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The Day We Did Janey

By: ClodiaP



I had never seen anything like it, but that summer I had finished only my first year of college. I never had seen a real cunt of a real girl at all—just lots of open-crotch shots online. I would not have believed it possible and almost felt sorry for Janey, who maybe felt like a freak.

"It" was almost two inches long, shaped like a little pink canoli-a tube slightly fluted at the ends. I'm talking about her clit, of course. It stood out amazing rigid and assertive against the folds and creases and slit of her pussy, which in turn was spread wide open.

And from the end of the clit thrust toward us protruded a soft pink head, just like the head of a little penis, pink and slick and with a little slit at the top. This girl was showing it all.

Janey was naked and flat on her back on the chipped and soiled but sturdy oak table. Her ankles, circled twice with rope-and her thighs, too—were wrenched wide apart and secured. Janey was shaved clean, but with a thick triangle of very curly, deep auburn hair been left atop her high, rounded, fleshy mound. She might have been busy, lately; where her pussy was shaved the hair was coming back, with very short dark bristles from the edge of her cunt to an inch or so up either thigh. She was a hairy girl.

Several cellphone cameras were going off, now, and Janey was straining and twisting on the table, moaning, "No, please, no..."

She had been a lot feistier than that when she first realized she had walked into a trap.

Actually, why should I feel sorry—almost sorry—for Jane Morrissey? In our senior year at high school she had been "The Bitch," a girl with a startling chest, broad hips and big ass, nice legs... Very pretty, too, with an upturned freckled nose, full lips, and auburn hair cut short and stylishly; her mother was our town's most sought-after hair stylist.

It had been easy for her to first tease, then seduce, one horny guy after another during our last year-tease them and then slam them down for being "fresh." It was a game with her. She played her boobs and her cute face and her hips like a movie preview for a movie you never got to see.

When I had told Barry that I might ask her to the senior prom, he had shaken his head and said, with a big grin, "Oh, you'll have a barrel of fun with Janey." I figured he was jealous; Janey was a big girl, but desirable. When she did consent to be my prom date, a lot of people envied me. And, oh, yes, she came across: a prom gown so revealing that all my buddies got in trouble with their dates—for staring. But when it came to the big moment, parked in my Dad's car beside the lake, she was one of the "The Untouchables." She literally sneered at my obvious arousal and said, "Just don't try anything, that's all..."

She had a right, of course. But later, when I heard she had regaled her friends with stories about my hilarious horny frustration, I admit I was hurt.

Now, her pale wrists, with more freckles, were bound and stretched out, fastened to the table's legs. Janey always had a big chest, filling and more than filling her black sweaters. But none of us had ever seen her boobs. Now, we were having a good look. With her wrists and shoulders hauled back, so her chest was stretched and pushed up, the mounts rose round and perfect, as lust-provoking as we ever imaged, each crowned with a spreading dark nipple that now was very stiff, the skin at its based crinkled hard. Janey sure was on display.

She had shrieked, pleading, "No, no, no, not that," when her over-sized, well-wired bra had come off. But come off it did, and the big boobs with the broad brown nipples now sloped slightly to the side with sheer weight. Of course, her protests at losing her bra were nothing like when her panties came down, sliding right over the fleshly mound with the auburn tuft and down the long, sturdy legs.

Poor Janey. I have to tell you what happened our senior year when I and few other guys had a sort of camp-over night at her house with her twin brother, Timmy. We all were just 18 and still liked that sort of thing. As soon as we got settled around the room on our camp beds, all in our proper pajamas, Janey sailed into the room in a negligee. "Just came to say goodnight," she said breezily. She wasn't supposed to be there at all. So her brother, Timmy, takes one look her and gives a long, low, very rude and appreciative whistle. What do you expect? Under the gauzy negligee her big tits seemed to push straight out, holding up the negligee like a shelf. What business did she have there?

At first, she seemed to have decided not to "hear" the wolf whistle, but then she walked over, very slowly, to where her brother was lying grinning up at her. Looking down at him, she snapped at us: "Come over here." We did it, of course; this was excitement.

And Janey said, "Get off his pants, I want to see what he's got. Let's see Timmy's stuff."

Timmy panicked a little bit, grabbing the tops of his pajama pants, and flipping on his side. But he was giggling, too; I figured this wasn't the first time Sis had seen him.

So four of us grabbed him, whipped his pants off, and held his rather skinny legs apart. There it all was. The poor little bastard protested; but by then he was so excited. Wow. His dick was so stiff that his foreskin was pulled way back and his dark red berry was swollen and glistening. Seemed like just a good time, for him. 

Then, Janey ordered: "Hold him open just like that," and disappeared from the room. More excitement coming, I figured. When she reappeared, she walked straight over, stopped and stood staring down at her brother's impressive cock and balls. There was a huge blue elastic band in her hand. I figured she would snap it around his package, making it swell up even more. I had done that to myself.

