Fred N. Richard

Bawdy-House Mother

Chapter 1

It was ten-thirty on a beautiful April morning when Conchi Thorne, the woman in Apartment 6-B, looked at her nude self in the bathroom mirror. She was preparing herself for Keith Broys who would come to her at eleven.

Her breasts showed fair and firm in the long mirror; coral tipped and slightly aquiver in their nudity. The taper of her waist flared gently into the span of her hips where the thick patch of brown curly hair made an almost perfect triangle on her belly. Her thighs, so exquisitely turned, gave way to dimpled knees and curving calf's, to slender ankles and well-molded feet.

Conchi was a pretty picture indeed. Light brown hair fell to her shoulders where its softness curled inward to frame dark brown eyes and sensual lips-lips that were pleasingly red without the aid of lipstick.

A birthmark, shaped like a small aspen leaf, marked the creamy skin on her left hip. And if that could be called a flaw it was the only one on Conchi's body.

Conchi leaned closer to the mirror as she examined the flesh on her cheeks. She could see that Keith's "medicine" was helping to keep them pink and fresh. Today she would have another of her special kind. She would never grow old as long as she could get the kind of tonic that Keith gave her.

No one seeing her now, so nude, so vibrant, so shameless, would ever guess that she was in fact fifty-an age when the mildew of frustration, worry, and regret keeps most women far away from sex.

But not Conchi! She would not be turned aside from her own special kind of "sex." Not even because she had never fully realized the real thing. Conchi was a virgin intactus! An erotic mystery to the few who knew about her chastity.

When the self-inspection of her goodies was completed Conchi slipped into a filmy black net bra-and-pantie set. She topped the set with a black flowing gown that concealed nothing beneath it, for on these special mornings she wanted it that way.

In the living room of her superb apartment she pulled the drapes so the world outside could not be seen. After switching on the two lamps by the divan she pushed a tape into the stereo and the throaty chansons of a French singer breathed sound into the room.

Conchi hummed to herself as she unlocked the cabinet where she kept her special photos. There were twelve prints in all; each one a black-and-white enlargement of herself. They had been taken ten years before by a photographer who would remember the assignment until the day he died. She carried the photos to the glass-topped table in front of the divan and placed them there.

The door chime announced her caller and Conchi hurried to the door.

"Keith," she cried happily. "Do come in."

Conchi kissed her nephew on the cheek before leading him to the bar where she poured a Coke for him. "You are on time and I am ready."

"That's nice," he said as he took the drink.

"Are you ready, dear?" Conchi asked.

Keith Broys sipped at his drink and looked at his aunt. "It's going to be different this morning, auntie. I'm going to fuck you. Fuck you like a madman."

"Oh no you are not!" Conchi said. "I'm your aunt-your aunt! Besides it would not be right."

Keith's eyes seemed to bore deeply into the valley between his aunt's firm breasts before he looked her in the eyes and said, "The hell it wouldn't. Some man should fuck you and I'm the one who's going to."

Conchi laughed. "No man shall ever do that to me."

"No?" Keith said. "Just looking at you gives me a hard on."

Conchi smiled now. "That is my baby, Keith."

"You'll get your baby where it should go- right into that cunt of yours."

"Remember our agreement, Keith? You promised not to talk about intercourse."

"Let's do it then." Keith carried his drink to the divan and sat down. "Damn it, auntie, the more I do this for you the more I want to fuck you."

Conchi took a small glass and a bottle of Spanish brandy from the back bar. She walked to the divan and said, "Get up, Keith. Go into the bedroom and strip."

Keith finished his drink and placed the glass on the table. "What's the hurry?" he asked.

"I have a graduate seminar at one-thirty."

"Screw the seminar," Keith said as he got up.

"Such language, Keith! Shame on you."

Without a word in reply Keith went to the bedroom.

Conchi placed the glass and brandy on the table and "sat down on the divan. Listening to the soft music she thought about her nephew.

Keith Broys was only eighteen years old. A small guy weighing a mere 130 pounds. Like his aunt he had brown hair which he kept trimmed well enough to please a barber. His brown eyes always looked directly at the person he spoke to. He was attractive, well-dressed, and popular. And as a freshman at the university he kept up his studies with the best students. But he had the biggest hang-up ever: Girls!

But Keith was too shy to ever bring himself to go beyond the stage of mere socializing with them. Yet he had an enormous desire to put his large cock into some girl's cunt.

Thus he concentrated on his aunt, trying to break her stout resistance so he could at last use his cock in a way other than by jerking it off.

Conchi poured herself a little of the excellent brandy and sat back holding the glass cupped in her hand. "Keith?" she called.

"Okay, auntie," Keith said. "Be with you in a minute."

Conchi sipped the brandy and puzzled the fact that her nephew's naked body had never aroused her sexually. It was strange, because no man's body had ever made her sexually responsive. She was not a lesbian-nor a masturbator. Yet she was sensual to a high degree. But there it stopped.

"Keith?" she called, thinking that someday a man's cock might find its way into the soft folds of her cunt-but never Keith's.

"Do you want to suck it?" Keith said as he walked toward his aunt with a hard on that would have enraptured any normal woman.

"No I do not," Conchi said, laughing before she swallowed the rest of the brandy and placed the empty glass on the table.

"Let's fuck then," Keith said as he bent over his aunt and squeezed one of her firm breasts.

"No," Conchi said, slapping Keith's hand.

Keith kissed his aunt's cheek and said, "What I couldn't do!"

"Forget it, Keith; you will never get the chance."

"So?" Keith said.

"Keith, just do what you have to and give me what I pay for."

"Okay, auntie." Keith began to stroke his erect member.

"Do you want to see the photos?"

Keith picked up the prints and began looking at them. His rod, already excited, rose to greater heights as his eyes began exploring the pictures of his nude aunt. He selected one and put the others on the table.

With his right hand Keith began a slow stimulation of his prick as his left hand held the photo before his eyes. It was a picture of his nude aunt bent over so her behind was in the foreground.

Keith lowered the photo so it was touching the head of his dandy cock. "I'd even fuck you in the ass, auntie," he said as his strokes increased.

"Nasty boy," Conchi said as she watched the big cock pressed against her behind in the picture.

"Fucking's never nasty," Keith said as he ceased to jerk on his prick and placed the photo on top of the others. "I like pictures, auntie, but the real thing's better."

Conchi nodded in agreement. She stood up to take off her robe, exposing her body in the filmy see-through bra and pantie. "Do you like it, Keith?" she asked as she sat down again.

Keith was breathing faster now. His words were almost grunts of passion. "Show me! Show me! Goddam it-show me!"

Conchi slowly unfastened the bra and let her breasts hang out in all their firmness.

Keith's eyes glazed as he looked at the mounds of exciting flesh. Minutes later he cried, "More! Show me more!"

Conchi waited only a moment before she lay back on the divan, raised her hips, and pushed the black panties down to uncover the erotic triangle of curly brown hair on her belly.

"Cunt!" Keith said excitedly. "Show me the cunt!

"Cunto! Cunto! Cunto!" Keith said as Conchi spread her legs and raised her hips as high as she could. Keith moved as if to plunge his rod into the beautiful sight that now made him crazy with passion. But Conchi lowered her hips and sat up.

"Cunto! Cunto! Cunto!" Keith said sharply as he stroked his cock in time to the words. Keith groaned. "Now! Now!"

Conchi reached quickly for her empty glass and capped the head of Keith's prick with it. The prick began to throb and she watched eagerly as her nephew's cream spurted into the glass.

"Milk it, honey." Conchi watched as Keith's fingers stripped the last drop from his penis. "Good boy," she said, placing the glass-come container on the table so she could put on her robe.

Conchi took the bottle of brandy and filled the glass. The come floated on top like cream on an Angel's Tip. She swallowed the contents and said, "Thank you, Keith."

"Let me see you once more," Keith said.

Conchi pulled her robe open and stood naked in his sight. He looked at the triangle of hair almost goggle-eyed. And his hanging penis began to stir.

"You are all man, Keith," Conchi said as she watched her nephew's prick in its erotic swelling.

"Auntie," Keith said as his prick now projected on a line with her cunt, "why can't I fuck you?"

"The first and best reason is you are my nephew."

"Nephews have fucked aunts before."

"And the second is that I don't want to be."

"Well, I want to," Keith said.

"I know you do, Keith," Conchi said. "You have told me that ever since you agreed to give me your sperm on New Year's Eve."

"Now it's April," Keith said, "and for four months you've been drinking my come in a glass of brandy. Why don't you suck my cock and get it fresh?"

"I tried fresh come, as you call it, and it has a nasty taste. That is why I mix yours with brandy, Keith." Conchi poured a bit of brandy into her glass.

"So you sucked a cock before?"

Conchi sipped her brandy. "Once, Keith. Only once, long ago. I can do without it, thank you."

"I want to fuck you, auntie. I really do. So if you don't let me I'll just refuse to come in your glass."

"Keith," Conchi said, "I give you twenty-five dollars every week for only one shot of your sperm. So why don't you use the money to take out a girl?"

"I'd rather fuck you-you keep the twenty-five."

"Impossible!"

Keith put his hand on his aunt's arm. "Auntie, the dogs I know aren't worth it and the ones I like are too tall."

"There are some tall girls who like to go out with short men."

"I know," Keith said, taking his hand from his aunt's arm, "but it would be embarrassing to me."

"Well, don't go out then! Have an in-date with one of them. There must be a tall girl somewhere who will have intercourse with you for twenty-five dollars."

"Where?" Keith asked.

"Wait. Perhaps I know such a girl-a girl who will not only let you into her apartment but also into her silk panties."

Keith hugged his aunt. "Oh, could you, auntie?"

"Don't spill my drink, Keith. Besides you are too close to me." Conchi pushed her nephew away and pulled her robe together. "Don't get your hopes up, Keith. All I can do is try."

Keith kissed his aunt on both her healthy-looking cheeks. "If you do, auntie, I'll come for you for nothing!"

Conchi laughed. "I don't want your charity, Keith. All I want is your fine young semen."

Keith sighed. "You know, auntie, you make me horny. I could come again, if you'd let me screw you." Keith held onto his semi-stiff rod and stepped toward his aunt.

"Don't you dare, Keith!" Conchi sat down on the divan for a measure of safety.

"Damn it-it won't hurt you to let me fuck you!"

"Oh my God, Keith, why do you keep saying that?" Conchi drank the little brandy left in her glass and placed it on the table.

"Because I want to fuck a woman, that's why,"

"Please get it out of your head, Keith, because you never will do that to me."

"No?" Keith said.

"Go get dressed, Keith. I don't like your dirty talk when there is no sex involved."

Keith obeyed but when he returned he still had sex on his mind. He put his right hand on the back of the divan and cuddled his aunt's breast with his left.

Conchi pushed Keith's hand away. "I don't need to be felt, Keith, especially my breasts. It does nothing for me and may only serve to arouse you again."

Keith stood straight and grabbed the material of his slacks so the bulge in them could be seen. "Damn it, auntie, your body makes me hot all over!"

"That is a shame, Keith."

"Now don't get mad, auntie."

"I am not mad, Keith, but I do wish you would get some girl to feel."

Keith sat down beside his aunt. "I can't auntie. I'm really shy when it comes to making out with girls-so let me fuck you."

"Why don't you go home, Keith? Your mother will be worrying about you."

"Not my mother! She never worries about anything unless it's one of her pet hobbies like the Red Cross."

"Don't you say mean things about your mother."

"Mother's all right," Keith said. "Only she's frigid."

Conchi poured a little more brandy into her glass. "None of the Thornes was ever sexy, Keith."

"I don't mean frigid that way. She and Dad must fuck! I mean she's frigid like an icy personality."

"She loves you."

"Yeah. She gives me a peck on the cheek now and then, but no love and no affection."

"I thought you two were close," Conchi said, taking a sip of her brandy.

