wet her lips as she absentmindedly pushed her hips out, the plug still humming away inside of her tightly clenched little ass. 

Needing no further enticement, the football player had his pants down in a moment, his cock was short, but very thick and stubby, not unlike the plug that was stretching out her ass. 

The jock tugged his raging hard cock from his boxers and was on top of the little blonde in an instant. His weight pushed down on her, pinning her to the sink counter as he crudely, but effectively stuffed his cock into her tight, slippery cunt. 

Cindi's teeth clamped down on the leather of Chad's jacket as she tried to keep from crying out as the jock crudely pumped his hips, driving his cock in and out of her as she gripped the sleeves of his jacket, trying to hold on as he roughly rode her.

She could hear the wet, audible squishing of her cunt being pumped by the thick, stubby cock, her little pink insides stretching around the thick cock as it plunged balls deep into her again and again. 

"Harder!" Cindi demanded through clenched teeth as she whorishly bucked her hips up into the throbbing, stiff jock cock. 

The jock complied, really throwing his back and considerable weight into the effort of fucking her little teen cunt nice and hard. Her soft, pink labia clung to the shaft of the thick cock, stretching slightly outward with every rough back and forth movement that drove his cock down to the base inside of her again and again. 

Cindi dug her heels into the small of Chad's back, pulling him harder and harder into her as she moaned loudly into the leather folds of his jacket. Her little cunt gushed with moisture as her body shuddered violently, almost convulsing as she came from the combine assault of being penetrated in both holes at once. 

The moment her incredibly intense orgasm had ripped through her tight, young body, the powerful vibrations from the butt plug had inexplicably ceased. 

Her legs weakly slipped down and off of the jock's back as she panted hard for breath, her knuckles white under the strain of gripping his jacket as he grunted loudly and continued to fuck her. 




Sunday School Slut



"Off!" Cindi gasped, pushing her palms against his chest as she urged the panting, sweaty boy reluctantly off of her. 

Her cheeks and chest flushed pink, Cindi barely managed to set her feet on the ground, her knees feeling wobbly as she leaned back against the sink for support. She looked down at the twisted up panties that were damp with her sticky cunt honey, likewise her thighs were glistening with sweat and splattered juices, her cunt itself visibly twitching in the aftermath of her orgasm. 

"What about me?" Chad asked suddenly, cutting through the haze of Cindi's orgasmic high. 

She didn't think for a moment that the incredibly intense orgasm was a result of the overbearing jock, but rather the jealousy, sexual tension and the tongue Mara had slipped into her ass before slipping the plug in. It was a dumb move, but she knew that boys talked, but that no one would ever believe him if he uttered a word of it. 

"Ugh, fine." Cindi grumbled a she dipped a hand between her legs. She rubbed her dripping, throbbing cunt, smearing it with her sticky nectar before she reached out and wrapped her delicate little fingers around the jock's hard, pulsating cock. 

"Ahhh fuck yes!" Chad gasped suddenly as Cindi's skilled little digits went to work on him. 

The all natural lube on her hand and on his cock made the contact nice and slippery, and her hand slid easily up and down his stubby cock, her soft fingers brushing the underside of his cock as she pushed the top of the thick, purple head and shaft against her palm.

"Mmm you like that huh?" Cindi asked, her voice an intentionally seductive purr as she reached out with her free hand, grabbing Chad by the wrist and bringing his hand up to rest on her left breast. 

He squeezed it immediately and began eagerly pawing at her soft chest as she stroked him nice and fast. Cindi beamed brightly up at him, as if it were the biggest, most awesome cock she had ever laid eyes on. 

Of course, inwardly she was rolling her eyes; she just wanted this loser to cum so she could go up to the nurse's office for a quick nap and then back to her daily routine. 

"Come on baby, come on." Cindi purred, parting her legs slightly so he could plainly see the glistening mound of her little bald pussy. He gasped at the sight, his cock noticeably stiffening in her hand as she squeezed it a little tighter and moved her hand even faster. 

His fingers suddenly clutched her breast painfully tight as he groaned, his hips pumping forward as he thrust into her hand, precum dribbling from the tip of his cock as Cindi stroked him faster and faster, feeling him throb and swell, threatening to blow. 

Finally he came, his balls clenching tightly as his cock violently spurted cum from the tip. Thick, sticky ropes of cum blasted from the tip of his cock and onto the edge of the counter and sink, the jock groaning loudly as he rocked his hips forward, spurting again and again before his body relaxed, leaving a slimy trickle of thick white cum smeared across Cindi's fingers. 

"Hmmp. Good for you." Cindi said, sounding rather bored as she flipped on the water and began washing her hands. "Just go back to class and say you brought me up to the office." Cindi instructed dismissively as she washed her hand, the dazed jock nodding absentmindedly as she fumbled to pull his pants up and walk out the door. 

Cindi leaned forward on the counter, her vision blurring slightly as she watched the water swirling around the drain in the pristine, white porcelain sink. She tilted her head slightly, noticing that the grate around the drain was a bit tarnished and flecked with rust. 

The contrast blemished the look of the pristine porcelain and made a fiery coal of anger suddenly spark in the pit of the girl's stomach. Before she had even realized what had happened, she was staring at blood trickling down to the back of her hand, the mirror in front of her shattered into dozens of sharp, gleaming pieces. 

"Huh." Cindi remarked emotionlessly as she watched her blood trickle down into the sink, only to be washed away by the running water. 

Chapter 6

The week had passed by rather uneventfully for Cindi. She had been cleaning, lubing and then plugging her ass with the little black plug every morning and every evening, and found that each time; her asshole relaxed and accepted the plug more easily, though she remained nice and tight. 

Twice that week she had gotten sex from Trace, in a sense. Twice she had snuck into his room before dawn and woke him up with her warm lips wrapped firmly around his fat cock, and twice she had eaten his thick, delicious load while he groaned and withered on the bed.

But still, Trace largely ignored her, and more than once he had found Trace fucking Sarah in the ass, again in the kitchen, once in the shower, and twice in the living room on the couch, with no regard whatsoever for the possibility that they might be caught. 

It irritated Cindi that they could ignore her right that, after all she had done for them too! She had helped her mother understand that she was nothing but a cock-craving, cunt-eating whore and liberated her, and likewise, Trace had been a virgin before she peeled the shrink wrap off of his cock and taught him how to use it. 

Oh well, soon, soon Sarah would be put in her place and she would show her big brother just how incredible her tight little body was, and all the magical things it could do for him. 

Cindi had never felt something quite as intense as the plug stretching out her ass, and more than once she had passed an evening or morning before school slowly pushing the plug back and forth to toe-curling orgasm after orgasm that left her shivering and gasping for breath. 

It was just a little toy made out of silicone and latex, she knew that if something so small and menial could make her cum like that, then a cock was likely was to make her head explode, she looked forward to that. 

Cindi sat in the mostly empty bleachers around the hockey rink at Skate or Die as Trace and his friends played a casual game of roller hockey. She had come with him, and it gave her a chance to corner him alone and give his cock a nice, thorough draining before the party, which was to be held later that night. 

She had already informed the others of the get-together, and Sarah and Trace would both be going, though they had no idea what was in store for them, especially if Cindi had her way. 

Bored, Cindi picked up her cell phone and idly flipped through some messages, her gaze only wandering up from time to time to check on the progress of the game. After half an hour or so, Cindi glanced up and seen a sight that was a familiar as it was unwelcome - Gwen Johnson, clad in a simple, baby blue t-shirt and simple black, pleated skirt was leaning against the railing below her, watching Trace skate. 

Cindi's eyes narrowed at the sight of the little redheaded bitch, and she snapped her phone shut before shoving it into her purse. Very casually, Cindi rose and walked with an almost elegant stride over towards Gwen and leaned against the railing beside her. 

"Oh... Hello!" Gwen smiled, giving Cindi the warm greeting. 

Her good girl demeanor sickened Cindi; there was no way a squeaky clean little bitch like Gwen could ever get Trace. But still, Cindi smiled back. 

"Watching Trace again huh?" Cindi asked, her tone almost sugar-sweet. 

Gwen immediately blushed at the comment and reached up to tuck back a strand of her short, bright red hair. "W-well I was umm..."

"It's alright. I'm Cindi by the way, I think we're in the same year..." Cindi said, smiling at the girl, though inwardly she was trying to restrain herself from taking a straight razor to the girl's cheery little face. 

"Gwen, nice to meet you!" Gwen smiled sincerely, but a little bit shyly as she spoke. "You're Trace's little sister aren't you? I was wondering, is he, maybe, seeing anyone?" Gwen asked shyly, immediately biting her lip after she had asked the question. 

Cindi licked her lips slyly, her little blue eyes darting around for a moment. The rink was mostly empty, and early in the day the place was usually dead, mainly just the athletes were there for practice, and it was later in the evenings when the place would be packed, so as it stood, things were pretty dead. 

"You know, maybe we could talk about this in a more discreet setting, I was just about to head up to the ladies room." Cindi said, gently titling her head and gesturing for Gwen to follow as she walked down the stairs that led up to the bleachers, and off towards the bathroom. 

The small, surprisingly clean little bathroom was empty as Cindi had expected, and the little blonde narrowed her eyes at Gwen who walked over to the mirror and quickly checked her carefully applied makeup. Cindi snapped the deadbolt shut and then slowly walked over to the counter beside Gwen, her hand stuck in her purse as she glared at the little redhead with an intense hatred.

Her hand suddenly emerged with a small, rectangular compact and Cindi set it on the counter, glancing up to Gwen. "You know... It takes a very special kind of girl to be with my big brother." Cindi said, inwardly she was burning with rage and just wanted to open the girl's throat, the hot blood splashing down her arms and chest would signal her victory over the little brother-snatching bitch, but Cindi was able to calm herself, knowing that patience would lead to a much more complete victory. 

"I really like your brother, Cindi, he's just... He's so handsome, and he's a really nice guy, and the way he plays hockey is just so cool. Your brother is really swell, I wouldn't do anything bad to him." Gwen said with an almost dreamy, but hopeful expression on her features. 

It was obvious that Cindi's opinion of her mattered, as did her blessing, and Cindi realized this, smiling as it made her plan all that more likely to succeed. Cindi flipped open the rectangular compact that was devoid of makeup or a pad, just an empty case she had purchased for the generous sized mirror, perfect for her little habit. 

"What are you doing?" Gwen asked softly, confused as Cindi produced a small plastic bag containing a fine white powder and carefully dashed some of it out onto the mirror.

"I'm doing some cocaine." Cindi said, wearing a perfect expression of mock astonishment. "You mean, you don't do it?"

Gwen seemed flustered and a little bit nervous and quickly shook her head. "N-no, never!"

"Well that's too bad, Trace and I do it together all of the time." She said, gently tapping the tiny mound of powder into a sharp, fine line on the surface of the mirror. 