But very suddenly, with a smile on her face, she bent over, placed one end of the elastic against Timmy's pulled-tight balls, and drew the elastic band back to its full length. She never took her eyes off the target; her lipped were parted in excitement. Timmy was trying to jerk his hips away, in terror, yelling, "No, Sis, no.

I cried out, "Wait," but none of us acted fast enough. We were staring in fascination, not believing this was going down. The giant elastic band was back 18 inches and Janey, looking right into her brother's eyes, let go...

I'm not going to tell you in detail what Timmy did. I mean, it's private how a guy takes that sort of thing. But I haven't forgot how, for hours, as we lay in our beds in the dark, we heard him moaning and weeping, groaning again and again, "Oh, my nuts, my nuts, my nuts..." What could anyone do for him? It kept me awake, I think, for three hours.

Janey watched just a few seconds after she zapped him, while Timmy was screaming and writhing all over the bed, his face bright red, his hands thrust down between his legs to nurse himself. A man will do anything, when it first happens; he doesn't care who is watching. He was screaming in a high pitched voice. I know he felt he just couldn't stand the pain—but what could he do?

Janey flounced from of the room. In the morning, her brother got out of bed and limped from the room, not looking at us or saying a word. It took months before he even spoke to any of us, again.

Timmy was with us today, standing beside me, taking in the view of his sister. He had no expression on his face as she thrashed in her bonds, heaving her hips, desperately bring together her legs. He was staring at that most tender part of her anatomy, the sweet, slick, light pink head the pokes assertively from the swollen tube of her clit. I have no clue to what he is thinking.

Right now, you are thinking: They are all headed for jail for kidnap-at the very least. Nah, no way. Janey had come home from Vasser very full of herself; she seemed to have acquired a taste for coke. She got her coke. One of our buddies from high school is a local cop. What he told her, when her caught her with maybe six-hundred bucks worth of coke. After, um, negotiation she came here to meet with someone who would "fix" her problem. She protested, of course, but she came.

It's probably the last place in the world Janey would choose to go. Down by the river, where "no one goes," is a shack that is the home of "Miss Debra," a black lady who keeps the men of our town faithful to their wives. Because the occasional trip down along the muddy path through the reeds to Miss Debra's is not viewed as cheating, in our town. Deb guards the virtue of our men.

Janey arrived, striding rather angrily along the muddy path, through the puddles and high reeds, and all the stinking shells and stuff, and banked on Deb's door. Pretty gutsy of Jane, not that she had any choice. How many years in the federal penitentiary on a drug conviction?

Debbie stepped from the door, held out her hand to Janey, with a big smile, and said, "Hi, honey."

"Okay, what's this about?" Janey demanded.

"Before you come in you take off all your clothes, all of them."

"Fuck that."

"Or I take them off, for you," said Deb.

And then the fight began, what you might have called a "cat fight," once. Or a "sweater fight." Janey went at it furiously, Deb went at it as she had so many times. Somehow, in a minute or two, Janey had lost her sweater and her bra, and was wailing and pleading because Deb had her in a hold that left her helpless. Then, Deb let her up, again, and Janey went back to fighting, but it was much more interesting, because she was in her bra, her big boobs jouncing up and down, and she would try to support them with her arm—but you can't fight that way.

Then, Deb had her down, again, holding her, and tore off her skirt, leaving just her black thong, so Janey was in the rough, dry grass, in just her underwear, rolling around, trying to cover herself with her hands. Deb reached down and dragged her up, then shoved her right at the door of the shack. We were inside, watching through the window, and pulled open the door, so Janey stumbled in. 

You've got to give Janey credit. She stumbled through the doorway and stood, in just her bra and thong, looking around; she saw her old prom date—me—and her brother—and a half dozen other guys from our high school class. For just a moment or two, there was a wild terror on her face, shock. But in incredibly short order, the she managed to straighten her shoulders, give her dark auburn curls a shake, and look straight at us. It was as though she was ready for all this.

Janey had a tough time giving up her bra and thong, yelling, "What's going on?" and "Why are you doing this?" Interesting, though, she didn't yell: "You're going to jail for this" or anything like that. She knew the score; that was Janey.

Now, it was Deb who smiled broadly, looking at Janey's wrenched-wide cunt, and said, with a smile, "Just look at this clit, guys..."

"No...No...please..." moaned Janey. She knew what Deb meant. Deb had beautiful long fingers, with remarkable nails. She reached out and her fingers began twiddling with Janey's pussy. "No, God, no," moaned Janey, but Deb's finger went right to the mount of the clit and began to tickle it, rub it, run its skin up and down, jerk back the cover of the sensitive, protuberant pink head of the clit.

Framed between Janey's stretched pussy lips, the swollen little canoli, almost two inches long, with the slick pink head protruding, looked unbearable sensitive. I guess that it was. Deb's fingers found it and traced it, massaged it, rubbed its length, rolled the skin back from the pink nubbin, jerking it...