"We aren't, and if you drink more of that brandy you'll get drunk-so drunk, I hope, that I'll be able to fuck you."

"Why don't you go home?"

"Because I want to fuck you!"

"Go!" Conchi said.

"Okay, okay-but where's my twenty-five?"

Conchi finished her brandy and stood up. "If you would stop using those filthy words and have some clean thoughts I would remember to pay you for your sperm."

While his aunt went for the money Keith put on his light jacket. He picked up the photos from the table and shuffled through them. His cock tightened beneath his slacks. Aloud he said, "Cunt! Cunt! Cunt!"

He didn't hear his aunt come up behind him. "Don't praise me, Keith. Here's your money."

Keith took the money and kissed his aunt. "Goodbye, auntie," he said. He walked to the door and opened it. He turned to face his aunt. "If you change your mind, auntie, and want to feel a prick in your cherry cunt, call me."

"Scat!" Conchi said. "My cherry, as you call it, goes to my grave with me."

Keith laughed. "Want to bet?" he asked.

Chapter 2

If you were to ask Frank Kazarra what he thought about the building, ten to one he'd say "Magnifico!"

But he's biased! He not only owns it, he also built it.

The six-story edifice is on the corner of Classic Place and Manor Avenue. It is officially called The Kazarra Apartments but the tenants refer to it as The Apartment. It is a luxury dwelling halfway between the University and the main part of town.

The ground floor is given over to little shops where transients and tenants can buy drugs, liquor, and newspapers. A boutique sells fashionable clothing and gifts for women, while a restaurant caters to the stomach of almost anyone who enters the place.

The five stories above the swank entrance consists of three apartments each. The A apartments having two bedrooms while the B and C's have only one. There are neither kids nor real senior citizens in any of these fine apartments. The rents are high, of course, but each accommodation has more than generous floor space and features a bar in the living room and a bidet in the bathroom.

The bidet is an innovation not found in too many bathrooms in America. It is a hygienic fixture on which you sit to wash your so-called private parts. Frank Kazarra had spent a month in France, long enough to become fascinated with the laving bowl. That's why there is one in each of the bathrooms in the fifteen apartments.

The Kazarra Apartments made for easy living. A place for the sensualist, the swinger, the young, and the lovely who can pay the stiff rentals. It is a joint for snobs and has one occupant who is as unique in a bedroom as the bidets are in the bathrooms. She's a virgin!

If you ask Frank Kazarra what he thinks about his neighbor in 6-B, ten to one he'll say, "Magnifico!"

And he is right. For her age Conchi Thorne is lovely. Pure would be the better word. And there are many men in this world who would pay a large amount of cash for the pleasure of crashing her virginal gate. But who can blame them? In this modern era virgins above the age nineteen are as scarce as pubic hair on a baby.

Conchi Thorne had been born in the same year that the first volume of Hitler's Mrin Kampf was published. Her father was a gentle man, a teacher in high school, who had had only one real fling in his life. He served in the Army with General Pershing when that gallant man was in pursuit of Villa.

Like many gringos Corporal Thorne came to admire the Mexican bandit, and if his first child had been a boy he would have named him Pancho. However, the infant was a girl-the one and only issue from his sperm. He was quick to name her Conchilera over the violent protests of the woman who had carried the fetus for nine months.

It is a strange name to give to a girl who had fair skin and nothing of the Latin temperament. The name raised many questions, to be sure, but the nuns in the parochial schools, who started the girl on the road to her doctorate in philosophy, were confused by it. To them, Mary was the ideal name for a girl child.

Conchi proved to be an exceptional pupil from her first day in school and throughout the years that ended her formal education in the Sorbonne in Paris where she received a coveted Ph.D.

The University where Conchi taught philosophy is smaller than many, but unlike some private colleges it is financially sound and well regarded among educators. Best of all it pays its faculty well, leaving Conchi without a speck of worry about money.

In the years since she had left Paris Conchi had changed little in physical dimensions. Where changes had occurred they were for the better. She had gained five pounds in weight and a possible two inches around her waist. And these changes evened out to make her five-foot, seven-inch height a delight to see. After all, one hundred and thirty-five pounds makes Conchi's body quite voluptuous-the kind of body men see in their fantasies.

Conchi knows that men are sexually attracted to her, but she is without conceit or excessive vanity; and for sure, without any quickening of her sex parts when she is in the company of men. No swelling of clitoris and nipples had ever happened on Conchi's body-which may be the answer to why she is still a virgin.

Yet the idea of sex with a man neither repels nor seems to frighten her; but it doesn't stir her to comply with a man's desire to ravish her either. Yet Conchi's time may come or, as she said, the purity of her vaginal entrance will go to the grave with her.

Her strange rite of taking her nephew's sperm by mouth each week had come to her when she remembered the contents of a book she had read years before. It had been a book on health in which the author argued the point that semen gives tonicity to a woman's flesh. Of course the title and the author of the book were quickly-forgotten, but the argument for the tonic remained in the back of Conchi's mind until a summer ago when she had gone to Central America with a group studying Mayan culture.

The trip was part pleasure and part professional. Conchi wanted to publish a paper on her own findings and so kept notes on what she saw and what happened on the way.

The group probed deeper into the country than the average tourist-even to tenting with a small band of friendly natives. There were not many left, and most of the tribesmen were in middle age. Yet it was their women who were outstanding.

Unlike most Indian women, they had retained the sheen of youth in their flesh, for the brown skin of these natives was as lovely as that of a fourteen-year-old girl.

It was the witch doctor who told Conchi how it was done.

She asked in her weak Spanish, "How do your women stay so beautiful?"

"They take from the male," he said. "They take from sex. They take by mouth." The witch doctor motioned to an attractive female and continued, "They take everyday. It drains the man."

Conchi nodded in understanding. "Look," the witch doctor said as his arm moved in a half circle, "no young-no babies. We are vanishing. The women drain the men to remain young." The witch doctor smiled. "But we like it," he said.

Conchi looked at the young woman who now stood by the witch doctor. All she wore was a miniskirt made of dried grass.

Conchi said, "Does the witch doctor speak the truth?"

The woman nodded. "Si, everyday, maybe two times." She pointed first to her crotch, then to her mouth. "Once here," she said, "once here." Her golden breasts moved deliciously as she began laughing. "Men like; we like."

Conchi returned to The Apartment amazed at what she had seen in Central America. She dwelt on the facts as witnessed by herself. She decided that if semen can keep native women young, why not civilized women? It was a thought she wrestled with for a few months.

She developed a "thing" about remaining young and beautiful into her old age. It became a fetish with her; a driving desire to secure some man's semen.

Then the thought came to her to approach her nephew. He was young and would have a good supply of sperm to give her. Best of all, he wouldn't talk-she could trust him. And he would not create any problems because she was certain she could control him.

So she approached Keith Broys on New Year's Eve, forcing herself to proposition him. He was to give his sperm to her for the neat price of twenty-five dollars. He could not touch her in any way; he was to deliver his semen by hand. Keith surprised his aunt: he agreed to a weekly arrangement.

The first time he came to Conchi he was shy-shy about undressing so he would be standing nude before her as he jerked off. But with the photos to quicken him and Conchi's lovely body exposed to his eyes, he went avidly to work on his large rod. He always produced a fair amount of come-enough to please his pretty aunt's desire to stay young.

Thus it came about that Conchi could at last swallow a shot of brandy flavored with the sperm into her little glass once each week.

From then on she watched herself in the bathroom mirror and became delighted with the texture of her skin. She could see the flush of health doubly enhance her features and came to believe that her entire body was benefiting from her nephew's semen.

In reality Conchi didn't look a day older than thirty-five. She was in such fine shape that it was no mystery why men coveted her body. She was as sexy looking as she was devoid of sexual feelings. It was shameful that a pretty cunt, embellished by brown hair that was thick and curly, should be kept unavailable to the number of proud cocks that would like to make its acquaintance. But that's how it was and would remain as Conchi's shapely thighs continued to protect the soft and attractive crease between them.

And if you dared to ask Frank Kazarra what he would like to do to his neighbor in 6-B, the chances are he'd leave his mother tongue for Anglo-Saxon and say, "Fuck her!"

And why not? Wouldn't you like the chance to crack the crack of a mature virgin? You bet you would-and so would a million other guys. You'd discover that Conchi Thorne is both mature and virginal-a "piece of meat" worth twice the price of an Angus bull in Chicago!

Chapter 3

The late afternoon sun streamed through the living-room windows of Apartment 3-C. It illuminated a tableau that would have excited Boccaccio.

Gabriel Monthor lay naked on the expensive Persian rug with his head resting on a yellow bolster. His hands were clasped together on his chest as his half-closed eyes watched his playmates work on his eight-inch cock. The service he was getting had already driven him to Ecstasy-ville.

Giving the sensual service were two lovely girls. They were dressed in the uniform of a nurse-complete with pantsets on gorgeous bodies, white caps on blonde hair, with white shoes on small feet.

The girls were on their knees and elbows busy bathing Gab's cock with their sweet saliva. Their pink tongues curled around the stiff black rod as they moved their heads in unison up and down. Once in a while their tongues touched and they would stop and squeal in delight before continuing up and down the black shaft.

"Suck it a little," Gab said.

The girls stopped and Doris kissed the glans before her mouth stretched over it. She worked on the great cock with pleasure until her twin sister Donnie pushed her away.

"Let me," Donnie said.

Doris relinquished the prize pecker so her sister could suck it.

"Play with my balls, Doris," Gab said.

Doris fondled the bag while Donnie sucked the cock. They switched again and again as Gab's sensual feelings explored Ecstasyville.

Gab Monthor was a new intern at University Hospital where Doris and Donnie Classman worked in a surgical unit. Gab was a Haitian, the only son of a plantation owner on that voodoo-cursed island. He had graduated from the schools in his homeland before going to Columbia in New York where he received his medical degree.

Wanting his only son to escape the superstition-clouded life on Haiti, the wise father did all he could to make his son's education complete. Hep to American prejudices, the father warned Gab to expect social and economic barriers.

Gab was intelligent, a hard worker in all his undertakings, and had been sexually alive since childhood. Remembering his father's words, Gab was hesitant in making advances. He was a proud man, sensitive enough to fear any rebuffs that could come his way.

But that was no stoppage to his fascination with long-legged, full-breasted American girls. Much to his surprise he discovered that his Haitian background was a tremendous advantage-in sex!

It was not long after starting his internship at the hospital that Gab became acquainted with the Classman twins. And in no time at all he was "there"! It was as if these tall, well-stacked, creamy lovelies could sense his superior maleness and were eager to share it with him at anytime. He was in their apartment at all hours and often slept with them in their queen-size bed.

The twenty-two year old twins were willing sex partners who liked the thrust of Gab's long cock in their sensitive cavities. And Gab had one superb accomplishment: he could hold back his ejaculation close to an hour!

He was doing just that as Doris and Donnie took turns sucking his cock and playing with his balls. A normal man would have shot in the mouth of either twin only minutes after they began to tantalize his sexual equipment-but not Gab.

Doris finally said, "Come on, Gab, my tongue is getting tired."

"Mine too," Donnie admitted.

"All right, you splendid bitches," Gab said. He sat up between the two kneeling girls who had not even disturbed their caps as they worked on his prick. He gave each of them a kiss and stood up.

"Kneel together with your hands behind your backs," he said.

The girls knelt before Gab, who pushed his cock into Doris's mouth. He held her blonde head in his hands and stroked his prick in and out with the same movements he used to fuck her cunt.

"Let's play 'gets'," he said.

"What's that?" Donnie asked as she watched the black prick go in and out of her sister's mouth.

"The girl who gets my come will have her cunt licked until she screams for mercy." Gab switched his cock to Donnie's mouth and stroked it in and out.