"Trace does it?" Gwen asked, clearly surprised. 

"Mmm hmm. He loves doing it, especially after a nice, long game like the one he is playing. I mean, if you don't do coke, I don't think he would be interested in you. I mean, what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn't like doing the things he liked?" 

Cindi tilted her head down and pinched one nostril shut, very quickly snorting the meager line she had made on the mirror, before tossing her head back and snorting again, making sure that her nostril was clear. 

"I-I ah, I don't know..." Gwen said, biting her lip as she anxiously clasped her hands in front of herself and fidgeted around. 

"Look, I have some more if you want some... It won't hurt you, I do it all the time, so does Trace. You can try just a tiny bit to see if you like it. Who knows, maybe you will, and then you and Trace will have that much more in common, I mean, I could just tell him you're cool and that would probably be enough..." Cindi licked her lips and smiled. 

Gwen glanced around, very clearly agitated and torn as she listened to Cindi, but slowly the redhead nodded a timid 'yes' as Cindi poured herself another small line. 

"Go check and make sure I locked the door, it'll be fun, don't worry." Cindi said with a reassuring smile and a quick wink. 

Gwen turned for a moment to go around the partition to make sure the door was locked, and Cindi quickly put the bag of coke back into her bag, pulling out a second bag while the redhead had her back turned. 

"It's locked." Gwen said nervously as Cindi poured out a thick, white line that was a little bit of cocaine, mixed with a few other, very powerful things.

"Come here." Cindi said softly, holding her arm out for Gwen, and as the girl stepped forward, Cindi gently put her hand on the back of the girl's neck, fighting the urge to wring the life out of her as she instead bent forward over the counter with Gwen. 

"Watch me. Just pinch your nose and suck hard, it doesn't take much, but you want it to reach the back of your nose to drip down into your throat." Cindi leaned forward and quickly snorted up the line before tossing her heard back, breathing in sharply once more. 

"Then you suck in a nice breath through your nose with your head back, to make sure it goes down. Now you try." Cindi said, pushing the little mirror over to the girl. "It'll be okay, I promise." Cindi said with a broad grin. 

"If-if you're sure..." Gwen bit her lip timidly and at Cindi's urging she leaned down and clumsily, but successfully inhaled the neatly formed line of the drug cocktail. She immediately tossed her head back and winced, her fingers moving up to pinch her nose as her face contorted. 

"Ow! It burns!" Gwen hissed, quickly snorting several times in an attempt to get rid of the intense burning sensation that flooded her nasal cavity. 

"Just give it a minute..." Cindi licked her lips, her eyes sharply narrowed at Gwen who blinked rapidly for a moment before she swayed slightly, her hands moving out to the counter to support herself. 

"I feel dizzy..." Gwen said, her voice almost a whisper as she slowly craned her neck around, blinking again as she stared at herself in the mirror. Cindi could see through the soft fabric of Gwen's shirt the small bulges of her stiff little nipples as she reached up, placing a hand to her head. "...and I feel really...hot..." Gwen announced, her words slow, her tone quiet as if she were in a daze. 

Cindi smiled grimly at the girl and helped her sit on the floor before she stepped away, producing her small, pink cell phone which she quickly flipped open before hitting the speed dial. 

"Are you busy?" She asked simply, turning to stare at Gwen who sat on the floor, her pupils large as she slumped against the wall, staring blankly up at the ceiling with a stupefied expression on her features. "I found you a party favor, all you have to do is come pick her up."

***

Trace had finished up his game and loaded his gear into the trunk of the car before Cindi climbed in. She slid into the front passenger's seat and quickly leaned over, pecking Trace on the cheek, her hand dropping down between his legs to firmly squeeze his semi-hard cock. 

"Ah!" He gasped. "What are you doing Cindi? There are people around..."

Cindi merely grinned, her hand very gently moving up and down in his lap, her soft hand quickly bringing him up to full hardness. She leaned up, her warm breath tickling his neck as she whispered into his ear. 

"Tonight I have a BIG surprise for you. I'll give it to you at the party, so now just be a good little boy and wait..." Cindi winked at Trace and then pecked him softly on the jawline before sinking back down into her seat. 

As they drove home, Cindi couldn't help but admire Trace's raging erection budging up between his legs as she very gently wiggled around in her seat, savoring the feel of the little plug grinding around inside of her ass...

***

Just after the sun had set, the doorbell rang, and Mara pulled open the front door of her home to reveal the trio of Trace, Cindi and of course their Mother Sarah. The sounds of people groaning mingled with the sounds of scattered conversation and music playing off in the distance. 

Mara was decked out in a slutty version of a super heroine costume that consisted of a skimpy blue thong that was spangled with white stars. She was wearing a red spandex halter top that barely covered her small, perky breasts and was trimmed with gold at the top. With it she wore a braided lasso at her left hip and pair of thick, golden bracelets, all topped off with a golden tiara at the top of her head, her long, black hair worn down, flowing around her shoulders. 

Looking her up and down once, Cindi couldn't help but grin. The costume was slutty and didn't leave much to the imagination, but she appreciated tactical way that Mara had picked her costume. It highlighted her very toned, fit figure, the flat expanse of her hard, slightly muscular stomach and thighs not only beautiful, but something you couldn't get out of a costume box. 

The trio shuffled in, each was wearing a simple rain slicker despite the fact that it was the middle of June, they were after all, wearing next to nothing at all underneath.

"Well, well. Look at what we have here." Mara quickly licked her glossy, pink-painted lips and grinned, flashing her perfect white teeth as she looked the trio over. 

Despite the coats, it was obvious what Sarah's costume was. She was wearing what very obviously was a black and white nun's hood, a black satin blindfold creeping down out of the white headband to completely cover her eyes; a bright pink, perforated ball gag was in her mouth with a little bit of drool glistening at the corners of her supple lips. 

Cindi stripped the woman down to reveal that she was wearing a simple, black leather strap-harness that fit her like a kinky, almost non-existent one piece bathing suit. Her milk-white, supple flesh stood out against the smooth, black leather straps that dug into her skin, her puffy, pink nipples standing erect now that were exposed. 

Her thighs were smeared with moisture, a pair of straps on either side of her smooth, hairless cunt pushed her vaginal flesh towards the middle, making it look thick and puffy as the delicate flesh was squeezed together.

Nimbly, Cindi slipped the coat off of Trace who resisted for a moment before letting her take it. He was wearing a simple black leather vest that was just small enough that it wouldn't close, so it remained unbuttoned, showing off the firm ridges of his muscular chest and stomach, his torso hairless and as smooth as it was muscular. 

With it he wore a pair of black chaps and a simple piece of black cloth that bugled from being stuffed with his large cock and full, heavy balls. It tied shut with a simple pair of strings; one quick tug would have his luscious cock freed of the cloth prison and ready for action. To top it off, Cindi produced a black cowboy hat and planted it on top of his head. 

Mara licked her lips, her eyes lingering on Trace for several very long moments before they moved up to focus on her young protégé.

Cindi shimmied out of her coat and let it fall down to the floor, the large garment pooling at her feet. The young blonde girl was wearing an elaborate choker and neckpiece intricately crafted from polished turquoise and deer horn. With it she wore a very simple, incredibly skimpy ensemble that consisted of a barely-there leather bikini top that was lined with fringe decorated with an assortment of colorful beads and the occasional small feather. 

With it she wore something somewhat resembling a skirt, it was cut with a sharp V-shape in the front, leaving her young, bald pussy and stomach exposed as well as the expanse of her smooth, glistening thighs. The outfit was complete with a pair of knee-high leather boots that were also trimmed with beaded fringe and a simple headband containing a single feather which Cindi put on the top of her head, her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. 

"Well what good is a cowboy without a little Indian to fuck?" Mara grinned slightly. 




Sunday School Teacher



It was early Sunday morning. I watched as she drove up the winding driveway in her bright red car and stopped outside the front door. She demurely stepped out of the car, showing off her elegant but prim blue dress. She looked every inch the Sunday school teacher. Even the curly blonde hair that stretched past her shoulders gave an impression of innocence and sweetness.

"Good morning, fair lady," I said, going out to meet her. I had not really expected to see her, knowing that she had Sunday school duties. "Did you get lost on the way to church?"

She ignored my question. "Do like what you see?" she asked, coyly twirling in a little circle. Her dress rose above her knees, revealing her exquisite legs: softly tanned, long and lean.

"You look ravishing," I replied.

"Ravish me then," she said with a wink. "Don't hold back, I need it badly."

"Doesn't your husband give it to you?" I asked.

"I saved it all for you," she said cheekily. "This pussy is all yours for you to play with. When I leave today I want to be filled with your cum, and your cum only. Do you like that?"

"Why?"

Her eyes had a hungry twinkle. "I want to able to look at all the people at church, and look all sweet and prim. I want to talk to the other women about boring little things. All the time I want to bask in the knowledge that I have been a very naughty girl; that I have had sex with another man and my womb is filled with his seed. How do you like that?"

"You are impossible," I laughed. My cock was already throbbing in anticipation. "How can you turn me on so quickly?"

"We don't have much time," she said hastily. "Let's hurry."

"Sounds good to me," I said happily. I led her straight to my bedroom. Her eyes lit up; everything was perfect. Even the time was right: the room was magically lit by the early morning sunlight. "I've never seen your room so beautiful. It must be the early morning light." she said breathlessly. "I think this will be our best time ever."

I drew her to me. We kissed urgently. Her mouth opened and her tongue wiggled softly against my lips as I played with her nipples.

"Do you like me when I am naughty?" she asked breathlessly.

"You are perfect when you are naughty."

She quickly undid the buttons of her dress; they were on the front and easy to reach. My eyes stretched in surprise: she was not wearing a bra. Her perfect round breasts stared out at me, the pink nipples jutting out like little towers. I kissed them, but she pushed me away.

"There is no time for foreplay," she urged. "I'm ready, you're ready..."

She swept off her dress and hung it on a convenient hook. Then she turned and showed off her panties, 'Fuck me' emblazoned on the front. It was my present to her. "I did it," she announced. "I put them on in the bathroom and said goodbye to my husband while I was wearing them. I can't believe that I did that."

"Let's take that off," I suggested. I took it off, and immediately I smelt the musky odor of a randy female. I looked into her eyes enquiringly.

"I am feeling so horny," she giggled. "Last night I told my husband that I had a headache, but I was saving it up for you. I could hardly sleep thinking of what you are going to do now."

"Do you mean your husband got no nookie last night?"

"Yes," she growled hungrily. "Now come and take all you want right now."

With furious determination I threw her quivering body onto the bed. "You bitch!" I shouted. "You were made for only thing. You were made for fucking!"

With a willful smirk she pushed up her hips, placing her naked pussy fully onto display. "Stop talking and do it," she said huskily.

I lined my cock up against her entrance and drove in her hard, forcing her down.

She wrapped her legs around my back and drew me in towards her. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily as I pumped into her with long heavy strokes.