Jane's moans were inhuman. I jumped when I heard her cry. Her big hips and dark curly auburn mound jerked up violently, her hips twisting, her belly rolling around in restless, seeking to escape the unbearably arousal. With a slight smile on her lips, as though all this were old hat, Deb, with a slight smile on her lips, kept tormenting the huge clit.

Then, at some point, she abruptly stopped, took her fingers away, and Janey cried out, "Nooooo-oooo, please do it...finish me... don't stop. I marveled at the way the big body, tightly tied, could thrash. 

Deb, now nude herself—as almost always, when guys were around—with ebony tits that jutted to almost black nipples, with a long, sleek belly, and with a fully wire-haired pussy—turned to us, with a smile, and said, "Any of your studs want to do her? She's ready, now..."

And so, it seemed, was Janey. From her pussy a slick olive oil—or whatever it was—ran freely, slicking all the swollen pink flesh. I couldn't figure where all this was coming from, but I knew that this girl was creaming herself...

I did what I had wanted to do for a long time. I took a few steps, bent over to kiss her full lips—cutting off her cries and pleas—and gave her a long, long kiss. At the same time, my hand made free with her breasts, as I had dreamed for years, crushing the soft flesh, rolling it on her chest, pinching the nipples, pushing them against her chest—playing with them madly, as I had dreamed so many times. Janey Morrisey's boobs, all mine. When I stopped my long, furious kiss, she gasped for air with a kind of panic, her chest rising and falling, and I realized that my kiss had almost smothered her.

And then my lips went to her nipples, another dream I had a thousand times, lying on my bed... I sucked and kissed like a madman. One and then another. I nipped the nipples, stretched them, and flicked them with my tongue... The whole time, Janey was moaning, "Noooowww..." but pushing up her chest, her great soft mounds, to meet my mouth.

I heard Deb say, very softly, calmly, "What about you, Timmy? I've heard about you and your Sis. What do you want to do?"

The Day We Did Janey Ch. 02



Janey raised her head, straining up, and stared at her brother through the valley between her boobs and over the riot of auburn hair atop her mound. What a pretty face. Those dark bangs over her wide green eyes, the cute uplifted nose, the generous mouth. But still...I was amazed she had heard Debbie ask Timmy what he wanted to do to her.

Because she was moaning like a lost soul as Debbie's slim fingers tickled her out-sized swollen clit—never letting her climax.

But yeah, she had heard. "Timmy," she commanded, her voice strong, but strained by her neck's position, "don't you touch me. I'm your sister. Did you forget that?"

"Oh? So what about the 18-inch elastic band you drew back and zapped into my nuts?" asked Timmy tonelessly. His head hung, not meeting her gaze.

"Just don't touch me," said Janey with finality.

Then Timmy looked up, right back at her, and reached out as though to a keyboard and touched Janey's swollen clit. Still holding her gaze, he moved his fingertips over the long pink tube. He ended by running just the tip of one finger over the pink meat of her thrusting little "penis." With a sigh of surrender, Janey let her head fall back to the table.

As Timmy tickled the pink protrusion, it seemed—impossibly-to push out even farther and to drive Janey mad. "Naaaoooh," she pleaded. Her fat pubic mound thrust up violently, meeting his touch. Don't touch your sister my ass.

I don't mean to interrupt, but right here I had a sudden revelation. Janey didn't play the prim, stingy virgin to tease the guys. No, she just didn't dare to turn the key because she knew, once her engine started, she would be helpless—giving it all up, every time, to any guy, because she'd be totally out of control. I mean, even trapped in a shack by five guys and a black whore, and tied down, her lust ruled her. I guess I felt sorry, right then-but what about zapping Timmy's balls? Where did that come from? 

Timmy was on his knees, now, his face right between Janey's pale thighs, and suddenly Janey shrieked so loudly that we all jumped: "What are you doing? NO, Timmy."

And then I saw Timmy's tongue and lips, soft and very wet, gliding back and forth over the pink meat of the little penis that thrust from her swollen clit. I saw his tongue go after it, flick it, make agonizingly slow love to it.

"No, Jesus no, Timmy, not there. Please, God, not there. No." And so she went babbling on. But he had no mercy, and soon her thighs, and her legs with the sprinkling of freckles, were jerking spasmodically, wantonly thrusting up her cunt to Timmy's mouth. 

It was obvious to me, now. Janey wasn't a bitch. She was a volcano of lust—and she knew it. If kissing, or teasing her boobs, ever had began, she would have-well, fucked her brains out, helplessly. And so she rejected every advance, as though imperious, removed from it all. But in truth she was terrified she would be fucking, helplessly, with all comers, with all the consequences of that...

Suddenly, Timmy yelled, "Hey," and jerked back his face. It was soaking wet, dripping. And a golden stream was shooting out from Janey's pussy, a stream that seemed to target Timmy as he tried to scrambled back, still on his knees. "She's pissing on me," he yelled, his tone one of shock.