"What will the other do while your tongue is at work on the winning slit?" Doris asked as she now watched the licorice stick attack Donnie's mouth.

"Wow!" Gab said as his balls began to trigger the sensation that would shoot come into Donnie's mouth. "She can make dinner for us-and if she's real nice about it, my black beauty will search her cunt from orifice to cervix."

Gab switched from Donnie back to Doris. Doris pursed her lips and tongued the underside of the big head that filled her mouth. She liked Gab to lick her cunt and wanted to win. She sucked hard and worked her tongue in a trying effort to make Gab shoot in her mouth.

"Wow!" Gab cried as his balls at last sent the come up his shaft and into the red-walled and pink-tongued mouth of Doris Classman. In his intense excitement he gripped her head and pushed his prick so the head of it disappeared under Doris's tonsils.

Doris instantly pushed Gab away as she began gagging. "God damn, Gab!" she said. "Do you want to choke me to death?"

"I'm sorry, Doris. I get carried away when I come."

"Carried away?" Donnie said. "You almost die when you shoot your load!"

"Can't help it," Gab said. "You splendid bitches send me to the ultimate when I fuck you in the mouth."

"Never mind our perfection," Doris said. "Get your own mouth ready to do some fancy licking on my perfect snatch!"

"Why don't you two come in the kitchen?" Donnie said. "I can watch you while I'm getting dinner ready."

"Why not?" Doris said. "I can lay on the table while Gab eats my cunt."

"Good idea," Gab said.

Donnie kissed him. "You can give me a little feel while I'm working."

"The pleasure's mine," he said.

While this exchange of words took place, Doris slipped off her shoes, stripped off her white pant-set, and unfastened the cap from the bobby pins that held it to her blonde hair. She turned her back to Gab who unhooked her bra so her sweet breasts escaped to freedom. When she slid her white nylon panties down her legs and bent over to pick them up Gab pushed his finger into her full-lipped twat.

"Stop that!" she said. "I want your tongue there!"

"You're going to get it-but good," Gab said.

They went to the kitchen and Doris climbed upon the table. She lay on her back and spread her fine legs. Gab sat down in a chair and hitched it forward so he could easily lick the blonde-thatched cunt that seemed so pink and delicious as he bent down to kiss it.

"One thing I'll say for you," he said. "You have the best cunt I ever licked."

"And I have the other," Donnie said as she took three TV dinners from the refrigerator. She had turned the oven on as soon as she had entered the kitchen; now she unwrapped the packages and placed them on the rack in the oven. After doing that she took off her pants and panties and was nude from the waist down to her white shoes. She looked cute as hell and was now ready for some cunt-handling from Gab.

Doris now lay with her buttocks on the edge of the table and her feet on the back of the chair Gab was using. She bent her knees so her cunt was readily available for Gab's attention. He had told her before that real blondes have nicer looking twats than do brunettes. He even called their notice to the fact that the inner lips are light colored while their perineum is scarcely darker than the adjacent surfaces. All, Gab told them, was made better by the golden hair that was so soft to touch.

"One thing I like about you, Gab," Doris said.

Gab, who had parted the plush lips of Doris's cunt with his thumbs now began fingering the tender inner lips. "What's that?" he asked.

"Your tongue. It comes out of your mouth like a dog's."

Gab laughed as his gentle fingers stretched the tender skin. "The better to lick you, my dear," he said.

Gab flattened his tongue and slid it over the moist surface of Doris's cunt. He soon had her sighing with delight. Then he made his tongue rigid and poked it into the vaginal opening, effecting a slight penetration. He fucked her hole with the tip until Doris said, "Oh, glory!"

Donnie became infected by her sister's apparent enjoyment. She moved to Gab's side and pulled his hand away from her sister's twat. She spread her legs and placed the black hand on her pink lined cunt. "Feel it, Gab," she begged.

Now Gab licked Doris's cunt while at the same time he felt Donnie's delight. He stroked the hair on it and then pinched the full lips until Donnie cried, "Not so rough, you black bastard!"

Without missing a lick on Doris's twat he pushed a finger up Donnie's and finger-fucked her until she was dancing up and down.

"Oh, glory!" Doris said as Gab now began to concentrate on her small bud. He sucked and licked the tiny rod until Doris felt as if her cunt would burst into flames. "Gab! GAB! Gab! Eat it!" she yelled as the orgasmic pinging of her uterus began. A slight perspiration beaded her upper lip as familiar contractions moved from her ass to cunt, forcing her tiny bud to throb.

"Oh glory!" she said again as she got Gab's head between her thighs. She squeezed the head as her spasms reached their peak. Gab forced his lips against hers and continued to lick the quivering twat until Doris yelled, "Enough!"

Gab hadn't neglected Donnie while he brought her sister to the begging point. But now Donnie stopped dancing up and down on Gab's finger. She said, "How about fucking me now, Gab?"

"I'm hungry," Gab said.

"And I can't wait!"

"Fuck her, Gab, or she'll cry," Doris said as she released Gab's head from her soft thighs.

"How was it?" Gab asked.

"You ate it just fine, Gab," Doris said.

"My dessert," he said. "Now where's my dinner?"

"Fuck first," Donnie said as she bent over the table. Her fulsome ass curved invitingly. Reaching behind her she pulled the lips apart. "Here it is, you black bastard-fuck it!"

Gab stood with his stiffening cock in hand, aiming it at Donnie's rear end. "Which hole, my splendid bitch?" he asked.

"Not that virgin one-don't you dare!" she said as Gab pressed the head of his cock against her anus.

"Fuck her, Gab," Doris said. "I want to watch you perform."

Gab pushed the length of his prick into Donnie's waiting cunt. He reached up under her and squeezed her bra-covered breasts. He began the sexual rhythm that ultimately makes the body feel so good.

Doris reached between Gab's legs and pulled on his balls. "You like to fuck us, don't you, Gab?"

"Oui, mes amies," he said as he continued to lurch against the beautiful crack that held so much pleasure. "You are almost the best."

"Why you big black cock!" Doris said. She pinched Gab's balls lightly in the palm of her hand. "Who's best?"

"Let up, you bitch!" Gab yelled.

"Who's best?"

"You two, you two!" Gab yelled again.

Doris released the bag as Donnie said pantingly, "Fuck, Gab-you almost had me coming."

Gab returned to his thrusting and soon had Donnie crying. "Man, man, what a nerve-shattering bang!"

Gab moved quicker now."

"Do it, you black bastard!" Donnie called. "Put it all in!"

Gab stopped. "What do you think I have," he inquired indignantly, "a ten-foot pole?"

"Give it, give it!" Donnie squealed as Gab's handsome prick impelled the orgasm that made her sink flat against the table-a partly naked, shaking, satisfied blonde.

Gab pulled his cock from Donnie's twat. "I'll save this load for later," he said, adding, "I'm hungry."

Without any regard for hygienics the three sat down at the table to eat their TV dinners. Both girls' cunts remained uncovered while Gab's prick now nestled between his bare thighs.

Donnie was the first to speak. "What's with that line, 'almost best'?"

"Yes," Doris chimed in. "Who's better than we are, you big black cock?"

Gab smiled until a forkful of meat loaf reached his lips. He opened his mouth and unloaded the fork. He chewed awhile, deliberately.

"Come on," Donnie said. "Tell us."

At last Gab said, "The best is always the woman I haven't had in bed yet. A new face, a new cunt, perhaps a new kind of experience."

"Who do you have in mind?" Doris asked sweetly.

Gab chewed on another load of meat loaf before he said, "A woman in this building."

Donnie pointed her fork at Gab, "I bet I know!" she said.

"I do too!" Doris said. "That woman in 6-B!"

Gab pushed the empty container away and sat back. "I'll say this: you could be right."

"Why you black bastard!" Donnie said as she finished the last portion of potatoes on her plate.

"Why you big black cock!" Doris said. "We should kick you the hell out of our apartment!"

Gab laughed-and it turned into a chuckle as he said, "You splendid bitches don't, believe that I'd fuck anyone else as long as your fine cunts and wet mouths will take my prick?"

"We wouldn't trust you," Donnie said.

"You can say that again," Doris said, getting up from the table and moving to Gab's side. She reached under the table and pulled Gab's cock. "When you start putting this in somebody else's cunt you can count us out."

"Don't worry," Gab said as he made a pass at the twat by his side. "If I do that you can cut it off-and I'll eat it!"

Donnie came to Gab's side and both girls kissed his forehead. Doris said, "That we'll do."

Donnie said, "Let's go to bed and play house."

"What better way to spend an evening?" Gab asked.

Chapter 4

About the same time the Classman twins were being fucked by the black rod of Gab Monthor, the virgin in 6-B left her apartment and knocked on the door to 6-C.

A red-haired girl wearing only a one-piece black leotard opened the door. "Hi, Conchi!" she said. "Ready for your lesson?"

"Yes, of course," Conchi said as she entered the apartment. She turned to the girl who had followed her into the room. "When I see your body, Tina, I feel ashamed that I ever thought of belly dancing."

"You have a wonderful body, Conchi," the redhead said, "and belly dancing is one way to make it more exciting to men."

"It and I don't see eye to eye," Conchi said.

The redhead laughed pleasantly. "Mercy, mercy," she said. "To hear you talk makes me believe you don't agree with sex."

"I don't, Tina."

"But men!" the girl said. "How can you do without men?"

"Easy-oh, I like them, but only socially. No other way."

"Haven't you ever?" the girl asked.

"Not ever," Conchi said.

Tina's blue eyes were almost black as she looked at Conchi with amazement. "Why you poor dear! It is the best thing in the world to get!"

"Do you really like it, Tina?"

"Conchi," the redhead said as she placed a hand on her pupil's shoulder, "intercourse is the only thing in this world that can be a real pleasure."

"What you just said makes it easier for me to talk to you."

"About what, for mercy's sake?"

"I have a problem, Tina, and I have to talk to someone about it."

"Then let's talk-let's talk like real friends, Conchi."

Conchi smiled her relief and placed a hand over that of the girl's on her shoulder. "I would rather wait until later."

"All right, Conchi; we'll dance and then talk."

Bettina Werp was the owner of a large and successful business downtown. She was a professional dancer who had given up stage and television work for a place of her own. Next to sex, dancing was her main thing. Conchi Thorne and a few other women came to her apartment for lessons; the rest went to her well-furnished and spacious studio where she taught all kinds of dancing.

The room the two were in had been changed into a small studio with mirrored walls and dancers' bars. It had started out as a place for Tina to practice. When Conchi and a few other women wanted lessons closer to home, Tina had been a good sport and agreed to teach them in her apartment.

Tina slipped her hand from under Conchi's and said, "Let me start some music on the stereo so we'll get in the mood, yes?"

Conchi smiled. "Why not? I'm here to dance."

"Good," Tina said as she placed some records on the automatic changer. "And let's slip into the right costume tonight, shall we?"

"But Tina," Conchi began.

"What's under your robe?" Tina asked.

Conchi opened her robe to reveal herself dressed in a halter top and a long skirt. Her midriff was bare. "Like it?" she said.

Tina smiled. "Not bad, but let me show you a real belly dancer's outfit."

"What is the matter with mine?" Conchi asked.

"Mercy, nothing! But half the fun is wearing the right costume."

Tina stepped behind a screen for a moment and returned with some filmy material. Without any show of embarrassment she removed her splendid body from the one-piece leotard in front of Conchi. Her dancer's legs were firm and shapely without any presence of muscle. A patch of almost copper-colored hair was on her smooth belly. And her breasts stood out, pointing their red-tipped nipples right at Conchi.

As Conchi watched, Tina slipped into a G-string that supported a long transparent skirt of filmy material. Then she confined her superb breasts within the cups of a jeweled bra made especially for her.

As she swirled in front of Conchi, Tina said, "How about this kind of costume?"

"It is lovely," Conchi said.