"Squeeze your tits, bitch," I ordered. "Show me how you play with yourself."

Her hands eagerly reached to her nipples. As I watched her she rubbed her breasts for me, lighting new fires of hunger. 

"Tell me what you are feeling," I demanded.

"Oooh, it is so good. You are deep inside of me, driving me out of control."

"What am I doing to you?"

"You are fucking me," she said proudly, knowing exactly what I wanted.

"Tell me more!"

"I am as horny as a bitch, and you are fucking me. I am hot and fertile and naughty." She was working herself up, panting for breath, but eagerly talking dirty. "I can't wait for you to shooooot your cum into meeeee!" Her face tightened into the mask that told me that she was approaching her climax. She gasped out incoherently and jerked against me, signaling her first climax.

I slowed down for a few minutes, my cock moving gently inside her, letting her relax.

I thought of how I had seduced this previously sweet, innocent married woman, and turned her into a fiery ball of sex. It had been a difficult chase, but now that I had her where I wanted her she was worth every bit of it.

After she caught her breath, her eyes opened. "Do you still like what you see?" she asked.

"You are beautiful," I said. "I have never had another woman that compares with you."

She purred, lapping up my compliment. "So why haven't you cum yet?"

"I am saving it up," I said.

"You can't save it up because I must leave now."

"You aren't going anywhere until I've filled your pussy with my cum."

"I am getting up now," she said. She made to get up.

I forced her down hard, pushing her shoulders down against the bed. "I am in charge here, and I will cum when I want to," I said loudly.

"Prove it," she challenged me.

I held her down, but now I flexed my hips, moving them ever so slightly upward. "That will be very easy, woman." Once again I slammed into her. 

She pretended to struggle, but I could feel that it was just for show. I let my cock hold its position there, deep in her womb, before making my point again. "I am in charge," I said quietly. "And I am going to put my seed into your hungry pussy when I feel like it."

She did not say anything but looked deep into my eyes, a willful and rebellious look on her face, then slowly started rocking her hips against mine. As she did so I felt her pussy squeezing my cock. It felt as if she were deliberately milking it. The sensation enthralled me. I felt as if my entire being were slowly squeezed. For a long moment I stayed motionless, letting my body bask in the attention. 

This could not go on indefinitely. Suddenly my cock starting to tingle with excitement, and I knew that I could not last much longer.

Something in my expression must have told her what was happening. Her expression became triumphant as she took in that I was about to shoot my load. "I order you to cum now," she said boldly.

"I won't!" I said stubbornly. "I'll keep you here all day."

She jerked her hips against mine, almost causing me to explode instantly.

"You will cum now," she ordered, her eyes focused in concentration.

I would not let her have her way in the battle of wills between us. "No!" I shouted.

"Now!" she ordered loudly, jerking against me once more.

It took every last ounce of my will power, but somehow I held myself back. Then with terrible energy I pulled my aching cock halfway out of her slick tunnel of pleasure and then immediately slammed it deep into her. I followed that up with several more strokes, chanting, "I will keep you here all day."

But it was all bluff, and she knew it. "I know that you are going to cum now," she said huskily. Just at that moment her eyes suddenly stretched out in surprise. "Oh no," she gurgled. "It's happening again."

I did not have to wonder what was happening. Her eyes closed in ecstasy and her arms fell limp and unresisting. I felt her shake under me like a leaf as a new orgasm shot through her body. She moaned under me in excitement driving me to even greater efforts.

My body could not hold out a moment. I drove in one more time, shooting my sperm as deep within the woman as I could. Every spurt felt like a river driving deep into her smooth, soft and moist depths. Her clitoris danced against my spasming cock, welcoming each seed into her and encouraging it to search deep and well.

It took only a few moments according to the clock on the wall, but the pleasure of our joining was enough for a lifetime. 

Slowly my thrusts became weaker and her body became still once more. I rested on her and then slowly lay down next to her, panting heavily. We lay close together, sharing the moment. I kissed her gently, and lay back spent.

My kiss seemed to be a signal to her. She whispered, "I really have to go now," then got up shakily and went to the bathroom. I heard the sounds as she douched. As I lounged on the bed, she came in still naked, and quickly dressed in front of me, taking care to show off her beautiful form to best effect. I was surprised at how quickly she was able to look modest and tidy. Then she opened her handbag and took out a small makeup set. Looking into its little mirror she quickly repaired the ravages of our passion. She looked at herself critically in the mirror, gave a nod of satisfaction, then blew me a kiss.

With that she went to the door. Her hips swayed provocatively in complete contrast to her staid dress and shoes. She turned around and waved, her wedding ring glinting in the light. Then she marched off to her car, every bit the business-like Sunday school teacher.



Sunday School Teacher



Back in 1971, I was a rather naive 18 year old, but one summer afternoon I discovered a whole lot about human nature, as well as learning a valuable lesson. Never judge a book by the cover.

It was mid-morning on a weekday afternoon. The sun was hot and with high school already a fading memory, I was doing what most of my crowd did that summer before heading to college, which was hanging out. 

Later in the day, we would gather around the field and end up playing baseball until supper time, but until then I was just sitting on our front porch killing time. Across the street and up a little way, I saw the garbage man pulling up to the Beckford's house. 

That was weird because it wasn't garbage day, and the way that Carl Johnson, the guy that operated the rickety old garbage truck, was acting was even stranger. I mean, everybody knew Can Man Carl, a big black guy with a pot belly and a voice that sounded like that cartoon character Foghorn Leghorn, so it wasn't like he was exactly sneaking around, but he was acting funny. 

It was as if he was trying to act like he wasn't up to something, and since I often acted that way myself, I knew better. Fancying myself a detective, I kept watching as he fiddled with the back of his truck while looking around.

Then, all of a sudden he ducked down the driveway beside the Beckford's house. Maybe he had to take a leak or something, I figured, and just waited for him to emerge from the little patch of woods pulling up his zipper.

When he didn't come back out after a few minutes, my curiosity got the best of me. Maybe he was casing the joint, although what anybody would want out of the Beckford's house was beyond me. Maybe some bibles or hymn books? 

The Beckford's were the holy rollers of the neighborhood. They were both old, probably in their 50's, and John Beckford owned a store in town that sold religious goods. He looked like death warmed over, sort of like a skinny version of Lurch from the Addams family.

His wife Martha was an incredibly plain looking woman who was probably 6' tall and skinny as a rail, resembling Miss Hathaway from the Beverly Hillbillies. If she had ever smiled once in her life, I would have been shocked. I spent a couple of years in her Sunday School class in my younger days, and Martha Beckford did everything she could to make them the most tedious hours imaginable.

She spoke in a monotone, and when somebody would eventually start to nod off she would slam the desktop with a ruler and raise her voice for a few seconds before returning to her drone. Mrs. Beckford wore these floral dresses that seemed about 20 years out of style even to somebody as clueless fashion-wise as me, and she often wore these stockings that had seams along the backs of them.

So while I had no great love for either of the Beckford's, for some reason I had to know what Carl the Can Man was up to. These were the lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer out in our parts back in 1971, before computers and video games, and I was bored.

I did my best to act just as nonchalantly as Carl had, and darted into the woods like Carl did as well, keeping my eyes out for the garbage man while trying to come up with a reason for being back there should I be spotted.

No sign of Carl, so I wound my way over to the side of the Beckford house, nodding over at the bathtub figurines and assorted shrines that filled the yard. I found myself outside what was the kitchen, and when I peeked inside I saw good old Mrs. Beckford sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea or coffee, wearing a bathrobe.

Oh well, I said to myself, and I was just about to head back home when I heard that familiar raspy voice on the other side of the screen window. It was Carl the Can Man, and while I couldn't make out what he was saying, that was partly because I was stunned at what I was seeing.

Carl Johnson. Carl the Can Man was naked, unless you want to count the towel he was moving back and forth over his back. He was dripping wet, and my detective skills led me to believe that he had just taken a shower.

And Mrs. Beckford was just sitting there like nothing was strange about this. She set her teacup down and swiveled in the chair as Carl came over to her, wet and bare-assed, his little round beer belly making him look like a Buddha. 

What was hanging below the beer belly was what caught me attention, and until Mrs. Beckford's lily-white fingers wrapped themselves around that fat black snake, adding a sense of proportion to what I was seeing, I thought I must have been mistaken.

So black that it seemed to be a whole new color, Carl Johnson's cock hung there like a snake until Mrs. Beckford's bony fingers lifted it upwards. I had seen plenty of dicks before in the locker rooms, and while I never really paid that much attention to them, I admit to what I felt was a normal curiosity about them.

Some guys have little cocks, and some have big ones. Most guys, like yours truly, fall somewhere in the middle. What Mrs. Beckford was handling fit no category I knew of. Carl the Can Man's cock did not look human, and what was even more crazy was that old lady Beckford was sitting there pulling in it.

Martha Beckford? The Jane Hathaway of Sunday School? The woman who not only wouldn't say shit if she had a mouthful, but would smack your knuckles with a ruler if you said the word "damn", sitting in the kitchen of her house pulling on the longest, fattest and blackest cock in the world?

I would have given anything to have not only a picture of what I was watching, but also a picture of my reaction to this stag movie come to life right before my prying eyes, because it must have been comical.

The Can Man looking down on the puritanical Sunday School teacher as she kept pulling on his uncircumcised manhood, stroking her hair and then undoing it out of this bun she wore it in. Mrs. Beckford's hair fell down over her shoulders and back, long and straight black hair that now made her look entirely different.

Carl Johnson's cock kept getting bigger as Martha Beckford pulled it in, and it resembled an accordion the way it kept stretching and contracting. The head of his cock kept going in and out from under the foreskin, and the knob of his tool not only was as big as a plum, but also had that hue to it.

Mrs. Beckford looked up at the garbage man over the top of her glasses and then leaned forward, opening her mouth wide and putting the head of that monstrous cock inside. As she did, I realized that I was leaning against the house and my face was almost against the screen. If either of them ever turned my way, they would see me, but I didn't care because it was like I was hypnotized.

Carl Johnson was swaying as Martha Beckford's wide open mouth slid up and down the end of his cock while her hands held the rest of it, continuing to pull on it. It looked like the garbage man had an erection, because her hands started to move easier as they pumped away. 

That proved to be the case because when the Can Man pulled away from Mrs. Beckford, his schlong was standing straight out like a salami, the head of it wet with Martha Beckford's saliva. I still hadn't recovered from the shock of seeing old lady Beckford giving head when Carl Johnson helped her up and pulled the robe off of Martha's shoulders and let it fall to the floor

When I got over the shock of seeing old Martha Beckford naked - and that took some time - I was stunned to see that, while it wasn't a case of the Plain Jane suddenly becoming a knockout, the truth of the matter is that she didn't look all that bad without her clothes. 