I wondered if Janey meant to do it. The powerful stream arced out almost straight. We were all laughing, Debbie to split a gut. Timmy was not laughing, though; he was standing staring at his sister's cunt as though it was a gun.

When I stopped laughing, tears on my cheeks, I heard Timmy asking Debbie, his eyes trying to avoid the lofty shelf of her tits with their egregious black nipples, "How can I hurt her, like she hurt my nuts?"

"Yo caint," said Debbie flatly. "Nothing you can do to a woman is agonizin' like what she done to your balls. There ain't no pain like it. And all the time you wondering if you goin' to be unmanned."

Timmy nodded slowly. "Still," he said, "what can I do?"

"Hold it," said Debbie, and she stepped quickly into what seemed to be her bedroom, calling, "You kin try this..."

When she came out, I said, "Oh shit, that's a stun gun."

"That's correct," said Debbie. "A guy came down here once, wantin' to use it on me, and fool that I am I let him tie me up. I didn't know what the fuckin' thing was, back then."

She shook her head, looking down at the stun gun. "First, he zapped my tits and I screamed my head off—an' I don' generally do that. I was beggin' him, babblin' like a baby, sayin' anything..." She paused. "Well, that's enough. I can't tell you what happened. I passed out maybe six times. That's what I was prayed to do, along with prayin' to die."

She looked at us and added, after a moment. "He shoved it right into my fur, my slit." And after a moment, she said: "Anyway, that gentlemen isn't with us, anymore. And I kept this for self-protection."

Timmy held out his hand. "Give it to me. This is the trigger? And this is what I touch on her?"

"Nope," said Debbie. "I'm goin' to let you use it when you see for yourself how it feels." She looked up at the rest of us. Of the four of us, I was the only one who had even touched Janey, so far. The rest were spectators.

Debbie said, "Take hold of him and turn him around."

Timmy didn't resist, at first. We had his arms held tight and his backside turned to Debbie. She knelt down behind him and reached around his waist, opening his belt.

"No," gasped Timmy trying to jerk away.

Debbie laughed. "What? You don't even want us to see your dick?" But by then, she had hauled his pants and underwear down to the floor and stepped his feet out of them. I glanced down. Timmy's prick was like a Billy Club, only so red it was getting purple. The foreskin had withdrawn far back, so his meat glistened wetly, standing at attention like a soldier.

"No," he whined, "No, Debbie..." and he was straining to look over his shoulder. Debbie, still one her knees, was rubbing her titties back and forth across his legs; her hand came around him and took hold of his cock and pumped it a little. She was tickling his butt with her tongue.

"Oh, God," he murmured.

She said, "Okay, here it comes," and, before he could protest, I saw her touch the stun gun's wand to his butt.

I am at a loss for words, here. Timmy's cry was inhuman, at least nothing I ever heard. There's some kind of myth, I thought, about people in emergencies doing things beyond their ordinary strength. Well, sure enough, it took four of us, straining, to hold Timmy.

Then, Debbie stuck the wand into the crack of his butt-not all the way, obviously, just a quick in and out. After that, we were holding a limp sack of quivering flesh that only could whimper and plead.

"Okay, turn him 'round this way," commanded Debbie. We did, so that Timmy was facing her, still held tight from behind, his dick now totally flaccid, dangling like a seriously overcooked noodle.

Debbie moved the wand toward him, toward the head of his cock. She asked, "Should I do it, here?"

Timmy rammed his body back into us, shoving all four of us back in his spasm of terror, pulling away from the thing, and his scream was high pitched, a Banshee cry...

"No?" asked Debbie calmly. "Then don't go sticking this on your sister's pussy, you hear me?"

Timmy's cry was incoherent, so I can't report what he said.

Let me skip, here, until Timmy recovered. He sure had back his hard-on. Debbie held up the stun gun and Timmy screamed, but all she asked was "Do you want to use this on your sister?"

From the table came a long, drawn out, "Nooooo... please? Noooo?"

"Yes, I do," said Timmy, but it was almost a whisper. "I want to do her. But not between her legs or anything."

And then, Janey amazed me. She was less afraid of the stun gun than of being titillated on her most sensitive parts. Debbie handed Timmy the gun and he stepped to the table, looking down at Janey.

She only said, "Now I get this thing on my titties? Is that it?"

She added, "I thought you loved my boobs?"

In reply, Timmy reached out with the silver metal of the wand and brushed it across one of Janey's big nipples.

Janey's body went rigid, her teeth bit into her lower lip, and her eyes, incredibly wide, looked wild. But...she made not a sound.

"Stop," snapped Debbie and grabbed the wand, pulling it away. "You just touch her with it."

Timmy nodded and Debbie released the stun gun to him. He stood for a moment, gazing at Janey's body, laid out like some lush present, the curves and mounds and lines with that perfection that we experience only in looking at the body of the opposite sex.

Then, he leaned slightly forward, reaching out, and touched the wand to her navel. Janey's hips jerked, heaving, and the big, fleshy boobs seemed to shake on their own, like Jell-O. She gave a long, low cry.