"I'll get one for you." Tina went behind the screen again and returned with bra and G-string skirt. She handed the theatrical vestment to Conchi. "Put it on-you'll dance better."

"Why not?" Conchi began to undress, the idea of stripping nude in front of Tina become sensually exciting to her. Or perhaps it was the music that was filling the room with its savory beats.

The two had always been informal with each other but had never before exposed their lovely bodies when together. Conchi became aware of Tina's dark blue eyes on her as she unfastened the halter to free her quivering breasts.

"Beauties," Tina said.

Conchi nodded in agreement before slipping out of her long skirt and the briefs she wore beneath it.

"You're sexy," Tina said. She moved closer to Conchi and did something that no woman had ever done before. Her hand moved slowly toward Conchi's naked breasts and felt one, squeezing it.

Conchi was amazed into stillness. And remained so as Tina's fingers glided downward over her belly, coming to rest on her curly brown cunt hair. Tina slid her fingers into the mass and pulled on the hair gently.

"Really great," Tina said. "But don't be afraid of me. Mercy no!"

Conchi smiled. How could she be annoyed with this girl who could become the teacher to her nephew's sex education? "I don't mind, really," she said.

"Don't, for mercy sake, get me wrong-I'm not a lesbian. I was just admiring. But, holy cow-how have you managed to stay away from men this long?"

"It hasn't been easy, Tina."

"I'll bet. Now get into your costume and we'll go to work."

Conchi dressed in the bra and G-string skirt. She asked. "What do we do tonight, Tina?"

Tina looked with approval at Conchi. "Let's limber up first before we shake our bellies." It was surprising how well Conchi's body responded to the twists, bends, and contortions that preceded her belly dancing lesson. For her age, she was superb. Her hips rolled and vibrated while her breasts swung from side to side. She was without a doubt becoming adept at this belly dancing craze.

But it was Bettina who gave a performance that equaled the best of the best belly dancing in the whole wide world. She could oscillate her cunt so fast that it moved from side to side six times a second! No man could watch her whispering twat without wondering what it could do to his eager cock.

Both Conchi and Tina were breathless when the lesson ended.

"I must live in a freak pit," Conchi said, "to take lessons like this."

"Mercy," Tina replied. "You will see how much this does for your body. It will stimulate you, make your skin fresh and beautiful."

"I have noticed my complexion," Conchi said. "It is becoming more healthy."

"See?" Tina said. "I told you belly dancing will improve what you have."

"Perhaps it does," Conchi said. "But I have a very special 'diet' that I follow. It is one that improves the flesh."

"Really?" Tina said. "Don't tell me what it is. I don't like diets."

"There is," Conchi said, smiling, "the possibility that you already are on that diet."

"Mercy," Tina said, moving her red head from side to side. "I need no diet to keep me in perfect health. I dance my way to physical fitness."

"Good for you," Conchi said.

"How about a drink-then we can talk about your problem?"

"I would like that," Conchi said.

While Tina went to prepare the drinks, Conchi took off the jeweled bra and G-string skirt. She put on her own halter and skirt and slipped on her robe. She sat down in a comfortable chair to await Tina's return.

When Tina did return with the drinks, she was dressed in black slacks and a white blouse. She handed a glass to Conchi and sat down opposite her friend. "What is the problem you want to discuss?" she asked directly.

Conchi hesitated. "Tina, it is hard for me to tell you, but I did promise I would talk to someone."

"About what?" Tina asked. She sipped her Martini and watched Conchi.

Conchi was embarrassed. "My nephew needs help."

"Is your Martini okay?" Tina asked.

"Yes."

"Is he the young man who comes to see you?"

"Then you have seen him!"

"Of course. I thought he was your boyfriend."

"My God, at my age!"

"I didn't know you lived like a nun," Tina said. "He is an attractive boy."

Conchi nodded. "Keith is young, Tina, but he's so-so virile. He is a male and his mind is only on one thing-sex."

"What's better?" Tina asked.

"Well, Keith's mind is on sex all the time- even though he has never had a girl."

"I just can't believe it," Tina said. "A good-looking boy like him should have little trouble getting a girl to screw-say, do virgins run in your family?"

"No, about the virgins." Conchi laughed, then said, "That is the trouble, Tina, he is very shy-very, very shy."

Tina smiled in disbelief. "That's silly, Conchi. Girls today like sex too much to make a man feel shy."

"Perhaps, but that is how Keith is-shy."

Conchi sipped her drink and listened to Tina say, "Mercy-such a nice boy, too."

"In all seriousness-and in strict confidence-he wants me."

"You mean he wants to screw you?"

"Yes."

Both women sipped their Martinis before Tina said, "Why don't you let him?"

"He's my nephew!"

"Sure he is," Tina said. "So what? Today it's fashionable for relatives to screw one another."

"Perhaps it is so," Conchi said, "but I do not want to be-to be screwed, as you call it, by anyone."

"What a shame!" Tina said. Then laughed. "I'll bet that you want me to become his teacher!"

"Would you, Tina?" Conchi said eagerly.

Bettina laughed again. "Why not? I enjoy sex as well as any man, and lots better than most women."

"You have just taken a load off my mind!" Conchi said.

"Want another drink?" Tina asked after she finished hers.

"Yes," Conchi said.

When Tina returned with the drinks she said, "The idea of being a sex educator to a young and good-looking guy turns me on."

Conchi took the offered drink from Tina and said, "I feel so much better. I had the fear you would resent my asking for help."

Tina sat down and asked, "How is your nephew hung?"

"I don't know," Conchi lied. She swallowed some of her drink to cover a small feeling of embarrassment.

"It doesn't matter, really," Tina said. "He'll most likely have the usual six inches and all I'll have to do is teach him how to use it."

"That is what Keith will like," Conchi said, "and best of all, he will have no more need to pester me for it."

"Don't you feel any desire to be screwed at all?" Bettina looked closely at Conchi.

"None-and I never have."

"That's odd," Tina said. "I'd swear all girls not only feel the need but want a cock for the terrific pleasure it can give."

"I wouldn't know about that," Conchi said. "At fifty I have no worries nor wants where sex is concerned."

"Well I'll be damned!" Tina said. She laughed. "You sure must live in that freak pit you mentioned."

"Maybe." Conchi sipped her Martini then said: "What one never has is never missed."

"How true!" Tina agreed. "But you don't know what you're missing!"

"Will you teach Keith?" Conchi asked.

"Will I?" Tina finished her drink. "You can bet on it, Conchi."

Conchi finished her Martini. "You don't know what a relief it will be not to hear Keith beg for it."

Bettina stood up. "You mean you have been worked up over that?"

"Yes." Conchi rose to her feet. "Very much so. So much, indeed, that I had the nerve to ask you for help."

Tina laughed. "Send him to me. I'll give him the complete course, bit by bit, and when I finish he'll know what sex is all about."

The two walked to the foyer where Conchi paused to say, "Is Friday night all right with you?"

"Fine," Tina said. "I'll be anxious to start getting your nephew on the road to sex."

Conchi kissed her friend. "God bless you, Tina, for helping me."

"Helping you?" Tina exclaimed as she returned Conchi's kiss. "I'm the one who will be helped. Imagine getting someone I can hand-raise on sexual intercourse!"

"He won't be looking for your hand, Tina," Conchi said wryly. "What he wants is between your legs."

"He'll get that too," Tina said. She opened the door to let Conchi out.

Conchi said, "I can never thank you enough, Tina."

"Don't thank me, Conchi. I intend to get more fun out of it than your nephew will."

"I doubt that," Conchi said.

As she opened the door to her own apartment she was certain that the door to 6-A was ajar. She went to sleep that night wondering about the widower who lived there. Kazarra was her landlord. She dreamt he had her tied upside down to a light fixture while he explored with his finger her virginal possession.

Chapter 5

Eno Yaw was one of the elevator operators in the Kazarra Apartments. He worked the four-to-twelve shift and knew all the tenants in the building. He was well liked because he was always courteous and obliging.

Yaw was a friendly old man of fifty who always looked half fed and all clean. His gray hair was clipped short and his brown eyes seemed to be twinkling all the time, as if he saw the world as a vaudeville show.

Eno lived alone in a basement apartment in the Kazarra building. He had always been a loner, even in the merchant marine where he had served for years. He still walked like a real sailor and jerked off like one. He considered his big tool to be his best friend and talked to it frequently, especially when he had it out to play with. He called it Yam.

There were two and only two women in Eno's imagined love life. One was Conchi Thorne. Eno talked to Yam about her-the way her legs and ass looked when she left the elevator to walk to her apartment.

"See that," he'd say to Yam, "see that! One day we'll get your head between them legs and up that cunt. Won't that be some diddle, Yam?"

And Yam would answer in the best way he knew how: he'd raise his head in quick anticipation.

Perhaps Eno sensed what few persons really knew-that Conchi Thorne was a virgin. Or close to it. That the sexy shape she carried so proudly had never been fondled, mounted, or subdued sexually could be a fact. Eno liked the thought of that and in his fantasies about her she was always pure until Yam went up her virgin hole.

There were many females in the building and Eno was polite to them all. But Conchi was his real turn-on; the sight of her legs and ass crossing the carpet between the elevator and the door to Apartment 6-B was enough to quicken Yam.

The other woman in his imaginary love life was not a woman at all. She was a teeny-bopper, a little girl just past puberty and ready to find out what kind of excitement a big cock like Yam could give her.

Eno Yaw was bright enough to know he had no chance at all to fuck Conchi Thorne. She was up there in the clouds where he couldn't go. Oh, he fucked her all right-in his dreams. And his erect tool did measure nine inches of solid blood-hard flesh that he handled gently and always slowly as his fantasy undressed Conchi so Yam could part the lush lips of her cunt to enter the hall of pleasure.

On the other hand, a teeny-bopper was a possibility. Eno realized the risks that went with the pleasure of child fucking, but he just couldn't control his desire. He wanted to screw a baby cunt and his dreams of doing so made Yam so stiff that Eno often cried out in the pain of wanting pubescent flesh to stick Yam into.

There were a lot of teeny-boppers around and on his time off he would cross the street to the park and sit there watching them. Especially the little girls who wore short-skirt dresses.

Eno felt that he could get a teeny-bopper easier by an offering of money; not a little nickels and dimes deal-my God, no! A good offer like, say, a hundred dollars! By God, that should get one for him. He had saved the money, now all he needed was the courage to approach one without getting himself into trouble.

He had decided that it was worth a hundred dollars just to see her cunt. But of course he had more on his mind than just eyeing a baby slit. What he wanted first of all was to eat it! Man, how the juices frosted his mouth at the thought. His guts turned over and Yam made his pants bulge as he pictured himself licking and sucking-and then fucking the pristine twat of a little girl.

Just the thoughts of getting a young girl in position made his cock rise and grow hard. And whenever he could he would take the slender Yam out and talk to it.

"Someday, Yam," he'd say, "me and you'll get to know a little one and then we'll spread her out and dive into her little hairless nest. I'll lick her twat and suck it while you get up ready to plunge into it!"

All the time he talked he would gently and slowly finger the slender shaft.

"Imagine that, Yam," he'd continue, "you fuck it real good after I lick it real good; and if the little one is real pleased why we'll fuck it and suck it again and again!"

As Yam grew with the mind pictures and the fingering of his flesh, Eno would breathe heavily and begin to snort like a horse.

"Oh, Yammy, Yammy!" he'd say. "Here you come like an oil well gushing out for its first strike! Shoot it, boy, shoot it out… oh boy how I could fuck her!"

And as Yam became reduced in size Eno would lay back and relax in the excitement of having fucked his teeny-bopper again-but good.

Naturally such dreams sought some kind of better fulfillment than just fantasy, so until the great day arrived Eno began to buy teen magazines. He'd select a likely prospect and cut her picture out. Of course it had to show more than a face; it had to have legs and a little ass and everything.