Martha Beckford did not look nearly as bad what I would have imagined, IF I had ever actually fantasized about seeing her naked. I had spent most of my life picturing what just about every woman in the world looked like under their clothes, but I must admit that I had never mentally undressed Martha Beckford.

And there she was, standing naked in the middle of her kitchen, the palest white woman on the planet toe to toe with the blackest dude on earth. Martha Beckford was about a half foot taller than The Can Man as well, making them the oddest couple imaginable.

Although I would have bet against it, given how flat-chested she had always appeared, Martha Beckford had breasts - honest-to-goodness breasts - and while they weren't very large, she actually did have tits. Grapefruit-sized globes that looked lost on her wide and lean frame, and they looked pretty firm when Carl Johnson big black hands started kneading them.

"Oh!" Martha Beckford moaned as the garbage man squeezed her tits, actually showing emotion for once, and while Carl kept working her tits over my eyes went down Mrs. Beckford's body. She was very skinny, with her hip bones slightly visible, and her long legs were really thin as well, but my eyes were between her legs.

I had seen tits before and had gotten to play with three pairs of them, but I had never seen a real live pussy before, although I got my hand inside Rose Scaringe's panties for the few brief glorious seconds of having my fingers in pubic hair that wasn't mine. 

Martha Beckford had a big bush, that much I knew from seeing pictures of other ones. The hair was black and grew in a wide V that probably fanned out beyond what her panties would have covered, and it grew so densely that I couldn't see her opening through the forest.

The Can Man moved Martha Beckford back down to her knees, and she took up where she had left off, sucking his cock and pumping the shaft with her hands, although she took her right hand off of it almost right away.

Omigod! She was playing with herself! First old lady Beckford was squeezing her own tit, and then her hand went lower, disappearing into her bush. She was fingering herself while getting her jaws stretched by Carl Johnson's tool. Carl seemed to be enjoying himself as well, rocking away and holding Martha's head in his hands, and who could blame him?

It was then that I realized that I was playing with myself. My hand was in my pocket and I was very timidly playing with my stiff dick right there on the side of the Beckford's house. There weren't any neighbors on that side of her house, and there wasn't much traffic on the road, but still and all, if somebody happened by and looked down the driveway they would see me.

I didn't care. This was better than any dirty magazine. This was even better than watching that stag movie in Jack Slater's basement that time because this was real, and the fact that I knew these people somehow made it even better. I wished that there was some way to tell the guys about this, so they could see it too, because they were never going to believe me when I told them.

On her knees, Martha Beckford was still working her hand around her pussy frantically, undulating and carrying on like she was possessed, slobbering all over that fat cock and stuffing as much of it as she could in her mouth.

That hoarse laugh of Carl Johnson's startled me, and then I watched as he took his cock away from Mrs. Beckford, who continued to play with herself while the Can Man cackled.

"You want it bad, don't you Martha?" Carl rasped, and Mrs. Beckford nodded, her mouth still open while he waved the fat log inches away from her face and chortled. "You want it real bad today!"

Carl Johnson touched her outstretched tongue with his cock, cackling as old lady Beckford kept leaning forward to try and get it, and then he started slapping her cheeks with his dick. I could hear the slapping sounds from where I was, and it was as if this was making Martha Beckford crazy, because she was babbling things I could not make out, almost like she was speaking in tongues.

"FUCK ME!"

Now THAT I could make out! Hearing those words come out of the puritanical Sunday School teacher would have bowled be over, if I hadn't been watching her kneeling on the floor naked performing fellatio on the trash man, that is.

Carl Johnson laughed at that, and pulled Mrs. Beckford to her feet, her red knees matching her red face and standing out on her pale torso. Martha turned away from The Can Man and leaned over the kitchen table, bracing herself with her hands as the husky dude moved behind her, his black pole in his fist.

It was like the shorter man was climbing under Mrs. Beckford, who looked like a giraffe as she spread her legs. He jerked forward, and Martha Beckford let out a sound that seemed like she had gotten the wind knocked out of her. From then on, it really got crazy.

I didn't know what making love was, but I didn't think that this was it. This was more like two animals mating, with Carl Johnson rutting savagely into poor Mrs. Beckford, grunting gutturally every time their bodies crashed together, and almost lifting her off of her feet with every upward thrust.

As for "poor Mrs. Beckford", it looked like she was pushing back into the The Can Man, making the collisions ever more brutal. The table was shaking so hard that things were tipping over and rolling onto the floor, and Mrs. Beckford's glasses even went flying off as they humped like animals.

It went on and on, and the rhythmic grunting was only broken by Martha Beckford squealing like a pig at one point. Carl Johnson's shower was a distant memory, as his body was dripping with perspiration, making his jet black skin glisten, and his sweaty body was pressed against Mrs. Beckford's back as he just about mounted her, his hands milking her tits as they swayed below her.

Suddenly, Carl Johnson let out what sounded like a roar and moved a step back, spinning Martha Beckford around and down onto her knees again, holding his cock in his right fist and Mrs. Beckford's hair in his left.

"ARRRGHHH!!!" cried the garbage man as he started cumming just before Mrs. Beckford's mouth got there.

I saw a jet of cum spray her cheek before her lips covered the plum-like head, and could see her throat moving as she tried to swallow the ejaculations as fast as Carl Johnson was spitting them out.

The Can Man kept grunting as he thrust his hips toward Mrs. Beckford, and semen was drooling out of the corners of the Sunday School teacher's mouth as it seemed she couldn't swallow fast enough to handle it all. She choked a little, but would not stop sucking on his cock until it finally looked like he almost had to pull her off of it.

I should have left right then and there. I didn't, for a couple of reasons. One was that I think I was in some sort of a trance, clearly dazed and confused about what I had seen. Not only the acts I had witnessed, but the unlikely cast of characters involved.

The second, and far more embarrassing reason, was that I was in the process of making a mess on the side of Martha Beckford's house. I really don't remember how it happened, but during the course of events, somehow my cock managed to slide out of the fly of my jeans, and I had been stroking it as Carl Johnson and Martha Beckford were fucking.

I was a little behind Carl, because I didn't start cumming until he was pulling his deflating dick out of Mrs. Beckford's mouth, but I was popping my load while savoring the sight of puritanical Martha Beckford on her knees naked with cum drooling down her chin.

As self-induced orgasms go, I fondly recall it as being one of the best, if not the very best I ever enjoyed. My body tingled from head to toe, and it must have been so good that perhaps I made a sound of some kind.

Anyway, the afterglow of my orgasm was short-lived, because I was still dripping semen when Carl's hoarse laugh brought me back to earth. I looked up and saw Carl Johnson looking at me, with my head likely very visible through the screen.

The Can Man thought it was hilarious, and he got a real kick out of seeing that he had an audience. As for Mrs. Beckford - not so much. She looked in the direction Carl was pointing, and as she fumbled to put on her glasses it suddenly occurred to me that I was busted.

I wasn't noted for being especially fleet afoot, but if there's record for running through a patch of woods and across a street while putting your dick back in your pants, I broke it that day. Flying up the porch steps in two strides, I slammed the door behind myself and tried to catch my breath as I peeked out the curtains.

What was going to happen? I didn't know what to expect. I suppose Carl Johnson coming over to kick my ass was a possibility, but I didn't think so. He seemed to be fine with me acting like a pervert and spying on him, although he probably didn't know that I had been pleasuring myself as I played Peeping Tom.

A more real possibility was Mrs. Beckford telling my parents when they got home, giving them the news that their son was a sicko. I think the old man would understand, but Mom would be a tough sell. She caught me looking through her underwear drawer years ago and still hasn't forgotten that, so something like this could follow me to my grave.

So I stood and watched, staring down the road at the garbage truck still parked outside the Beckford house and waiting for something to happen. A half hour later, Carl Johnson came out from behind the house, looking happy and satisfied, and just hopped in the truck and drove away.

I was staring to think I was going to be okay, and was considering making a run for the ball field when I saw her. Martha Beckford. No longer in a bathrobe but in her prim and proper dress, looking right at my house, and then she was walking across the street right toward me, with a look on her face that sent a chill down my spine.

I locked the door as I tried to plan my next move. Out the back door? Just don't answer the bell? Now the footsteps were coming up the stairs and a shadow appeared on the other side of the curtains.

She didn't ring the bell, and instead knocked on the door, loudly. Again, and then again.

"Timothy?" I heard Mrs. Beckford say in her strict disciplinarian voice that used to strike fear in the hearts of all the kids in class on Sunday mornings.

Nobody called me Timothy, but in a way I was surprised she even remembered my name, since even though we were neighbors we rarely saw each other these days.

"Timothy? I know you're in there," she informed me as I cowered behind the curtains. "I can either talk to you or go down to the mill and speak to your mother."

Shit. That was even worse, the thought of old lady Beckford going down to Mom at work and screaming about her perverted son in front of other people.

"What?" I said after opening the door a crack and trying not to make eye contact, and it occurred to me that now, having seen Martha Beckford with her clothes off, she looked different to me even through she was now fully dressed.

"I would like an explanation," Mrs. Beckford said, obviously freshly showered and looking like she usually did instead of the way she had an hour ago.

"Sorry."

"Sorry isn't an explanation," she informed me. "What gives you the right to trespass and violate my privacy?"

"I thought you might be getting robbed or something," I mumbled while babbling on, "saw the truck and it isn't garbage day..."

"Robbed? By who? Mr. Johnson? He's a member of our congregation and an upstanding member of our community. Do you think that just because he's a Negro he's a thief?"

"No," I said, and couldn't help but wonder whether The Can Man ever told her that this was 1971, and the term Negro had been replaced by black?

"Perhaps your mother will be able to get a better excuse out of you than that," Mrs. Beckford declared, and turned as if to leave.

"Maybe your husband would believe my explanation,"

I suggested, and when I saw that got old lady Beckford's attention I kept going. "When he gets home tonight I'll confess to him what I did."

Martha Beckford glared at me, and I did my best to return her steely look, and after I surprised myself by not withering away she seemed to change her mind.




Sunday School Teacher



"You realize that what you did was against the law, don't you Timothy?" she said coldly, but without the dramatic tone she had before. "I could press charges."

"I know," I agreed, and made an attempt at a kind of apology. "I never did it before and I won't ever do it again."

"Very well then. There is one thing though," Mrs. Beckford added, and leaned closer to the door and lowered her voice, even though no one was around. "When you - abused yourself outside my kitchen window, you made a horrible mess on the siding."

"Sorry," I mumbled, and knowing she had found that and knew that I was jerking off out there was worse that the peeking part.

"As long as you clean it up, I will consider it all a closed issue. Is that acceptable?"

It was, and after I told her I would be over in a few minutes she seemed satisfied. After I closed the door I went into the kitchen and got a small bucket and some cleaning supplies, but just before I headed across the street I happened to look down and saw that the front of my shorts were also - stained - let's say, a result of a too-quick holstering of my weapon in my haste to flee the scene.