"Okay, give over," Debbie demanded. "That's enough." Timmy quickly complied. She turned to us, "Anyone here curious what it would be like on the tip of yo' dick—just real quick?"

There were no takers.

"Okay," said Debbie. "You all standin' there with baseball bats up touching your belly buttons. She's all yours..." and she waved an invitation at Jamey offered naked body.

The four of us looked at each other.

Ernie spoke first, looking down. "I just want to stick it in her and fuck her. That's all. I'm totally on fire, right now." I could see from his cock that he was indeed. The thing was arched back in a curve and slightly quivering. You don't get harder than that.

He went and stood between Janey's invitingly wrenched-apart thighs. He took his cock in his hand and had to push it down to get it at the level of her cunt. Then, he looked up into her face.

"I'm a virgin, you know," said Janey matter-of-factly. "I don't suppose that matters? This is how I'm going to lose it?"



The Day We Did Janey Ch. 03



If you haven't already guessed it, the guys in my town are plain people. I don't mean stupid. But here's Debbie, living in a shack down by the river with a tarpaper roof, and the town knows what she does. In fact, we call her "the quean of Frog Hollow," and has been since before I was born. Did you know that "quean" is an old word for a whore?

I know my dad has gone to her. Not just once, either. And he's got my mom; but some guy isn't getting enough, or what he wants, and he takes off like a mongrel dog into the high reeds and down the path, stinking of mud, heading for the river. He stands peeking through the reeds at the shack till he can see if anyone's there ahead of him. Believe me, Deb doesn't do appointments. Sure, she'll leave a light on over her door, just a bare bulb, if she's alone. Except when she forgets. Which is why everyone is peepin' out of the reeds.

So guys will be saying "fuck this and fuck that," but then blush when the cute girl in drug store smiles at them.

So now, Ernie says, gazing down: "I can't take her cherry."

Where did he get that? I mean, we didn't invite Janey to afternoon tea. But he takes his boner and walks away, across the room. Likely Ernie never had real sex, except talking about it, and he's scared what he heard about busting a cheery.

Debbie was looking at us. With one finger, she was absent mindedly torturing Janey's clit, barely looking, taking lube from the pussy and rubbing round and round the clit, which, I swear, was looking as sensitive as three inches down inside my prick...

And I'm wondering how much Janey can take. As I said, this is a wild girl, wired with explosives, and now her hips are jerking like mad, her nipples have crinkled into little towers, and her head is whipping back and forth on the table. Most of all, her chest is heaving, her big tits jacking up and down, and she's crying. I mean, truthfully, rough and tough Janey is weeping with the torture of not coming.

There's a half cup of corn oil running down her pussy. I never saw such inflamed flesh as between that girl's thighs.

My prick was straight as a bat, actually arched back toward my belly, well above my navel. It was rock-hard and drops of fluid were overflowing it. I stepped up to Janey's pussy and, as I did, she raised her head, looked at me, and, I thought she might have smiled...

I wondered, as I approached, how to get my stiffo lowered down to her cunt. 

Suddenly, Deb said, "Hold it, cowboy. You want to make a baby?" And as she spoke, a condom appeared in her hands. She raised it a bit, as though to eye level, and smiled at me. I nodded dumbly. 

In about two seconds, her long fingers had the sheath down over my rampant prick. She gave my hard-on a slap, as one will swat a horse to make it get moving.

"No, no..." Janey moaned slowly, rocking her head, but I paid no attention. I approached the table, standing between her thighs, her offered her cunt, and I stared in at her egregious tube of a clit. Then, with a thud, I was on my knees, my lips pressed to that tormented shiny pink clit; I wet it with my mouth and my tongue raced back and forth across it...

Janey was cracking up. Her cry was like from a cat that fell in the fire. "Naaooo..." she shrieked. "No more teasing, please. Fuck me...fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..."

I look around smiling. But Debbie had a mad face on her. She said, "You been jerkin' that girl around way too long. You get it in there, now, buddy."

With Deb's hand at the small of my back, her hand gripping my balls—hard—and shoving me, I stepped forward, putting my dick against Janey's pussy. Deb's hand was on it, pushing it down and aiming it, so that when my hips thrust, my arched prick slipped into Janey's amazingly slick pussy. Slipped in so easily, glided into the gaping mouth, and then slid the whole way, until my curly, light brown hair was pressed against her auburn bush, and she was hissing, "Yes, yes, yes..."

All I thought, at that moment, is that I would come in about two seconds. Or less. My dick felt like the prelude to an explosion. The sensation of ecstasy seemed to rise and rise; surely I could not resist for another second.

Her moan sounded distant; she was weeping, begging: "Ram me...please, please, please..., ram my cunt...hard...do it so hard... hurry..."

And I did, but only a dozen times, my hips colliding with her mound, as though driving a stake into hard earth, thudding against her, again and again, so her sturdy body jolted back on the table, tied or not, and her big breasts shook like pudding...