So when he now got the urge Eno would lay on the couch in his basement apartment and play with Yam. He'd get to breathing and snorting as he held the picture near Yam's head. And Yam, to show his own appreciation would shoot his come on the little girl.

Yam was indeed a heavy piece of equipment for an old man to tote around. But Eno didn't mind a bit. He loved Yam like a brother and was very pleased that good old Yam was able to get up and go on the many occasions when Eno's mind dipped into the great tub of sex.

But for all the power of his desire for baby flesh he did not neglect Conchi. Every evening when she got off the elevator he'd grab at Yam and say, "Yam, how'd you like to fuck that beauty?"

Of course the long slender prick didn't answer in words but in action. It would begin to stir and before Eno closed the elevator doors it would be up and ready for some kind of doing. At such time, watching through the little window in the door, Eno would take Yam out and dress him down for a couple of very pleasurable strokes. After which Yam would be tucked in again with the promise of more handling, come twelve o'clock.

When the miracle happened so suddenly, Eno couldn't believe his luck. A for-real teeny-bopper had come right out and offered Eno her goodies!

Golden-haired Joyce Craigh had sailed effusively into the lobby one afternoon while Eno was sitting idly in his elevator. She approached him and said, "Want to buy some cookies, mister?"

Eno stared at the girl and she stared back. "Well, pops, do you?" she asked.

Eno was baffled for a moment by the nearness of the sweet little girl. "Maybe I do," he said. He looked down toward the little beauty's shorts-covered crotch. "How much?"

"Not that, pops-cookies," she said.

Eno's face reddened and his eyes became moist. "How much?"

The girl smiled. "For the cookies, pops, the sale price is one dollar. For the other-" The girl smiled again.

Eno's mouth watered. He felt like he'd made it to paradise.

"You catch on, pops?" the blonde asked.

"I'll have to go to my apartment-for some money," Eno said. He hoped against hope that no one would ring for the elevator. Trembling with anticipation he went downstairs to his room and the little long-haired blonde followed him.

She plopped herself down on the studio couch, stretching out her thin but excellently turned legs. She was dressed for the April sun that had warmed the day enough for her to wear shorts.

"You live here by yourself, pops?" she asked as Eno made a pretense of searching for the dollar.

"Yeah." Eno looked at the little doll who had entered his abode so daringly.

"Isn't it lonely being the only one here?" she asked.

"Sure is, missy." Eno now looked straight at the crotch he wanted so much to lick, suck, and fuck. "Ain't you afraid?"

"Of what?" the girl said. "What the hell could you do, pops?"

"Don't say that, missy, because I ain't that old!"

The girl laughed. It was a pleasant sound in the one-room apartment. "Maybe I could come and visit you sometime-kinda keep you company?"

Eno's heart was pounding. Had he really reached the gates to paradise at last? "Your folks wouldn't want you to visit an old man like me."

"To hell with my folks," she said. "What they don't know won't hurt them anyway."

Eno took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. He reached into his pants pocket and brought out a bill. "Here's your dollar, missy."

"Thanks, pops," she said as she exchanged the box of cookies for the money.

Was the little girl for real? He knew he'd find out soon. "What can we do if you visit me?" he asked.

"I know what I can do," she said, "but I don't know what you can do." The girl clutched the bill in one hand and raised her legs. She spread them wide as she said, "What about it, pops?"

Eno sweated.

"Damn it, mister, do you want to fuck me or don't you?" she asked as she lowered her legs and stood up. She was a little thing-not much over five feet tall.

Eno wiped more sweat and said, "You won't get me into trouble, missy?"

"Not if you pay me for it," the girl said.

"How old are you, missy?" Eno looked at the prize before him. "It don't matter much; just like to know."

"Almost fifteen, pops, and no hair on my cunt yet."

"I like that," Eno said.

"I know, pops. Old men like to fuck hairless cunts."

"They do for a fact, missy."

"Now will you pay for a piece of ass or won't you?"

Eno's face changed color like a litmus paper. "You betcha, missy," he said as his heart pounded like it had never pounded before.

"What's the matter, pops? Your face is like fire."

"I'm all right-just thinking."

"You evil minded, pops?"

"Not evil, missy, just hot," Eno said.

The girl placed her hand on Eno's arm. "How much, pops?"

"Whatever you say, missy." Eno felt as if a heart attack was imminent.

"Pops," the girl said as she danced around the room before stopping in front of Eno. "I'll be your pal for fifty-dollars that is."

Eno began to shake. "You'll diddle me for fifty?"

"Can you still diddle, old man?" The little girl laughed. "I thought that old men eat cunt."

"I can diddle as best I always could, missy," Eno assured the pretty one. "Do you like old men to eat you?"

"Nothing like it, pops." The girl laughed. "I can't wait to get you down there."

"How do you know I'll eat it?" Eno sweated some more as the thought of licking the girl's cunt passed through his mind.

"You'll get down on it, pops," the girl assured him, "or you won't fuck me at all."

Eno choked on his emotions. "Sure will, missy," he said.

"Look, pops," the girl said. She fingered her shorts until she had the crotch piece pulled aside. "Take a feel!"

Eno almost died right there. He began to tremble as he lowered his hand. The bewitchment of the moment was almost too much for him.

"Feel it, pops. It ain't gonna bite you!"

Eno drooled as his finger thrilled at the touch of the golden flesh on the little twat's slit. "Missy," Eno blurted out, "I'd sure like to fuck that!"

"Eat it first and it's a deal," the girl said. She pushed Eno's finger away from her cunt. "How about Saturday morning, pops?"

Eno was transfixed; he couldn't talk.

"Well, pops, do you want me or don't you?"

"Gimme another feel," Eno said.

"Go on, pops, you couldn't stand it," the girl said. She moved to the door and opened it. She turned and said, "Saturday morning, pops. Ten-thirty." She laughed and was gone.

When Eno got upstairs after straightening Yam, the girl was out of sight. Luckily the minutes spent with the teeny-bopper had passed without being missed. And all the rest of the hours on the elevator were spent in a fond dream. He would have a teeny-bopper of his own, come Saturday. He'd sure lick her and suck her and fuck her until Yam gave out. He smelt of the finger that had left the little twat. It held a faint trace of piss and was exciting to Eno's sense of smell. He put the finger in his mouth and sucked it. God damn, he thought, come Saturday I'll have my head between a pair of baby legs and my tongue on a baby slit.

The thoughts of having his teeny-bopper at last kept Yam stiff all night-that is until a little after twelve when Eno talked to Yam and stroked him so fondly he shot his load with all the force a bullet gets when the powder explodes.

Chapter 6

About the same time Eno Yaw was dreaming of his good fortune in a way that made Yam stand at attention, Conchi Thorne was getting ready for her weekly supply of medicine.

She lay seminude on the couch watching her nephew's cock as it was being handled in a manner that would soon propel the "cream" into her brandy glass.

"What will you say when I tell you I have found a place for you to put that?" she said.

"God damn it, auntie," Keith exploded. "I want to fuck you!"

"Well I certainly am sorry I went to the trouble to get a girl interested in you and that thing!" she said.

Keith stopped pulling on his prick and said, "You did? You did?"

"Of course I did," Conchi said.

Keith stepped forward and leaned down so he could kiss his aunt on her forehead-although he really wanted to kiss the curly hair that seemed to gleam through her panties. "Who is it?" he asked eagerly.

"I shall not tell you one little detail until you have finished," Conchi said.

Keith returned to his former position and began stroking his cock again. It had slumped down when he had neglected it. "I still want to fuck you," he said.

"Forget it, Keith." Conchi was dressed in a lace plunge bra with panties to match. The black of both intimate garments made a splendid contrast to her light flesh.

Keith bent backward so his cock seemed to thrust forward, pointing at his aunt's body. "You keep saying no when I want to screw you, but you lay there in front of me naked."

Conchi laughed gently. "If you will look closely you will see that I am not naked."

Keith continued handling his rod. He said, "What would you call it?"

In actuality Conchi had lied. Neither the bra nor the panties were opaque enough to hide her charms. The red nipples could be seen on their mounds while the luxuriant tangle of her pubic hair showed through quite plainly. If her legs had been spread, her cunt would have been revealed in all the lush-lipped excitement of its exposure.

"I am not nude," Conchi said. "But I shall be when you ask for it."

Keith pulled his peter and looked with almost tongue-hanging intentness at Conchi's body. "Take off the bra!" he said.

Conchi raised her back and stretched her hands so she could unsnap the bra. It loosened and fell onto her thighs. The full beauty of her ripe tits came to Keith's avid gaze.

"My God, auntie, you torture me!" Keith cried as he took a forward step.

"Don't you dare, young man!" Conchi said. "Work that thing up so I can get my-my tonic."

Keith pulled and cried again: "The panties, auntie, the panties!"

Conchi stood up so she could push her panties off her hips and down her fine legs. She stepped out of the lacy thing and lay back on the couch with her legs spread.

"Cunto! Cunto! Cunto!" Keith breathed the word through clenched teeth.

Conchi barely had time to sit up and cap her nephew's crimson-headed prick with her glass before the come spurted forth as the shaft began to pulsate.

Keith stood there jerking his prick with his eyes closed. His beautiful aunt gathered his semen by squeezing the head of the now dripping cock. "What a fine liquid you give to me, Keith," she said as she worked the last drop into the glass.

Keith opened his eyes and let go of his prick. "If I had my way," he said, "I'd shoot it in your mouth or into your cunt."

"As my students say, no way!" Conchi sat down on the couch again and poured brandy into the glass. The come floated on the surface of the alcoholic liquor. Swirling it around for a moment, she drank it neatly. Pouring a little more brandy into the glass, she asked, "Do you or don't you want to hear about the sex doll I have contacted?"

Keith stood there looking at his aunt's goodies. His prick now hung down in dejection.

Conchi became aware at last that the play was over and she was sitting naked in front of her nude nephew. "My God," she said, "I must put something on or that thing will rise again."

"Let me fuck you, auntie," Keith said.

Conchi rose and walked to the chair where her blue robe lay. She put it on and returned to the couch. She bent down for the bottle and poured another brandy. Looking into her nephew's brown eyes she said, "Keith, go put on your clothes. I can't stand your nakedness."

"Ha!" Keith said. "You can stand anything as long as my juice pops into your glass. Let's fuck!"

Conchi watched as her nephew's prick began to move. "Put on your clothes, right now. If you don't, I swear I will not divulge the girl's name and address!"

"You're putting me on," Keith said. Now he looked intently at his aunt. "There is no girl."

Conchi moved the brandy glass so the liquid swirled around inside. "There is a girl, smarty, and you will never know her if you do not get dressed this instant!"

"You're kidding," Keith said. His prick had relaxed again.

"I am not," Conchi said. She swallowed the brandy. "Nor do I want to play games with a nudist."

"Okay, auntie," Keith said. He walked slowly toward the bedroom where his clothes were. He stopped at the door. "Is she nice?" he asked.

"A tall redhead," Conchi said.

Keith dressed quickly and returned to his aunt. He sat down by her and said, "What kind of girl?"

"A nice girl, Keith." Conchi poured a little more brandy into her glass and held it the way true brandy drinkers do.

"Is she tall, auntie?" Keith asked.

"Keith, you do not hear so well. I told you she is a tall redhead."

"I'd go ape over something like that," Keith said. He put an arm around his aunt and hugged her. "Who is she?"

"Her name is Bettina Werp. She is beautiful."

"I don't believe you because I can't be that lucky."

"Don't call your aunt a liar, Keith. I resent that."

"Okay! Okay! You needn't get huffy with me,just because I can't believe a girl would be interested in a guy like me."

"That is your trouble, Keith. You lack the confidence male chauvinists have."

"I'm shy," Keith said. "Chauvinism has nothing to do with it. I really like girls."