I threw off my clothes and took a quick shower before putting on a tank up and a fresh pair of shorts. No sense going over there with the evidence of my activities so obvious. It was humiliating enough to have to crawl across the street as it was.

***



I had to admit that when I came all over the side of Martha Beckford's house, it must have been one hell of a load, judging by the amount of dried semen that was on the brown siding. The stains also didn't come out easy, and I had to repeatedly squirt the 409 on the stain to even begin to have the marks fade.

What the hell is in my cum to make this kind of stain, I wondered as I kept wiping and spraying the marks? Mom is good at getting stains out, I recall thinking. Maybe I should ask her what's the best way to remove semen stains from aluminum siding.

I chuckled at that thought, but kept cleaning away, wanting to end this humiliation as soon as possible, as well as not wanting to have to face Mrs. Beckford again. When I finally got it clean, I straightened up and looked into the kitchen window again, but this time the room was empty.

"Still involved in voyeuristic activities, Timothy?" a familiar voice asked from around the corner of the house, and there she was, scowling away.

"No - I - er - wanted to tell you that I was finished," I mumbled as I found myself on the defensive once again.

"Right. Of course you were," Mrs. Beckford said sarcastically as she looked at my work. "I suppose that's alright, although that part of the siding is now much cleaner than the rest."

I shrugged, and thought that if she was suggesting I scrub her entire house to make it all match, she was crazier than I thought.

"Come inside, Timothy," Mrs. Beckford. "Clean those toxic chemicals off your hands."

I began to tell her that I could wash up at home but she was beckoning me with her bony fingers just like she did when she made me go to the blackboard, so I followed her inside.

Mrs. Beckford had me wash my hands at the kitchen sink, under her watchful eye, and after she handed me a towel she sat down at the kitchen table and waited for me to dry off.

"I realize that it must be very difficult for a child to understand adults sometimes," Martha Beckford declared, bringing back more memories of Sunday School as she lectured me like I was still 9 years old. "Perhaps in time you will understand what you witnessed when you violated my privacy."

"Uh - I'm not a kid anymore, Mrs. Beckford, I said, gently reminding her that back in 1963 I was 10, but this was 1971, figuring that she could do the math - but she seemed to be oblivious.

"Oh, I'm aware that you fancy yourself as being adult," Mrs. Beckford said in her haughty tone. "One can't help but notice that you even have developed secondary sexual characteristics."

"Huh?"

"I'm referring to the fact that your have hair under your arms already," she announced, gesturing grandly towards me. "I can see it."

I glanced over at the hair peeking out from the armholes of my tank top and then looked at her in amazement. This old fossil must be out of her mind.

"You do too," I said, recalling that when she was getting humped over the very table she was leaning on, I had noticed she didn't shave her pits, making her look like one of the hippie chicks at school.

"I'm as the Creator made me," Mrs. Beckford sniffed. "Altering that would reflect negatively on his handiwork."

I shrugged, getting lost in her anatomy class becoming a theology lesson, and chose not to mention that it looked like she did shave her legs.

"Regardless of how you perceive yourself, one thing cannot be denied," Mrs. Beckford continued. "When you abuse your body as you did earlier, that is a sin. Certainly you remember that lesson."

"I guess," I mumbled, trying to figure out a way to get out of this lecture ASAP.

"Is that something you do a lot?" Martha Beckford asked. "Abuse yourself? I've heard that you hippies are very much involved in that sort of thing."

"Abuse? It's not abuse," I said, wanting to tell her that while I was doing it, abuse wasn't involved. How I became a hippie eluded me as well, because while my hair was a little long, I was miles away from being Jerry Garcia.

"It is abuse in his eyes, Timothy," Mrs. Beckford declared. "And you are ashamed of yourself, as you rightly should be. I can see it in your eyes."

"Ashamed of being caught," I mumbled into my shirt. "Not ashamed of doing it."

"So you think that it is all well and good to expose yourself in public and do - whatever it is you do?" she huffed. "Thankfully I've never been witness to such a thing, and is this something you do at home all the time? Pleasure yourself whenever you want? In front of your mother?"

"Let's leave my mother out of this," I said, getting a little irritated. "Mothers and husbands have nothing to do with any of this."

"You'll forgive me," Mrs. Beckford said. "I did not mean to disparage your mother. She's a fine woman who always helps out at the church bake sale, and she - I always thought she was a good mother to her children."

"She is."

"I was never blessed with children," Martha Beckford admitted. "Apparently that wasn't to be my place in the plan, so I don't understand children. I know that as our bodies change, we start thinking all of these demented thoughts. Dirty thoughts. We try to fight them - we must always try and fight them, and keep Satan out of our hearts and minds."

"Sometimes, like today, we fail," Mrs. Beckford confessed, and I watched her take off her glasses for a second and dry her eyes before putting them back on. "You failed, and I failed too. I failed horribly. I can only imagine what you must think of me after what you witnessed here today."

"I dunno," I said, although I really wanted to say that before today I had thought she was a dried out old bag who lived a boring life, but now thought she was kinda cool in a way, with a body that wasn't half-bad.

"Mr. Johnson and I - we have our demons like everyone else, and we often meet to discuss our fight to remain pure," Mrs. Beckford told me. "Sometimes, like today, we fail. Our minds waver and our bodies betray us, and before you know it, you end up fornicating."

Fornicating?

"I - uh - guess I don't know," I stammered.

"I think you do Timothy," Mrs. Beckford declared. "Since you fancy yourself a man, I assume that this is also something you and your fellow hippies do."

"I'm not a hippie," I said.

"Whatever you call yourself, we are all brothers and sisters in the end. So, is that what you often do?"

"Do what?"

"Fornicate. Take comfort in the pleasures of the flesh with girls - or other boys," Mrs. Beckford said.

"Guys? Hell no," I huffed.

"Please don't swear in my home. Girls then. Do you have relations with them?"

I shrugged my shoulders, once again being overloaded with all of this hypocritical babble. I say hell in her kitchen and she gets upset, but a couple of hours ago she was screaming "Fuck me!" to a garbage man and that was okay?

"I take by your silence that you don't do these things," Mrs. Beckford said. "Is that true, Timothy? Are you saying that you are a virgin?"

"Virgin?" I sneered, but under Mrs. Beckford's glare it didn't come out the way I wanted, and after I shuffled my feet and hemmed and hawed, I guess I sort of answered the question without the need for words.

"That's wonderful, Timothy," Mrs. Beckford said, actually smiling and rejoicing in the revelation that while I had managed one blow-job and 3 hand-jobs from the opposite sex in my 18 years, fornication, as she called it, had eluded me.

Oh, I could have changed that last month, when a couple of guys I play ball with dragged me into the woods and said they had a surprise for me. They had gotten Marcy Catalano drunk and there she was naked and for the taking in the grass, and these guys thought this would be a good time for me to break my maiden.

I didn't, of course, and got a lot of flack for not only refusing to take part, but for getting her dressed and making sure she got home safely. That was what the Tim Bakers of the world get, or so I figured, the joys of helping a semi-conscious girl stagger home, holding them upright while they get sick, and then baby-sitting with them until they become able to walk into their house under their own power.

"To be able to stay chaste in these times is a virtue," Martha determined. "I may have underestimated you, Timothy. It must be very difficult to remain a virgin, seeing as how these girls these days walk around half-naked all the time, not even having the decency to wear brassieres."

I shrugged my shoulders, not knowing what to say yet again.

"You know, you don't have to be afraid of me," Mrs. Beckford said softly, and then gestured for me to come closer to her. 

I took a couple of steps closer, and when I got within reach she reached out at took my hand, her long, bony fingers grabbing my damp ones.

"I would like to help you - to help us both," she said as her other hand reached over and grabbed my belt loop and pulled me closer until I was right in front of her. "It's just that I'm very sore right now."

I didn't know what she meant by that, but when I looked down I saw her staring at my crotch, which was eye-level to Mrs. Beckford. I could see the grey roots at the part of her black hair, and then she was looking up at me.

"Forgive me," she gasped, and I don't know if she was looking at me or up above when she was speaking. "Forgive me. I try - please know I do, but I'm so weak. So very very weak."

Then Martha Beckford was undoing my belt with those bony china-white fingers, one of them with a wedding ring attached, and after my belt came loose she was undoing my shorts and pulling them down.

What was I doing during this? Nothing. I remember looking toward the kitchen window, perhaps expecting The Can Man to be there looking at us. I also remember trying to get my dick to wake up, because while it was only average in size anyway, I was so scared that it felt it was trying to crawl into my body.

My underwear were coming down - clean underwear thankfully - and it was all I could do to figure out how to lift my legs to let Mrs. Beckford take the clothing from around my ankles. I felt so pathetic, not only for being so unable to act like a man - like Carl Johnson had just done - but for seeing Mrs. Beckford look at my shriveled dick, which was so puny in comparison.

"You've been blessed with a beautiful body, Timothy," Mrs. Beckford was saying as my knees trembled under her touch. "You should fall to your knees every evening and give thanks for that."

My dick was in Martha Beckford's hand, and she was caressing it in her palm while her other hand reached below and stroked my balls, which were doing the turtle act as well.

"Forgive me," she said again before leaning forward and making my peanut disappear into a warm and comforting place.

She's doing it, I recall thinking as I looked down and saw Mrs. Beckford's face nestled in the little tuft of golden brown curls above my dick. My cock was rolling around in her mouth, and as she sucked I felt myself come alive. It happened so fast I was tempted to shout out hallelujah or something, but within a minute my cock was hard.

"Look at you," Mrs. Beckford was saying as her lips moved away from what had become 6" of blue steel. "You ARE a man, Timothy. Thank you."

I had no idea what she was thanking me for, because I was in the middle of what felt like the wildest roller-coaster ride I had ever been on. When Mrs. Beckford went back down on me, I came to realize that while my dick had been in Beth Kramer's mouth once (and had enjoyed it very much), what Martha Beckford was doing bore no relation to Beth's efforts.

Her lips plunged down the shaft, seeming to try and inhale my cock as she forced her mouth down hard around the stump, her head shaking back and forth like a puppy playing with a toy, and then her mouth would slide back up to the tip.

All the while my balls were still being played with, and since they had been loosened up in her warm palm while my nervousness evaporated, she was now pulling on a squeezable loose sac, milking it crazily while she gobbled up my dick.

I wanted to undo her hair from the bun it was in, so it would be wild and free as it had been before, but suddenly Mrs. Beckford was off of the chair she had been perched on the edge of, and was on her knees in front of me.

Now her hands were on my bare ass, her nails digging deep into my flesh as she pulled me close to her, and if I thought what she was doing to my cock was crazy, it paled in comparison with what followed.

Her mouth moved up and down the length of my cock so fast my head was spinning just watching her, and then she was lifting my dick out of the way to suck on my balls. First the left one, and then the right one went into her mouth sucking so hard that there was a loud popping sound when she let them go.