And suddenly, there are four guys on Janey. One has grabbed her hair and is pressing his lips to hers, devouring her lips till I see her struggling to even breathe. Two guys are on her nipples, one squeezing each boob with his hands, his mouth locked on her big nipples. And one guy is pressing his face into her soft belly.

"Now," she screamed, and sure enough, it was. I came in Jamey's beautiful pussy, crying out, slamming my hips as though penetrating granite... How did her cunt stand it? But it did. She was erupting on the table, her boobs jouncing, her thighs straining against their bonds.

It seemed a long time later when I heard Debbie say, in a voice with gentleness that shocked me: "Janey, you want to go home now?"

I lifted my head. I realized I had been in a half dream. I was still naked, lying on the hard dry boards of the floor. 

I heard Janey say, with perfect calm, "Just untie me, I'm stiff."

I think I heard myself say, "Oh, wait..."

But then Janey was standing, naked and relaxed, stretching like some cat, her back arched so her big breasts thrust, her arms reaching far above her head. Her cute face with the auburn bangs, the green eyes, the full lips looked relaxed, quite astonishingly relaxed.

"You want to leave?" Deb asked again.

"No," said Janey, "I don't really want to go."

"Then what?"

A long silence—well, maybe not so long. And I heard Janey say, her tone suddenly intense, "I want to see them do you."

"Do me?"

"Fuck the shit out of you, and everything else. Ream out everything you got."

After a moment: "Sure, Hon, if they want to do a nigger girl."



The Day We Did Janey Ch. 04



I am ending this story, here, sooner than I had planned, because there doesn't seem to be great enthusiasm for it. Writers have to take chances, though.

*****

I have to confess, when Debbie said that I felt like dog shit. I looked at her, or anyway glanced at her, and I was thinking she had been the only grown-up here all day. Anyway, why was she down here in a shack beside the river and making her living as a whore? I didn't know anything about Debbie, where she came from, but I do know that my dad and how many guys, like the principal of our high school, came down that stinking path through the high reeds...

I hadn't even noticed, but while we had been doing Janey, Debbie had slipped back into her black brassiere and panties. She had the leanest body, all muscle in the arms and belly and legs. She stood erect, her head lifted, and she was pretty with big brown eyes and full lips and curly hair flung back from her head and over her shoulders.

Now, the other guys had come over. "Hey," said Ernie, as though he had been out having a smoke, which maybe he had been, "who untied her?"

Timmy said, "Why did you let her up, Debbie? I'm not finished."

Debbie slowly walked over to Timmy, and I watched the movement of the tight high butt in her dark panties and her graceful back. She reached out and took Timmy's dick, which looked so hard it hurt to see it, and looked into his eyes and started playing with it very gently and slowly. Timmy seemed to push his belly at her offering the dick.

"What do you want?" she asked in her low voice. "You okay with a piece of me?"

I couldn't believe it. Timmy's reply was a great line in the history of comedy: "You mean sex?"

"No, I mean hair stylin'," drawled Debbie. "How you want your dick hair done? You need a permanent?"

"I'm okay with a piece of you," piped up Ernie. "I sure as hell am, Debbie."

She walked over, holding his gaze as she came. She looked down at him and Ernie blushed. "You're a big boy, Ernie. I like that."

She seemed to fold up, gracefully, coming to a rest with her ass on her heels Her long fingers took Ernie's dick. Her face came forward and delicately her lips closed over it. Those beautiful brown eyes were looking up, never wavering from Ernie's.

"Oh, yeah," he moaned. "Oh, yes, please."

I was watching, thinking that a few minutes ago I felt my balls turn inside-out, blowing out through my dick, and thought I might never come again. Now I was getting stiff.

And then, from right behind me, Janey said, "Get her bra off. I want to see. Just yank it right down over her tits."

Me, I guess that meant. I knelt behind Debbie; she didn't seem to notice. I unhooked her black bra and slipped it over her shoulders. She let me, and it slid off smooth as can be.

Debbie had no pendulous, swinging boobs. Hers were perfect cones, straight out from her chest. At the ends, the nipples continued the cone shape, right to a point. Except that her breasts were a cocoa brown and her nipples almost black and very long.

Ernie was grunting, now, his hips heaving, trying to drive his big dick down Debbie's throat.

"Flick her titties, hard." Again, Janey's voice. I hesitated just a moment, then knelt behind Debbie, reached around her with both hands, and began to strum my straight, spread fingers up and down on each side to flick her stiff nipples. After I moment, she said, "Aw, shit, mine are so hot... You almost could make me come that way..."

"No more on Ernie," snapped Janey. "Let him wait." And after a second, another angry: "Stop, Janey. Let him wait."

Janey, still on her knees, looked around, her lips slicked and glistening so my prick jumped and began to ache.

"Do him, now," said Janey, pointing at me.