Conchi ruffled Keith's hair. "I know you do,,, but you have to learn to go forward with them. Girls certainly like you. If you gave them half a chance you would know that for truth."

"When do I meet this doll?" Keith asked as he tried to smooth down his hair.

Conchi smiled. "Friday night-and she will surprise you."

"Does she know I'm coming?"

"She expects you to."

"Auntie-you don't mean that literally, do you?"

"All I know is that she won't bite you. Do as she tells you. After you see her your shyness will disappear."

"I sure hope it's that easy." Keith stood up now. "Is she for real, auntie?"

"Trust me. She has agreed to be your sex educator. What more can you ask for?" Conchi sniffed her brandy.

"Her twat," Keith said.

Conchi sipped her brandy. "Bettina is not a prostitute, so treat her like a lady,"

"Do ladies fuck?" Keith asked.

"My God!" Conchi slapped her forehead with her free hand.

Keith bent down to kiss his aunt on one of her now rosy cheeks. "Are you sure she wants to meet me?"

"Keith. She has seen you. She thinks you are handsome. She knows you are not tall-it makes no difference to her!"

A loud sigh escaped Keith's lips. "Amen!" he said.

Conchi stood up beside her nephew. "What does that mean?" she asked as she placed her empty glass on the table.

"I'll get to fuck a girl-that's what it means!"

"I was right when I told her you were sex crazy."

"You did?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"She said she likes sex too."

"She's not a nympho?"

"I don't know that. She is a nice girl and I suppose a nice girl can be sexy."

Keith hugged and kissed Conchi. "You sweet. woman!" he said. He backed away from Conchi. "No matter what happens it's you I really, really want to screw!"

"Good night!" Conchi said, pushing Keith toward the door.

Keith's lips pecked at his aunt's cheeks. "You're so good to me."

"Scat! or I won't tell you where she lives."

"Where does she live!" Keith asked excitedly.

Conchi laughed. "Across the hall in 6-C."

"That close?"

"When you come Friday night just knock on her door. She will be expecting you."

"That close?" Keith said as he opened the hall door.

"Out!" Conchi said. She closed the door and leaned against it. "My God!" she said aloud. "Won't he ever take no for an answer?"

Chapter 7

The black girl, naked down to the soft golden slippers on her feet, walked back and forth in front of the Italian sitting in a leather-covered lounge chair.

At the moment Frank Kazarra paid no mind to the black beauty who paraded her flesh so proudly. He had one hand on his cock as it bulged beneath his slacks and with the other he was signing two rent receipts which lay on the end table beside the chair.

He dropped the pen as his eyes returned to the smooth velvet flesh of the black doll. "Nigger-baby," he said, smiling, "you've got what it takes-and it's all where it counts."

Hips swaying, breasts swinging, the girl walked slowly to the table and picked up the receipts. She carried them to an antique desk and placed them in a drawer. She turned and relaxed so her rounded buttocks were resting against the edge of the desk.

"Well, master?" Phyllis Reger said.

"Come here, Niggerbaby," Frank said. "I don't like to be kept waiting when this rod is ready for action."

The girl smiled but didn't move. "There's time, lover. Lots of time."

The Italian looked down at the hand that was squeezing the bulge. "Niggerbaby-you're fooling with an H-bomb!"

"Really, Frank?"

"Damn right!" Frank said. "This little bomb is going to blow your insides apart."

"What's the rush, lover?" Phyllis Reger was teasing. "Are you going someplace?"

"Right into your black cunt, baby-deep, deep, deep in it so you'll taste my juice in your mouth."

"I want you hard, Frank. Hard, hard, and harder!"

Frank unzipped his fly and brought his cock into the open. It was a whopper-all of nine inches from head to balls.

Frank held onto his prick and said, "How's this, Niggerbaby?"

"Hard, Frank. I want it as hard as a cop's club." Phyllis moved slowly toward him. "That's what I call hard."

"Get me a glass of wine, Phyllis," Frank said, "and I'll suck your tits. That will make it as hard as a brick."

Phyllis Reger lived in Apartment 2-C. Two receipts she had placed in the desk drawer were for the apartment and the store she rented on the ground floor. She didn't fuck for the free rents; they were monthly presents from the owner of the building.

When she returned from the bar, Phyllis put the two wineglasses on the end table. Frank reached out to grab her, but she backed off. "Have a drink, Frank," she said.

"You black bitch-you're giving me the works again!" Frank picked up a glass and swallowed some red wine.

"What's the hurry, lover?" Phyllis raised her arms so her fine breasts rose to a tantalizing position. "Let's enjoy ourselves."

"Don't we always?" Frank asked.

Phyllis laughed. "With a prick like that, how could we do otherwise?"

Phyllis and Frank had many things in common. Both had come up from what is called the wrong side of the tracks, Phyllis had been born in Harlem and had suffered every vestige of hate that abounds in the white world for a black person.

Frank had been born in 1925 on the same day Wyoming got a woman for governor. His father and grandfather had been hod carriers and neither had placed his family on a level of living that could be called middle-class.

With Phyllis, strict attention to her schoolwork had taken her to Barnard where she had to struggle to graduate. From college she went to Macy's where she became a highly regarded buyer of women's fashions.

Frank followed in his father's footsteps-but only for a while. He entered the Army and found many avenues of learning open to him. He had a knack for construction work and on parting from the Army he attended evening classes in a nearby community college.

At last the days of living frugally came to an end for Phyllis. She left the big city for more pleasant living in upper New York State. She put her savings in a swank boutique which she established in Frank Kazarra's building.

Frank was not afraid of taking chances. He married a rich woman who had money to invest-and Frank did that for her. However, he was shrewd and honest with the money he borrowed from his wife and his building was a testament to his skillful operations and her finances.

It was Frank who, after several months of seeing Phyllis, had suggested the prick and cunt combination that led to the free rent treaty. Why not? Phyllis was twenty-three years younger than Frank. Where else could he get a clean black girl whose skin was soft as velvet? And where could Phyllis get a white prick as large as the kind so erroneously attributed to all black men?

For Phyllis, taking Frank's cock was no big deal. She had had big pricks in her cunt since she attended high school; and one in college had been all of twelve inches long! She had taken that one down to its balls, and in return it had shoved her womb out of place-had in fact tipped it so fortunately that she couldn't become pregnant.

"Look, Frank, my tits are ready," Phyllis said.

And they were indeed. The nipples were dark red and large. Now they protruded outward, erect and ready for some wine bathing and mouth sucking.

"Bring them here, Niggerbaby," Frank said.

Phyllis mounted the lounge chair with Frank's hips between her knees. She dipped two fingers in the full wineglass and wiped them over the nipple of her left breast. She bent forward to push the nipple into Frank's greedy mouth.

"Suck that black tit, Frank, lover," Phyllis said.

Frank sucked on the nipple and then licked the flesh around it. "More," he said.

Phyllis dipped her fingers in the wine and smeared them across the nipple on her right breast. While Frank sucked, she reached down and began to finger the stiff rod that was near her cunt.

Frank had been sucking as contentedly as a baby before Phyllis began fingering his cock. He continued to suck on the nipple. As his prick responded to the black fingers stroking it, he murmured: "No finger-fucking, Niggerbaby."

"Niggerbaby wants to be fucked, lover," Phyllis said.

Frank pushed the nipple away. "Let's fuck now then," he said.

"Oh no we don't, lover!" Phyllis dipped her fingers in the wine and bathed her left nipple again. She pushed it into Frank's mouth and said: "You always suck just like an expert, Frank, so suck some more."

Frank gathered Phyllis's right breast in his large hand and squeezed it as he sucked on the other. He was a nipple sucker-a real titman who enjoyed this kind of "petting" before tackling the real thing.

"My baby is coming out, lover," Phyllis said, "so keep on that black tit." She began fingering the stiff cock again.

With the nipple in his mouth, Frank said words that were almost unintelligible. "Don't do that or you'll have me squirting my juice before I cock you!"

Phyllis again let go of the rod and drank some wine from the glass she had dipped her fingers into. She replaced the glass on the table and pulled her tit from Frank's mouth. "Put your arms around me, lover," she said.

When Frank's arms were around her waist Phyllis bent backward. She reached for the wineglass and quickly put it against her right breast. Frank watched until the glass stood bottom up on the black tit. He pulled the black body toward him and licked the trickle of wine that escaped.

Phyllis bent forward, removed the glass, and pushed the nipple in Frank's mouth. "Suck it, lover, you're making me feel so nice!"

Frank sucked the splendid-size nipple and licked the wine-wet flesh around it. "I can't take any more, Niggerbaby," he said. "I want to fuck!"

"Okay, loverboy," Phyllis said as she got off the chair. "Look me over and then we'll fuck."

And she had something to "look over"! Her voluptuous favors swung gently as she moved away from the lounge chair. Her small waist emphasized her buttocks which were handsome globes of black flesh. With meat on her thighs and shape on her calf's, her legs were comparable to those of any well-stacked white woman.

Phyllis turned slowly and moved that way toward Frank. She was a pretty girl with Nordic features rather than the Afro look of large nose and thick lips. In fact, if her flesh had been light instead of dark, she could have passed as a well-tanned beach beauty.

Now standing before Frank, she spread her legs and fingered open the lips on her black-haired cunt. "See my baby, lover," Phyllis said excitedly. "See my baby!"

What to a normal woman would be called a clitoris was to Phyllis her "baby." The thing stood out at a downward slant-all two inches of it!

Frank always became excited on viewing this sexual phenomenon. And he always said on seeing it: "That's the first and only prick I've ever seen on a woman!"

"It's my baby!" Phyllis said as she softly fingered it.

"If you want to jerk something off," Frank said, "jerk this off!"

Phyllis knelt down in front of Frank's chair and let the pads of her fingers caress the enormous tool.

Frank was extremely proud of his cock. It served in a way to compensate for his short stature. He was only five feet seven-two inches taller than his Niggerbaby's splendid display of black pulchritude.

Frank was like most old-fashioned Italian men. He would neither lick nor suck on a cunt, so he had no mouth interest in Phyllis's baby. Yet she had on many masturbating excursions imagined what it would be like to have her oversize clit in a man's mouth.

Frank pushed Phyllis away. "Enough!" he said. "Let's fuck before my juice hits the ceiling!"

Frank swallowed all the wine left in the glass into which Phyllis had dipped her fingers to wet her tits. He stood up and dropped his pants and shorts. His exposed flesh was covered with black hair. Without another word he lay down on the luxuriant carpet, ready now for his hard cock to enter the black cunt of his paramour.

He crossed his legs and said, "Niggerbaby, come to Frank."

Phyllis straddled Frank with her gold slippers on each side of his hips. The coarse hair on her belly was as straight as the hair on her head. It showed as a perfect triangle on her belly; strangely, however, it did not cover the black lips of her cunt but ended like a little beard in front of her clitoris.

Now hot and ready for Frank's shaft, Phyllis began the squat that would couple cock to cunt.

"Drop it down, Niggerbaby," Frank said. He put his hands behind his head and watched the engagement of sexual flesh.

Phyllis lowered herself slowly over Frank's prick until she could guide the head of it into her love nest.

"Now fuck me!" Frank commanded.

Phyllis, squatting over the man, moved her ass up and down in slow motion, savoring the way the head felt as she moved on it. With the rise in feeling, her nipples hardened and her baby stuck out rigidly from beneath the little beard.

Phyllis groaned with pleasure as Frank lay with his feet crossed and his hands behind his head. His eyes brightened as the splendid body worked to bring him the deep and utmost pleasure he could ever feel.

"Faster, Niggerbaby!" Frank said.

Without losing the hot prick in her red-lined hole Phyllis got down on her knees so more of Frank's cock could enter her.

"Oh!" she uttered as the prick went upward to tickle her uterus. She now moved her ass in quickened tempo.