I think she might have tried to stick both of them in her mouth at some point before she went back to my cock. Her glasses were crooked on her face, and the lenses looked foggy as I looked down at Mrs. Beckford snorting and making weird noises while inhaling my cock.

I couldn't have held back my orgasm if I tried, my knees buckling when I finally erupted in Martha's mouth, and she was swallowing loudly while I came. My legs were barely able to hold me up as my orgasm washed over me, and Mrs. Beckford may have actually been holding me up at one point, so powerful was my orgasm.

"Oh!" I groaned as my dick withered in her mouth, but old lady Beckford kept sucking like I hadn't even cum yet.

Certainly she had to have known that I had, because even if I didn't cum as much as it felt like I had, my dick shriveling up must have given her a clue, but she didn't stop. If anything, she got even more energetic, stretching out my flaccid pecker as far as she could each time she leaned back.

Her hands were still clawing my ass, but I felt them start to pry my cheeks apart. I almost knocked over the table when I felt her finger digging into my ass crack in search of my anus, and when she found it I cried out in shock.

She was making snorting and squealing noises, and I was groaning as I felt my rectum being probed by her bony finger. Since the sucking on my spent dick had started to become a bit uncomfortable, I was tempted to pull myself away from her, and if the prospects of anything like this ever happening to me again weren't so remote I probably would have.

I didn't, and then something happened. Her penetrating finger started to rub into someplace different, and the probing changed from intrusive to something indescribable. It felt so damn good all of a sudden that I found myself swaying around like a marionette on strings.

Perhaps a puppet would be a better description, because I was dancing with Martha Beckford's finger playing the tune. My dick started to get hard again, and while it never got fully erect again, it got energized enough so that I felt myself hanging on the brink of an other orgasm for what felt like forever.

I think I was bouncing on my toes by then, pushing myself as far into Martha Beckford's mouth as I could while I teetered on the edge, and I think I was babbling something myself as Mrs. Beckford tried to swallow my dick while it was still attached to me. 

I came again, and although I don't know if I really ejaculated all that much, the feeling was every bit as intense as if I did. Crouching over Martha, I was hugging her head as she siphoned what was left out of me, and then I was begging for her to stop because I was about to fall down or pass out, whichever came first.

"I'm sorry, Timothy," she whimpered, and I found myself going down to the floor with her, hugging her and letting her cry on my shoulder as she kept apologizing, either to me or to a higher power.

"Can you ever forgive me?" Mrs. Beckford said after she gained a little self-control, and all I could do was nod as she cradled my head in her hands.

I said of course I could, and then she kissed me on my forehead, a sweet touch that reminded me of my Grandma. We got to our feet and after I stood there wondering what I should do, Mrs. Beckford picked up my underwear and shorts and untwisted them before handing them to me.

"See?" she said, watching me put my underwear on. "We try, but sometimes even our best intentions cannot overcome the demons within. Do you understand?"

"I think so," I said, too busy wondering whether the ache in my balls was the result of my nuts being drained, or due to a permanent injury caused by being compressed in Martha Beckford's oral vacuum.

"What has happened here today must never be spoken of again to anyone else," Mrs. Beckford said, straighting out her dress and getting back into her usual self. "Especially your mother."

"I know."

"I would like you to come back over tomorrow, if that's possible," she asked. "We need to get ourselves straightened out, and discuss what has taken place here."

"Sure," I replied. "What time?"

"Any time after 8:45 in the morning will be fine," Mrs. Beckford informed me and then stuck out her hand.

"Okay," I said as I stuck my hand and shook hers, which struck me as a weird way to say goodbye after what had just gone on, and I wondered whether Can Man Johnson had gotten a handshake when he left.

I went back home the same way I had arrived earlier, and when I got home I went into the bathroom and examined my privates. My ass felt a little funny from that crazy probing, but that was fading away. My dick was pink but was still attached and my balls looked the same as they had as well. Any worry that there was damage done disappeared when I found myself jerking off after having trouble falling asleep later that night.

"Oh Martha," I groaned just before popping a load into a tissue, imagining what Martha Beckford wanted to talk to me about the next day, and wondering if I should go.

To think that 24 hours earlier I had probably been doing the same thing, jerking off, only Martha Beckford had not been the inspiration then, and wouldn't have been if the list of women had a million names. Now, she was all I could think about.

***

Timothy decides whether or not to return...



Sunday School Teacher Day 02



This story is a sequel to the original "Sunday School Teacher", and I was happy to see that readers were enjoying it as much as I did writing it. Therefore, this is the continuation of young Timothy's strange summer.

You might wish to read the original story before tackling this one. Timothy is 18 years of age.

****

My folks probably thought I was weird, getting up before them even though I was on summer break. Me showering and getting dressed at the crack of dawn was also strange, but I suspect they were used to my erratic behavior by now after watching me for 18 years.

I even shaved, although I really didn't need to do that, and sprinkled a dash of my father's Old Spice on my neck to give me that manly scent that women supposedly loved. After picking out a button down shirt and slacks, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

It looked like I was going to church or something, and in effect it was a little like that. After having been educated in many ways by the woman who lived a bit down and across the road from me, I had decided to take her up on her invitation to visit her again this morning. You might think that this was a no-brainer, but there were dangers involved. 

If you recall yesterday, after watching Martha Beckford, my old Sunday School teacher and Can Man Carl Johnson, the trash man, practically destroy the Beckford's kitchen in a flurry of fellatio and fornication while I watched from outside the window, I was caught peeking at them.

What followed then was detailed in the previous story, but the end result was me getting my dick sucked - and nearly sucked clean off - by a middle-aged woman that I had thought was an old dried-up prude. Afterward, she apologized and said she wanted me to return the next morning so we could talk about what had happened.

Given her erratic and erotic behavior, I was hoping that she wanted me over there to give me head again, but there was also the possibility that she really did want to talk to me. The thought of sitting through a lecture about the sins of the flesh and how weak we were spiritually, when I could be out playing ball with the guys, had no appeal for me.

The second, and more scary reason for concern was that Martha Beckford was a married woman. Her husband John owned and operated a religious goods store in the city. He was a skinny version of Lurch from the Addams Family TV show, and while I didn't know him more than to nod at him whenever our paths crossed, I didn't think he would appreciate having his wife sucking a neighbor kid's dick.

That was why I assumed that Mrs. Beckford had asked me to come over after 8:45, and my assumption proved correct when I watched through my bedroom window and saw Mr. Beckford backing his rusty old Mercury Comet out the driveway at 8:42 and then down the road.

I waited for the car to disappear, and that took a while because John Beckford drove like the talked and walked. Very slowly. In time, the car disappeared from view and I left the house, making my way to the Beckford's in the same serpentine fashion I had the day before.

This was a somewhat rural area, and while there were many houses within view, I didn't want anybody to see me going over there. Oddly enough, I would have been most embarrassed if one of my friends saw me going over to see Martha Beckford. I would never live that down.

That's because they didn't know Martha Beckford like I did. They knew her as the old bag who looked like Jane Hathaway from the Beverly Hillbillies show, strict and straight-laced Sunday School teacher who rapped the knuckles of rude boys and wouldn't say shit if she had a mouthful.

I had seen the other side of Mrs. Beckford, seen and experienced a very different woman. I had seen her naked as well, my first actual witnessing of a fully undressed female, and while I could never claim that she was a ravishing beauty, the fact was that she didn't look all that bad. She even had boobs, despite the outward appearance. 

Making my way through the little patch of woods, I arrived at the kitchen window like I had yesterday, and there was Mrs. Beckford sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. Not wanting to have her catch me looking at her like that again, I went to the back door and tapped lightly on the screen.

"Come in Timothy," Martha said, and it wasn't only the coldness in her voice that made me think I made a mistake in coming over, but the expression on her face gave me the impression that she wasn't all that happy to see me.

Then again, I didn't recognize the expression on her face yesterday as she was clawing at my ass, snorting and wild-eyed while she inhaled my dick either.

"Morning, Mrs. Beckford," I said with a tight-lipped smile.

"Sit down Timothy," Martha said, gesturing to the chair opposite her, and I almost didn't, because the Bible was on the table and I sensed I was going to get the hellfire and brimstone Martha Beckford instead of the cock-sucking version.

"I had hoped you wouldn't come," she said coldly as she watched me sit down.

"But - you told me to."

"I know," Mrs. Beckford responded. "I know I did, but I shouldn't have. Have you thought about yesterday? About what you saw? About you did? About what we did?"

"Yeah," I replied, and I wanted to tell her that I had spent every waking minute thinking about it, and loving every second of it.

"Did you pray?"

"Uh - yeah," I answered, not adding that my prayers were along the lines of hoping that my dick would end up in her mouth again.

"I did too," Mrs. Beckford said, and sighed deeply. "You look very nice today, Timothy."

"Oh. Uh - thank you."

"Such a handsome boy," Mrs. Beckford added. "You could use a haircut, but still you're a marvelous creation."

I shrugged my shoulders, not realizing that a kid who was a mediocre student, could field but not hit a lick in baseball, and had a masturbation habit that seemed incurable, could be termed a marvelous creation.

"Stand up for me, Timothy," Mrs. Beckford asked, and when I did she looked me up and down and sighed. "A beautiful child."

"Uh, thanks I guess, but I'm not a child anymore," I said, as Mrs. Beckford still seemed to look at me like I was 8 instead of 18.

"I understand. Would you disrobe for me?"

"Pardon?" I responded, and when she repeated the request I shrugged my shoulders and asked, "Here?"

"Yes Timothy," she said, her piercing eyes looming large behind those horn-rimmed glasses. 

I felt stupid unbuttoning my shirt under Mrs. Beckford's watchful eye, and when she reminded me to fold the shirt instead of leaving it in a ball, it was like being in class again. My shoes came off, the belt came loose, and then I was dropping my slacks. 

My snug white fruit-of-the-looms showed the outline of my semi-erection very clearly, but Martha told me to take my socks off, and after I did I stood there in the middle of the kitchen with my hands cupped over my bulge.

When I looked at Mrs. Beckford, she merely nodded in the directed of my briefs. For some reason I glanced over to the kitchen window, almost expecting for Can Man Johnson to be looking in, but there was no one watching, so I slipped my underwear down.

I heard Martha exhale loudly, her breath coming out sounding like a steam engine huffing, and then she seemed to look past me for a moment before our eyes met again.

"What you did yesterday, Timothy," Martha Beckford said, sounding like she was out of breath or something. "Outside the window. When you abused yourself? Show me."

"Show me," Mrs. Beckford repeated when I just stood there. "I want to see what you were doing when you were watching Mr. Johnson and I."

"Right here?"

"Please," she asked in a softer voice. "I need to see. I need to understand."

"This?" I asked, taking my dick between my thumb and index finger and giving it a tug. "You want me to jerk off?"