I stepped up. Janey turned on her knees, her eyes met mine, and she smiled so beautifully, I was sure I loved her. She reached up, took me, and fed me into her mouth. As I looked down, I was astounded at what I had done in just a few moments to her nipples.

Janey ordered: "Get her panties off, too, Timmy. Pull them off. I want to see the hair on her belly and her cunt lips." Where in HELL had Janey got this dirty mouth, I wondered?

Timmy walked toward Debbie slowly, at first, glancing around. Then, Janey snapped, "Get them off," and Timmy knelt down quickly, his hands on either side of Debbie's hips, fingers hooked over her panties.

"Okay, okay," said Debbie, "you'll never get'em off this way." She stood up quickly, shoved down her panties, stepped out of them, and used her foot to toss them toward Janey. She turned for a moment, facing Janey, and flipped her hips so she pushed out her flat, dark lower belly. A riot of tightly curly black hair deeply covered her pussy, ran in a thick band up her belly, half-way to her to her navel, and spread out an inch or two on her slim inner thighs. It seemed, somehow, primitive, animal, that riotous growth. But I glanced up into Debbie's face, and she was smiling at Janey, unashamed, enjoying her effect, and I began to love her even more.

Then, she was back on her knees, my dick in her mouth, her gaze locked on mine, and that same easy smile on her lips. I glanced up at Janey-so different, with her pale, swollen breasts, her spreading nipples now crinkled to points, and her carefully trimmed auburn patch. 

Suddenly, Janey was on her knees behind Debbie. Debbie knew it, but never moved or gave a sign. Janey's hands came around Debbie and clasped over her breasts and nipples, clasped in a desperate, convulsive grip, and I saw that Janey's lips were pressed against Debbie's back, kissing her,

Well, all I knew, at the moment, was that the soft tip of Debbie's tongue was tickling the underside of dick. It flicked right under the head, chasing that button of flesh, twitching it, wetting it till my hips were churning and I was panting like a runner. I reached down and buried my hands in Debbie's mane of dark hair, pressing her face to me, so my dick disappeared into her mouth. I saw her accept it, her eyes closed, her cheeks soft and hollowed, accommodating my whole rod.

"Timmy, stop," I heard Janey say, but Timmy, naked now, had come to kneel behind his big sister. His hands were frantic and far from gentle on her firm white boobs, crushing on her chest, dragging out her nipples. 

Janey protested, "No, Timmy...my boobs..."

I yanked Debbie's hair, dragging her mouth off my prick, and my hand went down and grabbed my prick, my whole fist brutally jerking myself, so that I came and abrupt spurts of cum coated her lips, dripped from her eyelids, and began to fall onto the shelf of her waiting tits. Her face stayed lifted to me so I could see what I had done and see was smiling.

It was big Ernie's voice, sudden and commanding, almost frantic, that was demanding, Get her down on her back, get her down."

He practically threw Janey out of the way, and Janey gave a yell of protest. But when Ernie roughly seized Debbie's shoulders, she just rolled onto her back, easy as can be, not resisting, and pulled her knees back, her legs coming wide apart so we saw the dense, thick hair, almost impenetrable around her pussy. But I saw, most of all, her broad face, with the strong jaw, the beautiful chin raised as her head fell back.

Her eyes had not closed. She watched us, smiling, so inviting; and she had her thighs so spread that I could see, peeping from her thick bush, the dark crinkled lips of her pussy. Come and get'em.

I had thought Ernie would be onto her. But, in a movement almost too quick to see, Janey had grabbed Ernie's nuts in her fist, in fact, his whole dangling package, and on her face was a fierce determination. On Ernie's face, of course, was shock and a spasm of pain as his body bent over to protect himself.

Janey hissed, "You wait, then you do it, all right?"

"Yes, yes," gasped Ernie.

Janey released her hold and knelt, letting herself fall forward between Debbie's parted thighs. I saw only Janey's auburn hair in Debbie's crotch and knew Janey's lips were fastened on Debbie's cunt even before Debbie gasped, "Oh, wait, baby. No, no, baby, I'm too sensitive. No, stop, now..."

Janey lifted her face for one second and growled at us like a Marine sergeant, "Hold her fucking thighs apart. Pin her shoulders. Do it. Hurry."

And yeah, like automatons we all moved.

Debbie just let it happen, but she sighed "Aw, no, I can't take this," then lay with her eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, as though waiting for her fate.

Janey was back at work. In a few moments, Debbie's voice rose in panic, protesting, "No, my clitty. I can't stand it, I can't. My clit." And her loins were going wild, so we barely could hold her. She was striving desperately to fling off Janey's lips, but Janey stayed there like a pit bull.

Ernie and I had all we could do keeping hold of her thighs against her frantic attempts to close them. And Timmy was at her head, holding down her shoulders.

At last, after what seemed endless incoherent protests and shrill cries, I heard a deep, slow breathing; she was moaning softly, too. And her hips began to move rhythmically, pushing her hairy belly higher each time. She murmured, "Yes, hon, that's it. Suck my twat white bitch, eat me out."