Frank's face hardened as Phyllis's cunt began bringing pleasure to his small bag of balls. He reached out and grabbed her bouncing tits. He pulled on them very roughly.

"Oh!" Phyllis cried. "Frank!"

Frank continued to pull on the fine tits as Phyllis moved her glorious buttocks up and down while pronged on the long prick.

"Frank! Frank!" Phyllis uttered the words as if she were in danger. "Come! Come!"

Frank was now feeling physical joy as his hard cock was being caressed in the soft-lined pouch of the wet cunt. He said, "Not yet, baby. Not yet!"

"Come! Come! Frank!" Phyllis lowered her ass farther so more cock could play with her uterus.

"Turn!" Frank said. "Turn!"

Phyllis moaned. "Frank, Frank-I'm on my way up!"

"Turn, baby. Make it last!"

Phyllis rose off Frank's glazed prick. It was a sight to see as it stood straight up, the head of it a slick-coated red. She straddled him once more and lowered herself until her burning cunt became engaged to the illustrious shaft. Her twat was now amply moistened by its own lubricating oils and the king-size cock went easily into it.

"Now fuck it, Niggerbaby," Frank said. "Fuck it!"

Phyllis rode the rod in up-and-down movements with Frank holding onto her cheeky buttocks.

"Frank! Frank!" she cried joyously. "Come! Come!"

"Fuck, you black bitch," Frank said. "Make it last!"

Frank pulled on Phyllis's hips until his beautiful rod was clearly up her hole. He held on so she couldn't move. "Hold it, baby," he said. "I don't want to explode yet."

Phyllis wet the thumb and two fingers on her right hand. Holding the fingers together she let the moistened pads fuck her midget cock while Frank held her hips from moving.

Phyllis's nostrils expanded and contracted as she reached the peak of her own pleasure. As she peaked she cried out in pleasant agony: "Frank! Frank!" Her busy fingers continued fucking her tiny rod as Frank let go of her hips.

"Fuck!" he said. "Fuck, you black bitch!"

And Phyllis did. Her fingers continued working on her baby as her hips rotated enough to twist and strain the big cock in her red-walled hole.

"God damn me!" Frank yelled. His breathing began to whistle through his nose. "Niggerbaby!" was all he could say as his lustful cock shot its load up into the recesses of the moving sheath.

"Frank! Frank!" Phyllis said as a repeat performance made her little prick jerk up and down in her fingers, making her black body shudder with utmost delight.

All passion now spent on the best of all physical delights, Phyllis leaned back on top of Frank's body. Both lay there quietly as Frank molded her breasts with gentle hands. His cock softened, letting his juice ebb from Phyllis's sexual aperture. Her baby went back into its little fold of flesh. Soon each was in a dream world of soft fantasy.

Phyllis's eyes were closed as her reverie became a picture of a white head between her black thighs. The mouth was at work on her baby, sucking it as it had never been sucked before. The head belonged to someone young and fresh and eager to be there between her black legs. Someone who had grown up with the erotic revolution and had no hang-up about oral sex. That someone could be the young man she had seen with Conchi Thorne. Yes-he would be the ideal man to have between her shapely legs. When she saw him again she would pay more attention to his mouth.

Frank was dreaming too. His prick had slipped at last, sliding out of the cunt hole with the last of its come. It was in no form to do the work that was in Frank's dream. But dreams are made of desires and wishes. What he really needed was a fine woman he could respect. A woman he could marry. A woman who knew how to fuck. A woman who would always be ready for his prick. A woman with a warm and working cunt.

Frank's mind already pictured that woman. That special female who would bring him the pleasures of life. She was single. She was an intelligent person. She was more than well-stacked. This special dream had a body that exuded a sexual quality not too often seen on the street.

Frank rolled so Phyllis slid off his half-nude body. "That was great, Phyllis," he said. He slapped her buttocks before getting up to put on his shorts and slacks.

Phyllis stood up and a part of Frank's copious semen flowed down the inside of her left thigh. "I like it, Frank," she said. She kissed his cheek. "I'll be waiting for you again, soon."

Frank smiled. He and Phyllis did have a thing together. Yet he was slowly moving to the realization that a fifty-year-old man is better off with a loving and willing wife rather than a black friend who fucks well but isn't the real thing for a man's retirement.

Frank said good-bye to Phyllis and walked out the door. He felt the need for a little air and descended the exit stairs to the ground floor. He smiled as he saw Eno Yaw dozing in the elevator. He supposed that sleep was all an old man could enjoy-not realizing that Yaw was only as old as he was.

Frank crossed Classic Place and entered the park. He walked until he reached a bench that faced his building. He sat down and looked up to the sixth floor. All was dark in Apartment 6-B. One of his special dreams lived there.

Chapter 8

Friday night had been a big day in Keith Broy's life. He had worried from early morning about his meeting with Bettina Werp. He had practically dragged himself up the six flights of stairs to appear before the door of Apartment 6-C.

Now he waited there, screwing up enough courage to knock on the door. He wondered if he were going to make it at last; lose his virginity to the girl his aunt had found for him. The girl who was to become his sex educator.

Keith wiped sweat from his forehead, pocketed the handkerchief, and pushed the button that set the chimes to work.

The door opened and there she was, amply tittied, slim of waist, long-legged, and beautiful. Keith was instantly aware of his own shortness; his mouth came close to being on the same level as the girl's nipples!

All the girl wore was a turtlenecked one-piece body stocking in black. It served to highlight her pretty face and the shoulder-length hair that was somewhere between gold and copper in color.

"You're Keith," the girl said.

Her lips framed the most engaging smile Keith had ever seen. He couldn't get his own lips to release a word of acknowledgment.

"Come on in," the girl invited. "I'm Bettina. Tina if we become friends."

Keith stared at the sensual picture she made as she stood there in her black body stocking. The thrusting mounds of her firm breasts were molded by the thin material as the nipples pushed their own impression outward.

"Come in!" the girl repeated and turned to lead the way into her studio.

Keith felt his cock begin to show interest in what his eyes were looking at. The pretty swellings of flesh moved gently as the girl walked ahead of him.

The girl stopped suddenly and looked over her shoulder. "You can't talk but you can close a door."

"Oh!" Keith said. He felt embarrassment rise as he turned to shut the door. "I'm sorry."

"Think nothing of it." The girl had an effective smile. "You'll learn to do things, yes?"

"I'll sure try!" Keith followed the girl into the studio where she taught dancing. It was large and square with mirrors and dancer's bars on two of the walls. Comfortable chairs were placed in well-planned positions with little tables by their sides.

"Let me have your coat," the girl said.

Keith shrugged himself out of the light jacket he was wearing and handed it to Bettina Werp. A sigh escaped his lips. "I can't believe it," he said.

The girl walked to the entrance hall and hung Keith's jacket in a closet. "Sit down," she said on returning.

Keith sat in an easy chair upholstered in gold material. The girl sat down in the chair beside him and said, "You can't believe what?"

"That I'm alone in a room with a beautiful girl!" Some shyness had left Keith and he now felt a little off the timid side.

"Do you know why you're here?" the girl asked.

"My aunt said you would-"

"Open a class in sex education just for you!" The girl smiled. "Isn't that beautiful!"

"Great," Keith said. "Just great!"

"Conchi mentioned that you are shy," Bettina said. "I like that in a man. I never cared for the crude men who are always grabbing at me."

"I never had a girl," Keith said honestly.

"So we're even," Bettina said. "I've never had a virgin."

A bit of shyness returned to Keith. "I hope you'll like me," he said.

"Why not?" Bettina said. "Why not, indeed!"

"Girls just don't seem to care for me-well, not that way."

"Come on, Keith," Bettina said. "You're attractive and likable and I like a short man."

"You do?" Keith asked.

"Yes. I really do." Bettina smiled, "There are things to do that make a big man seem out of place-like licking a cunt when kneeling between a girl's legs."

Keith's face reddened and Bettina said, "Don't mind me, I say all the nasty words like cunt and prick and fuck-even shit when I have to."

Keith laughed as he relaxed a little because the girl had used the words. "I'll bet you're something," he said.

"You'd better believe it, Sonny. When sex rears its handsome head there's little Tina won't do."

"I feel better already," Keith said and smiled to show that he did.

"How old are you, Sonny-you don't mind me calling you Sonny?"

"No-call me anything-you're beautiful."

"Well thank you, Sonny. Wait until you see me with only my flesh on. You'll love me, really."

"Is your hair red-down there?" Keith asked, pointing a finger at Bettina's crotch. He reddened at his boldness.

"Don't be embarrassed, and yes, it is red; darker than the hair on my head, of course."

"I'll like it," Keith said.

"You'll lick it," Bettina promised.

"I'll like that too," Keith said.

"Now tell me how old you are."

"Eighteen."

"Do you go to school-but of course you do!"

"The University."

"A brain!" Bettina laughed.

Keith blushed. "Not really," he said. "If I had a brain I wouldn't be a virgin."

"Oh, but I'm glad you are! Can't you see the fun we are going to have together?"

"We are?" Keith said as if in a daze.

"Mercy, yes! With your little prick-it is little, isn't it?-and my happy cunt, what else?"

"It is little," Keith said and looked crestfallen as he imparted that news.

"Don't feel badly, Keith. I once went to bed with a football player whose cock wasn't any bigger than yours."

"Now I feel better," Keith admitted.

"Because you have a little prick or because I know it?" Bettina leaned forward and placed her hand on Keith's knee.

"Because you know it." Keith put his hand over Bettina's. "Makes me feel better."

"What about a drink?" Bettina asked.

"Dad lets me drink sherry. I like it."

"Sherry it is," Bettina said. She stood up to go for the wine. "Does your dad always tell you what to do?"

"Not really," Keith said. Bettina laughed. "What about fucking?"

"He's never said one word to me about sex-and he's a doctor!"

"There is a saying that doctors don't know much about the subject."

"I wouldn't know. Dad's so wrapped up in medicine he even smells antiseptic."

"Mercy-I'll get the wine."

Bettina went to the bar that hadn't been moved when the living room became a studio. She called across the room while pouring sherry into two glasses. "What kind of doctor?"

"He's a surgeon," Keith said proudly.

"How nice," Bettina said, returning with the wine. She handed a glass to Keith and sat down. "Now let's talk about us. Do you use dirty words?"

"Not often," Keith said.

"Say one," Bettina ordered. She sipped her wine as Keith hesitated. "Oh, come on, Keith, a dirty word won't hurt you. If we are to go into sex you must lose your inhibitions."

"I'm sorry," Keith said. "I just can't seem to adjust."

"Do you want to call this off?"

"No!" Keith said.

"Then say a dirty word."

"Cunt," Keith said shyly.

"Now that wasn't hard, was it?" Bettina smiled prettily. "Say another."

"Fuck," Keith said, not so shyly.

"See, you're getting it. Would you like to fuck me?"

Keith blushed. "My insides are turning over!"

"Mercy, you little lamb!" Bettina sipped wine and looked at her pupil. "I've been thinking about you since Conchi mentioned your problem, and I've decided to make you crawl for a piece. It will be awhile before I let you fuck me, Sonny. There are other things for you to learn before you stick your prick into my fine cunt. Understand?"

All during the talking Keith's eyes were on his teacher-to-be's body. "I'll do anything you ask!"

Bettina laughed. "That is how I planned it. You are to do whatever I ask. No questions-just do as I ask. Understand?"

"I do," Keith said. He swallowed some wine. "Anything you ask-Tina."

"Fine." Bettina finished her wine and Keith gulped down the rest of his. She stood up and said, "Come with me."

Keith followed Bettina into her bedroom; and from there into the bathroom.

The bathroom contained a separate tub and shower. A couch with a sunlamp overhead. A toilet and a bidet side by side. And a long table with a sink on one end and a cosmetic layout on the other.

In the center of the table was a pile of pantyhose, bras, little half-slips, and lacy panties. It was indeed a soft and colorful pile of cock-raising material.