Mrs. Beckford nodded, and that was when I started pulling on my dick, which had gone limp from the confusion and the conversation. I wanted to tell her that I if she put it in her mouth that it would be a lot quicker, but instead I just tugged and tugged, and tugged some more.

"Kind of nervous," I said sheepishly while I tried to get aroused.

"I know," Martha said. "Do you do this a lot?"

"I guess," I said, not knowing what a lot was.

"What do you think about when - you do this?" she asked.

"Girls," I said. "Like Raquel Welch and Karen Valentine and Grace Slick."

"Are those school mates of yours?" Mrs. Beckford asked.

"No," I mumbled. "They're famous people," and then for some reason I added that last night I did it and thought about her.

"Me?" Mrs. Beckford said in a shocked voice, and it was then that I realized two things.

One was that her left hand, the one trying to casually reach for her tea cup, was shaking. The second thing was that her right hand was no longer on the table, but was in her lap and her arm was moving a little.

"Yes," I confessed. "I thought about you. Stuff you did to me, and stuff your did with the Can Man."

"Mr. Johnson," Martha said, correcting me. "You thought about him?"

"No, not about him," I said, although that wasn't exactly true because it would have been impossible to think about the two of them without him in the picture, and even though I had no interest in the appendage he used on old Mrs. Beckford, you had to be impressed by it. 

"And you abused yourself while thinking about me?"

"Yes ma'am," I admitted. 

Mrs. Beckford let out a little wheeze at that, and as I watched trickles of sweat roll down the sides of her face it struck me. She was playing with herself. Mrs. Martha Beckford, 46 year old married woman and Sunday School teacher, was playing with her pussy while watching me jerk off.

My reaction? I took a step and a half to the side so I could see under the table, and now I was within her reach as I craned my neck to see what I could see. What could Martha see? She could see that my cock was so hard it could have cut diamonds.

I was just about to ask her to let me look when she said, "Don't - not yet please,"

"Don't what? Don't cum?" I asked, and as Mrs. Beckford nodded she leaned back and swung her legs out from under the table.

While she had the bathrobe still in place and tied at the waist, which had given me the impression that she was just sitting there watching me at first, the robe was wide open below the waist, and now she faced me, her legs spread wide open as she sat in the chair.

"Aw geez!" I groaned when I saw the forest of black hair between her pale, skinny thighs, and the fingers she had inside of herself, her wrist wiggling furiously in full view.

Thankfully she didn't mistake my uttering "geez" for anything else, because a scolding would have ruined the moment. Martha had done that to herself yesterday afternoon while she was sucking Mr. Johnson's cock, and I had thought it was really sexy, but doing it for me, while looking at me? Geez!

I slowed down my stroking and grabbed my balls with my free hand, squeezing them tightly in an effort to keep from cumming, but that was going to be a losing battle no matter how loosely I held my dick or how slow I went.

"Timothy," Mrs. Beckford grunted, and now I was being pulled toward her, and my cock was disappearing between her lips. while she made squealing noises and squirmed in her chair.

Not that I would have lasted, but when I looked down and saw that it looked like she had her whole hand inside of her pussy, I erupted, grabbing hand-fulls of her bathrobe at her shoulders to keep from falling as I came like a machine gun.

When I finally stopped cumming, my dick fell out of her mouth and Martha eased back into the chair. Her glasses were still on but crooked, and her face was dripping with sweat and maybe tears too as she stared at me with glazed eyes, with some of my cum drooling out of the side of her mouth.

"You should leave, Timothy," she finally said after her breathing returned to normal.

Should leave? Did that mean she wanted me to leave or was it just a suggestion. I sure didn't want to leave. I wanted more, and seeing Martha's long bony fingers coming out from inside of her with all four fingers glistening wet, I wasn't going to volunteer to leave.

"I don't want to," I finally managed to say.

"I'm horrible. I'm evil. I'm going to hell and I can't be responsible for ruining your life," Martha said, and the tears were really there. "I can't - control myself. Save yourself."

"You're not horrible," I said, confused and very naked, with my spent dick a foot away from Martha's face. "You're a nice lady. I like you - a lot."

I don't think Martha Beckford had been told that by many people, and frankly I couldn't believe I had actually uttered those words to her, but it was true. She was a hypocrite, and if not crazy than at least a little twisted, but so was I.

"I don't want to ruin you," she said, another Martha appearing, a kinder and gentler one, almost vulnerable. "You're still pure. If you stay..."

I was no more pure than anyone else, maybe less so. I had masturbated outside this woman's house yesterday, for crying out loud, but I guess she meant by pure that I was a virgin, a fact she had managed to get out of me the day before.

Mrs. Beckford stood up, gathering her robe around her lower half with as much dignity as she could muster, and after folding my socks and briefs she put them on top of my other clothes. She gathered up the pile with her right hand, and with her left hand she took my sweaty paw and led me out of the kitchen and down the hall.

***

This was going to happen. I had planned this moment for my entire teenage life, but never had I imagined such a bizarre scenario would surround losing my virginity. The girls I had fantasized about doing it with were out of my league, but in my fantasies I was a masterful lover and brought them to mind-boggling orgasms.

This was different. This was a real woman, not some girl as inexperienced as I was, and I was stuck following a guy who not only knew what he was doing, but had equipment that dwarfed mine. I was in over my head, and scared shit-less.

The bedroom. It looked as much like a shrine as the rest of the house, and the bed was huge. She hadn't made the bed, and the outlines of the two people that had slept in it last night were still visible in the sheets.

The door was closing behind me, and I heard the click of a lock that sounded like a cell door being secured. What did Jack Slater say about his first time? What were the things he did, and the order that he did them? 

What was I doing naked in Martha Beckford's bedroom? What was I supposed to do next? Now Mrs. Beckford was in front of me, and she somehow had gotten even taller than she already was. I was eye-level with her neck, which looked like it belonged on a giraffe, and she was staring at me while waiting for me to do something.

Mrs. Beckford reached up and took her glasses off, the red mark standing out on the bridge of her over-sized nose. She looked different without the glasses; her eyes now big and dark on their own, and the thick dark eyebrows clearly visible.

After she set the glasses on the dresser, she came back in front of me, swallowing along with me as my mind went blank.

"I - I don't know what I'm supposed to do," I finally said.

"You are the man," Mrs. Beckford said softly. "I am your vessel. You can have me as you wish."

I reached my hands up toward her, and then retracted them. Think, stupid, I said to myself. You've made out with girls before.

But this was different. before when I was groping and feeling up girls I was doing it knowing damn well that any second I was going to get stopped or slapped, but that wasn't going to happen here.

Mercifully, Martha took my hands and put them on the lapels of her robe, and pretty much had me pulling the cloth open, letting it slide off her bony shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

She was wearing a bra, and nothing else. The dingy white harness looked older than I was, and after I looked to see whether it opened in the front or not (something I didn't do once and instead fumbled in the back for the non-existent hooks while Beth Kramer giggled), I reached around Martha and tried to undo it while avoiding touching her.

Mrs. Beckford turned around and made life easier for me. I still struggled with the three hooks, but when the last one came free and the elastic slipped out of my hands, she turned around and let me pull it off of her.

Mrs. Beckford's grapefruit-sized breasts loomed in front of me, their pink pebbled aureoles about the size of silver dollars, with pencil-top erasers for nipples. I managed to get my mind and limbs working long enough to be able to put my hands on them.

"Nice," I whispered softly, the globes not as firm as the ones I had experienced before, but still feeling nice in my palms as I massaged them. They would look bigger on a smaller woman, but on this tall and broad shouldered frame, they looked lost on the wide pale expanse around them.

Martha Beckford sighed, so I kept on with my crude foreplay, practically treating them like bicycle horns while the older woman swayed from side to side as she looked up to the ceiling.

Then I was being brought over to the bed, with Mrs. Beckford's hands clutched over my own, squeezing my hands onto her breasts and bringing me over to the edge of the mattress.

My dick was not hard. I had just cum a few minutes ago out in the kitchen, but it was more a case of nervousness that was keeping me soft. Her gazelle like frame eased onto the bed with surprising grace, and then I followed on top of her.

Martha was squirming backward and now her hands were on my shoulders. Looking down, I saw her body slide beneath me as I held myself up with my hands. Her breasts moved past me, and then the long expanse of pale white flesh with the stomach flat and her ribs showing along with the hips.

Her belly button was in front of my eyes, and then a tiny sliver of down went from right beneath it, winding down until it disappeared into the timeline of her bush. Her bush - what a wild jungle of curly black hair it was - fanning way out towards her hips and disappearing between her legs.

I couldn't see the opening, although the hair was sparkling and darker where I suspected it to be. The smell was something unfamiliar to me, and while I had sensed the aroma out in the kitchen, now with her primed pussy inches from my nose, the scent was almost dizzying.

Martha's hands were on the back of my head, pushing me down between her thighs, which were now parting. The smell was sending shivers down my spine as my cheeks were buffeted by her pubic hair, and then my mouth was slipping into a warm moist fold.

I had no idea what I was supposed to do so I started licking, not in any particular place, but just lapping away like a hound dog. The taste was as foreign as the scent had been, but while it was tart and unpleasant at first, the more I licked the less bitter it got.

Mrs. Beckford's hands were moving my head, pulling it upward, and when my tongue got up to the top of her opening I heard her groan. Taking that as a good sign, I started licking faster and harder, and soon her moaning and groaning got louder and turned into screams.

The hands that were guiding my face were now pulling at my hair, grinding my face into her pussy until her thighs smashed against the sides of my head. Her body jerked around wildly under me as my mouth kept slobbering into her incredibly wet sex, until her screaming finally stopped.

As I stayed on top of Martha, my tongue aching as my mouth stayed between her labia and my face rested in her bush, all I could think off was that it was lucky the houses in our somewhat rural area were far apart.

It also occured to me that after all that, my tongue was tired but my dick was re-energized. Was I supposed to do it now? I raised my face out of the steaming cauldron that was her pussy, and looked up for guidance.




Sunday School Teacher Day 02



Mrs. Beckford was breathing heavy, and the hands that had been pulling my hair were now by her sides. I was kneeling between her skinny thighs with my boner bobbing in front of me, and when Martha looked down and saw it she nodded, and as she nodded I felt her hand take my dick and bring it to her.

As I knelt there above her, I felt my dick slide into someplace so warm and wet, and so snug it felt like I was being swallowed up. Nothing ever felt like this before, and as I sank all of myself into Mrs. Beckford, I realized I was grinning like a hyena. 

Looking down, I didn't recognize the woman beneath me. This wasn't the dour Sunday School teacher with the sour personality, nor was it the crazed sex-fiend from the kitchen whose actions were lewd and crude.

I didn't see any of that. The woman below me didn't have a big nose with a mark where the glasses usually were, or bushy eyebrows and grey at the roots of her black hair.