Ernie, Timmy, and I let her go, now. She wasn't going anywhere still she came.

On a sudden inspiration, I walked into what I thought was Debbie's bedroom. I thought I might find a whip. Less than a minute later, I emerged and Timmy and Ernie stared thunderstruck. I smiled. I had slipped around my waist and fastened a huge hollow dick that actually went over my own. It was on tight, so it bobbed nicely as I walked toward where Janey now had climbed up onto Debbie and was sucking her tits.

Debbie glanced up, saw me, and barely held back a big grin spreading over face, but she quickly winked. Frankly, Janey didn't seem to be paying much attention to us guys. That girl had the ripest, biggest, most gloriously shaped ass I had seen in my short life.

I said, casually, and was sure Janey wasn't listening, "Hold her Debbie, hold her right where she is." Debbie's arms came up and went around Janey's back in a gentle hug and Janey sucked harder.

"And you guys hold her legs apart," I said softly. 

When Timmy and Ernie gripped Janey's ankles, her head lifted, she turned to us scowling, and said: "What are you doing?"

At that moment, Debbie's strong arms locked tight around Janey's back. Then Janey saw the foot-long, jumbo dildo that sprouted from my belly.

"Oh, no," she snapped. "NO. I'll KILL YOU. Get the fuck away."

I knelt, reached out to spread Janey's delicious ass cheeks, and spit several times right on her very pink, very tight little asshole.

Then, as she yelled a variety of things, and struggled uselessly against Debbie's bear hug, I leaned forward, put the bulging head of my monster on the wrinkly little target, and began to push, letting the weight of my body fall against the cock to shove it in. In just a second or two, I was so far in that my own thighs and belly touched the beautiful soft skin of Janey's perfect ass and I never, ever wanted to move.

Then, I jumped, I swear, six inches off the ground. Janey¬¬¬¬ shrieked as her ass was penetrated by the giant thing that slid deeper and deeper. After wildly incoherent noise, the first actual words I heard were pleasant, albeit said through gasps, "Oh, no, guys, please. Timmy? Ernie? That's my ASS. Please? My ass?" And on she went on like that.

I began to stroke-long, deep thrusts. Janey's big butt clenched in desperation and she strained against Debbie's arms to rise. At the same time, her little feet, held at the ankles, began kicking in a little drumming dance of protest in the air.

But then, suddenly, she let her head fall to Debbie's bosom, let her ass go slack and yielding, and began to do some Lamaze breathing, a controlled pant that only occasionally became a soft squeal as I reamed her. Then, I saw that her face was over Debbie's in the hottest French kissing I for one had ever seen—or dreamed. The kiss went on and on, and Janey seemed to have forgotten her asshole entirely.

Well, I wasn't going to come this way, and Janey no longer was entertaining us, though every guy in the room dreamed of someday kissing Jane Morrissey that way. So, as gently as I could, I pushed up my body, withdrawing the awful impalement. More or less through lips fastened to Debbie's lips, Janey gave a grunt as her asshole was evacuated. I was astounded to see that her ass still gaped in a black circle a good inch across.

"Hold her," said Ernie quickly. Debbie may or may not have heard him. Her arms still encircled Janey, but loosely.

Ernie knelt, now, and flopped forward onto the magnificent cushion of ass, directing his stiff prick into the gaping asshole. For a moment, Janey turned her head, said, "Oh, Ernie," smiled, and went back to her business. After Ernie came Timmy; Janey must of known, but didn't even look as Timmy desperately rode her big ass and came in her hole.

Neither of the two took long, excited beyond belief even after coming earlier. Now, Timmy and Ernie, their dicks dangling, were standing watching the two women. Janey turned and looked at me. "You taking a piece of my ass?"

I slowly shook my head. "Love to. Can't. Can't get it up again."

Janey rolled off Debbie, ever-so-gently, got to her knees, and rose. She came over to me holding out her hand. "Give me the dildo."

I unstrapped it and handed it over, and Janey started strapping it on.

She nodded toward Debbie. "Turn her over, now, and you straddle her back to hold her down. If she tries to rise, reach around and twist those black licorice sticks off her titties. She turned to Ernie and Timmy. "Hold her legs nice and wide apart, okay?"

Debbie opened her eyes as if from a dream. She lifted her head and asked, "What's going on, here?" After a second, she said, "Oh."

Janey had finished strapping on. Against the pale perfect skin of her belly and reaching almost to the bottom of her big smooth boobs, the venous black plastic dildo looked immense. 

By then, the three of us were rolling Debbie over. She had the biggest, firmest butt I ever saw.

Janey was kneeling, now, with the soulless length of plastic jutting and ready. She frowned thoughtfully, and asked, "Can you really fuck someone unconscious?"

"Sure you can," said Debbie conversationally, her pretty face sideways on the floor. "But a passed-out whore ain't much fun."

The end