The woman below me was smiling, maybe as widely as I was, showing my pearly white teeth that I had rarely seen. She looked like an angel as her hands came to my face, holding my cheeks as her thighs clamped around my butt, and then she was kissing me, swallowing my tongue as we began to rock in each other's embrace.

I would like to say that I made her cum - gave her an orgasm that rattled the bed frame - but that didn't happen. She sighed and moaned as I moved in and out of her, but seemed to be taking her pleasure from the pleasure I was getting, and when I came she gasped a little while my dick jerked inside of her.

I might have been crying after I came, so thrilled that I had actually done it, somehow managing to get through the act without humiliating myself, but I don't remember. All I knew was that I was happy, and the woman that I still didn't recognize seemed to be happy too.

I thought that might be the end of it, but as I learned it was only the beginning.

***

The rest of the day was even more bizarre than I could have imagined, although not in a bad way. Mrs. Beckford rarely spoke to me, but was always looking at me, examining my body as if she found it interesting. That was off-putting at first, but I grew to revel in her attention.

After all, nearly every female I had ever come in contact with had somehow managed to avoid being hypnotized by its very ordinary features, so while I didn't get it, I loved it.

I spoke little to Martha Beckford either. We couldn't have much in common, no matter how much I strained for something to say. I didn't think she knew much about the Boston Celtics, or what she thought about the Baltimore Orioles starting rotation, and doubted if she even knew who Jim Palmer was. 

Bringing up old Sunday School experiences wouldn't go over well either, I suspected, so that was out. As for the only other thing I knew about her, Can Man Johnson, even I knew better than to say anything about that now while I was in her bed.

So we had sex. Virtually non-stop sex, and when we weren't fucking or sucking our hands and mouths were doing something to each other in preparation for the next time. I found myself being more an more turned on by Martha Beckford's body, and grew to appreciate where she liked being touched the best.

As for Martha Beckford's fascination with me, it bordered on worship, and I say that with as much confusion today as I had then. It was as if I had turned into Paul McCartney or Rock Hudson, even though I had looked in enough mirrors to know that the truth was far different.

How many times did we have sex? If I actually knew the number (and I could make an educated guess about that), you wouldn't believe me if I mentioned it so I won't. Heck, even I can't believe it. Chalk it up to being 18, dumb and very full of cum, as well as having held a lot of myself in for too many years. Once the floodgates were unlocked, I was not about to turn away from anything.

After that initial coupling, for the next 7+ hours I grew more and more confident, to the point where by the end of the day I might not have been able to say I was any good, but I suspect I wasn't bad. That I could tell by Martha's reactions.

We did take a break for lunch. Mrs. Beckford simply rolled over towards me after we had just uncoupled and said, "Would you like lunch, Timothy?", and I said okay.

I had tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich out in the same kitchen where this crazy morning had begun. Mrs. Beckford put her bathrobe on, but I stayed naked. That wasn't my idea, it was Martha's, who simply told me I didn't need to get dressed when I began to put on my underwear after rolling out of her bed.

"Not necessary," Martha said as she took me by the hand and led me to the kitchen.

She shared the can of Campbell's with me, but as she sat kitty-corner from me at the table her eyes never left my dick, even moving the napkin I had placed on my lap so she could keep an eye on it.

Completely unremarkable tube of flesh it was, especially compared to the other one I knew she was familiar with, but it really captured her attention. She had remarked earlier that she felt bad for me because I had been, in her words, "mutilated at birth", a reference to my being circumcised, but my "deformity" certainly didn't appear to bother her.

As soon as my spoon rested in the empty soup bowl Mrs. Beckford was down on her knees halfway under the table, gobbling up my limp dick and somehow making it come back to life. She dragged me back into the bedroom and off we went again, since apparently having sex wasn't like swimming where you had to abstain right after you ate.

This time Martha went on top, and this new position really turned me on, seeing her straddling me with her boobs looking bigger as they swayed down in front of me. We must have worked our way through half of Kama Sutra already that day even though I was ignorant of everything and only went along with what ever contortion she positioned us into.

It got a little kinky toward the end of the afternoon. For some reason Mrs. Beckford started talking about me being the man, and being so much more powerful and dominant she felt like I could do anything I wanted to her and she would be unable to stop me. 

My ignorance was genuine, because I didn't want to do anything she didn't want to do, and was quite content with the menu she had been offering.

No, she insisted. I was the hunter and the gatherer, and as such she was at my mercy since I could overpower her at any time and do the most vile and disgusting things I could think of. That was the way of the world and how it should be.

I didn't get it, and still didn't get it even after she burrowed around in a closet and came out with a couple of pieces of rope and a jar of Vaseline, throwing them on the bedding and climbing onto the bed face down.

"You could overpower me," she insisted, even though the thought that I could overcome her superior height and surprising strength would have been in doubt. "You could pin me down - tie my wrists to the bedposts - and have me any way you choose. You could even take me anally, and I would be helpless to stop you. You could savage me if you chose."

In the end, she almost had to tie her own wrists to the headboard, but by then even I caught on to what she was up to. That was how I found myself kneeling behind Martha, who lay spread-eagled face down on the bed with a pillow under her abdomen, her barely discernible rear end raised up and every bit as vulnerable as she wanted to be.

"No," Mrs Beckford sobbed after instructing me what to do with the lubricant. "It hurts."

"You like it," I snarled, albeit meekly, as I repeated what she had told me to say while I slid my oiled finger into her fur-ringed anus.

My only prior experience in that part of the body had been when Mrs. Beckford's finger had probed me back there, and she had managed to find whatever magic button I had that triggered almost immediate erections, so I tried to do what she had done to me.

"Timothy no!" Mrs. Beckford cried out when I brought the tip of my greased dick to that brown ring, and I did my best to ignore what she was saying, just like she had told me. "Oh no father! It hurts. Daddy please don't put your thing there."

I didn't understand anything she was saying, and the whole scenario was weird, except I loved that it was very warm and very tight in that cavity, and it felt very nice as I held onto Martha's bony hips and pounded into her ass as hard as I could, while she kept begging for mercy.

In no time. the ropes had come loose from the bedposts, courtesy of the lousy tying job I did, but Martha kept her hands up there right up until her body started undulating beneath me. She started making feral noises; growling, snarling and moaning while she tore at the bedding.

I hung on for dear life, even when it felt like she almost snapped my dick in two when her anus contracted around my cock, and after she stopped convulsing I emptied my balls into her rectum.

"Ahh!" came the sound from the wet and almost lifeless body beneath me as I spurted my load deep into her bowels, and after I rested my sweaty body onto her equally wet back, my dick slithered out of her anus.

"Are you all right, Timothy?" Mrs. Beckford asked me as we climbed off of the bed and she examined me. "Would you like something for your knees?"

It was then that I realized that the blood stains on the sheets were coming from by knees, which over the course of the day had become raw from being on my knees so much. My elbows and palms were also sore, but nothing like my knees.

"No, I'm okay," I insisted, even after Martha expressed concern over what my mother would say when she saw me. "I'm always getting banged up playing ball."

The bed was another matter. The floral sheets were drenched with our sweat and assorted bodily fluids, so Martha stripped the bed and brought out new bedding after tossing the dirty bedding in her washing machine.

She seemed pleasntly surprised that I helped her make the bed, and after she corrected the minor flaws I had made in the corners, she seemed quite content with it all.

"4:34," she announced after looking at the clock. "We need to get you cleaned up so you're out of here by your supper time."

I suspect that I had to be out of there before 6:15, which is when her husband got back after closing up their religious goods store and arrived back home, but I was so drained that I didn't complain at being eased out.

Martha brought me into the bathroom, and after turning on the shower, had me climb in with her. Their shower was a lot nicer and bigger than mine was at home, which was a good thing because we ended up scrubbing each other up.

If my friends could only see me now, I remember thinking as I soaped up Martha's breasts, the soft flesh yielding under my lathered hands. If they could see old lady Beckford too, I thought, they would not believe it. What a different woman she was under the clothes, and even the parts of a woman I never thought I would enjoy, became playgrounds for my hands and mouth.

Martha lifted her arms and let me work the soap under her arms, the deep pockets that might have never seen a razor having had a strange effect on me over the course of the day. As I lathered her armpits she smiled, having noticed my growing fascination with them, and let me have my fun. I had even gotten over the embarassment of her having more hair under her arms than I did.

Somehow, as we played around with the soap I began to get another erection, even though my dick was crimson and a little sore, and when it poked her thigh Martha reached down and grabbed it.

"Insatiable," she said, shaking her head as she squeezed my dick. "What animals we are. Incorrigible beasts not fit to walk the earth. Let me clean you."

I wasn't sure what insatiable meant, and incorrigible sure didn't sound all that flattering, but that was as Sunday School Teacher-ish as Martha had gotten all day, so it didn't bother me.

So I let Martha scrub me, and then when she maneuvered me around to face away from her and had me bend over and spread my legs, I did as she asked, even putting my left foot up on the edge of the tub.

"Oh!" I sighed when I felt a wet finger enter my back door, and as she screwed her digit around inside of me I groaned as she thoroughly cleaned me.

"OH!" I cried out a moment later, clutching the back rim of the tub when the feeling got quite different, and when I looked down between my legs through the shower spray I saw that Mrs. Beckford was kneeling behind me.

What was working around me back there wasn't as long as her finger, but the feeling was indescribable. I watched her hand reach up between my legs and grab my arching prong, and while her fist moved up and down my slippery organ I felt her tongue probe intimately into me.

Somehow I came yet again after a time, but while the little semen that dribbled out of me was hardly noticeable as it hit the tub floor, the intensity of my orgasm nearly made me faint. Mrs. Beckford kept yanking on my withered dick long after I came, and only the fact that the warm shower spray was turning cold stopped her tongue from working.

"Sorry," she said after turning off the shower. "I forgot I turned on the washer."

"That's okay," I mumbled, not knowing what to say to a woman who just gave me a rim job before I even knew what had hit me.

Disgusting. We were like animals. She was right. I needed to be healed - to be saved - and as soon as possible.

"Um - tomorrow," I stammered after we got dressed and I headed for the back door with Mrs. Beckford. "Would it be okay if I came over tomorrow?"

"You would want to?" she asked, and then stopped herself. "Oh - tomorrow. Thursday. I'm sorry Timothy. I have business to attend to."

"Oh," I said, displaying a bit of a pout that used to work on my Mom before she got wise to me.

"Friday though," she added quickly. "I don't know whether or not you have plans, but I would..."

"Friday!" I chirped. "Okay. 8:45?"

She nodded and kissed me on the forehead as she clasped my hands.

"I enjoyed your company very much, Timothy," she said as I left. "Be a good boy. I'll pray for you."

"Me too," I responded before making my serpentine way back home, praying for Thursday to pass by quickly so that I could come back for more.

***

Day Three will follow - the final installment of the story. Thank you for reading, and I appreciate your support and welcome your comments.