Keith sat down on the couch and Bettina said, "I was about to wash my undies when you knocked on the door." She set the stopper and ran warm water into the sink. "Have you ever felt a girl's underthings?" she asked.

"No. Not ever," Keith answered.

"Come here then," Bettina said.

Keith left the couch to stand before the little pile of goodies. With shaking hands he felt the flimsy material.

"Don't they feel nice?" Bettina asked. She sat down in the chair before her makeup mirror. "Smell them. Smell the crotch piece on the pantyhose. See if you like me-I mean smell if you like me!"

Keith held the crotch piece to his nose. He inhaled the faint odor of womanhood; it was pure perfume and she-scent. He liked it so much his little prick fattened up for the second time since he had entered the apartment.

Bettina said, "Close your eyes and snuggle your nose in it. Tell me what you are thinking."

Keith's thoughts were like shadows: He imagined this gorgeous redhead spread-eagled nude on a bed, her body writhing and twisting under his intimate caresses, her big tits ready for his hot hands. He could see himself forcing her sensual thighs farther apart and coming down hard on her bare belly, his stiff prick prodding the entrance to her love nest!

"I'm fucking you," he said, continuing to inhale the odor on the crotch piece of the pantyhose.

"Lick it," Bettina ordered.

Keith stretched the crotch piece and licked it.

"Good," Bettina said. "I can almost feel your tongue on my pussy, but it's too early for that pleasure now."

Keith reached down to adjust his fattened cock. Bettina saw the move and said, "If your little prick is uncomfortable take it out-let me see what you have to give me."

Keith placed the pantyhose on the pile of dainties and unzipped his fly. He reached inside his shorts and pulled out his prick.

"Mercy!" Bettina said, clapping her hands. "What a baby that is-and a belly hugger. I like that kind."

Despite his blushing, Keith said, "Can't we fuck now?"

"No!" Bettina said severely. "You do as I tell you or we don't do anything at all. Understand?"

"Yes," Keith said humbly. "I'm sorry."

"Remember that!"

"I will," Keith said. His cock was standing up straight against his slacks like a hook of stuffed flesh.

Bettina said, "Take my panties one at a time and place the crotch piece over your cute prick."

Keith draped the soft things over his short stout rod. There were five of them-two of them black and lacy.

"Now place the pantyhose over your prick," Bettina ordered as she watched with pleasure as Keith did as he was told.

"Now you can be my maid," Bettina said. "Wash the slips."

Keith obeyed. He had watched his mother soak her stockings in the lavatory at home. He did the same with Bettina's little slips. He washed and rinsed them and placed them on the table by the sink.

"Now wash my pantyhose."

Keith took the pantyhose off his prick and washed them as he had washed the slips.

"Now the panties."

After all the enchanting things were washed and rinsed Bettina instructed Keith how to use a small portable dryer which she had taken from the cabinet under the table. In following her orders Keith's cock had begun to sag a little.

Bettina returned to the vanity chair to watch Keith handle her undies. When they were all in and drying, she said, "Now take your clothes off, Sonny. I want to see what you look like-all bare-assed and ready for play."

Keith stripped and stood before his teacher in all his naked glory. Despite his short stature he was a handsome boy with a fine body.

"Mercy! Mercy!" Bettina exclaimed. "You are a nice boy, Sonny-do you want to become my pet?"

"Yes." Keith's cock had lost its erection as he felt some embarrassment in front of Bettina. "Then get down on your hands and knees and he my doggie-and don't talk."

Keith nodded and went down on his hands and knees.

"Listen to me and do what you are told. Understand?"

Keith nodded again. He looked at Bettina who now sat on the edge of the vanity chair with her long legs spread apart. Her cunt lips were high and thick and the material of the body stocking outlined the adorable cunt as well as it did the ample breasts. Keith's eyes had been on it ever since he had first noticed the cunt so well displayed by the stretchable fabric.

Bettina said, "Come to me, my pet. Sniff around my red-haired cunt like a good doggie."

Keith's cock was on the rise again. He moved on hands and knees until his head was between Bettina's thighs. He sniffed at the cloth that covered her twat until she pushed his head away.

Bettina reached behind her and managed to move the torso-long zipper on her body stocking. She pulled her arms from the sleeves and uncovered her breasts. "Aren't they nice?" she asked.

Keith nodded in agreement, remembering not to talk. His cock stiffened more as he looked at the delectable mounds above him.

"Kiss the nipples like a good doggie," Bettina said.

Keith raised himself and kissed each red nub on its circle of pink.

Bettina pushed Keith's head away. "Sniff my pussy some more," she ordered as she separated her legs still farther. "And do some licking this time, pet. Let me see what the real thing will be like."

Keith sniffed and licked the material that covered the cunt.

"You'll learn, my pet," Bettina said. She pushed Keith's head away again and stood up, saying, "Now to the real thing."

Slowly Bettina moved the body stocking off her hips and down her legs. She sat down and thrust her legs at Keith. "Take it off!" she commanded.

Keith pulled the body stocking from Bettina's shapely legs and feet, making her all bare. She turned slowly, "How do you like me?" she asked.

Keith was still doggie. He didn't say a word, but his cock expanded a little more and moved closer to his belly.

"Good doggie," Bettina said. She got down on her hands and knees so her well-rounded buttocks were facing Keith's avid gaze.

"Now lick my ass," she said simply.

Keith, without hesitation, licked the valley between Tina's healthy buttocks. And the way she was sexually stacked (her lush lips were like two thick slices of peach between her thighs), Keith could not help but lick her cunt.

"My ass!" Bettina rolled her hips to get Keith's mouth away from the tidbit she wanted to reserve for later. "I said lick my ass!"

After the scolding Keith concentrated on the little puckered hole; it was brown and hairless. He licked and licked and licked.

"Nice doggie," Bettina said. "I really like that-feels so good."

Keith licked some more before Bettina started for the bedroom on her hands and knees. Keith followed her and when she paused for a second he licked the little brown spot until she moved on again. By the time they reached the studio, saliva was dripping down between the red-haired lips of her twat!

Bettina moved toward a wall mirror and stopped. She watched in the glass as Keith's tongue licked at her ass. "Have you ever seen a girl's cunt up close?" she asked.

Keith didn't answer. He looked in the mirror at Bettina.

"No more doggie, Sonny." Bettina stood up. "Kneel where you are and I'll treat you to a look at mine."

Bettina hooked her right leg over Keith's left shoulder so the calf of it was against his back. The sweet cunt was now as close as a pair of glasses to a pair of eyes.

"Feast your eyes on it, but don't touch it," Bettina said.

And Keith's eyes devoured the cunt that was within touching distance of his left cheek. It was a pretty cunt indeed. Copper-colored hair framed the pouting lips, and the lips were slightly parted, the inside a moistened pink.

"Have you ever licked a cunt before?" Bettina asked.

"Never," Keith said. His cock was now blood-filled to a working hardness as he looked intently at the wonderful sight of Tina's sexual playground.

"Kiss it," Bettina said softly.

Keith pressed his wet lips against the lips of Bettina's twat. His tongue slid out, tasting the moistened flesh.

"No!" Bettina said. She moved her leg off Keith's shoulder and backed away. "Slow down, Sonny. We have plenty of time."

Keith looked disappointed. Bettina said, "Some men like to see what a girl's cunt looks like in different positions. Would you?"

"Please!" Keith said. "I'm going to burst!"

Bettina patted Keith's head. "Whatever position I get into you lick my cunt until I tell you to stop. Understand?"

"Yes." Keith's eyes were bright and his tongue was ready for the treat to come. At least I'll lick a cunt, he thought.

Bettina put her right hand on the dancer's bar and raised her left leg until it was close to her head. She held it there while Keith knelt to lick the red-haired twat. The raised leg had stretched the right lip, parting it from its mate so the pink meat inside was ready to be tongue-washed. It was a gourmet meal and a voluptuous sight. It was heaven to Keith as his tongue went forth to taste the sexual food that can be life to the senses.

"Stop!" Bettina said.

Keith stopped with reluctance. He planted a firm kiss on the wet twat.

"Lie down on your back," Bettina instructed. Keith stretched out on the polished floor and with a graceful movement Bettina did a split so her cunt was resting on Keith's lips. He now tongued the precious twat with a show of relish that amazed Tina.

"Remember, Sonny," she said, liking the feel of the tongue on her cunt hole, "the modern girl would rather be licked than fucked."

From the split, which Bettina couldn't hold too long, she went into the back bend that found her body supported on her legs and hands. Keith went between the spread legs and licked the rich show of flesh as if he could never get enough of it.

Bettina said in a raised voice, "Stop!"

Now the tonguing her cunt was getting from this virgin boy was sending delicious feelings throughout her body. Going" from the back bend into a handstand she spread her shapely legs until she could have been taken for the letter T.

There was no talking as Keith stood in front of Tina. He bent over so he could lick the enchanting lips that were now wide open to his lustful tongue.

"Put your arms around me and lick!" Bettina cried.

Keith worked on the pretty snatch until his victim was moaning in delirious joy.

"Lick it!" she cried again.

Saliva poured from Keith's mouth as his tongue washed the hairy lips of Bettina's marvelous pecker valley.

"Lick it! Lick it!" The cry put more action into Keith's already mobile tongue. And the elating and excruciating excitement of what he was at last doing to a girl's cunt caused his balls to send little shivers of pleasure up his stiff shaft.

"Lick it!" Bettina yelled as best she could in her upside down position. "Lick it! Lick it, for God's sake!"

Now greatly excited by her entreaties to lick her twat, as well as by the wonderful feeling that was creeping up his shaft, Keith raised his hands up over the buttocks and pulled Tina's cunt as far open as he could. He placed the flat of his hot tongue on the pink membrane between the lips and in fast action slid it over the surface. He stopped only to try getting his tongue into the vaginal opening.

Keith was now so sensually stimulated, so increased in sex-born strength, that he raised Bettina's body up so he could feast on it without bending. Her red pubic hair was now high on his chest as he glued his mouth to the little bud that had come from its hiding place. He sucked it for only moments before changing to lick every crevice on the upturned twat. And as he progressed in his first whack at cunt-sucking labor he became almost fanatical in his desire to eat the delicacy in reality.

Keith continued to lick and suck until the cunt became beet-red, causing its owner to moan in passionate pleasure.

Thus was Bettina, the sex educator of a virgin man, hanging upside down crying, "Eat it! Eat it!" as her orgasm came in a shattering frenzy. As the mad contractions took over her body, she was able to press her hands against the floor and squeeze her legs together until she had Keith's head imprisoned between her long thighs.

And Keith was still licking the twat furiously when his prick shot its load against both bodies. It was as if he were unaware of his ejaculation, for his tongue worked harder as the come from his prick ran down into the valley of Bettina's lavish breasts.

"Enough!" Tina cried as Keith's tongue continued to tickle the little clit until it couldn't stop twitching. "Stop! For God's sake-stop!" Tina pleaded.

At last, as his prick relaxed and his come dripped onto the shiny floor, Keith sheathed his tongue and let go of the body he had pleasured beyond gratification.

"Mercy," Bettina said as the last of her orgasms ebbed. She released Keith's head from between her thighs and flipped to a standing position. "Mercy, mercy," she exclaimed, "I thought you said you never tongued a woman's cunt before?"

Keith looked down at his cock and at the drops of come on the floor. "I never did, Tina. Really."

"Well, Sonny, you sure licked me like a professional that time!"

"I couldn't stop," Keith said. "It was terrific!"

"It sure was," Bettina said.

"What do we do now?" Keith asked.

Bettina looked over at the clock on the back bar. "Mercy," she said, "it's ten-thirty already!"

"Tina," Keith said quietly, "do I get to fuck you?"

"You just shot your load on my belly. Look, Sonny, your come went down between my breasts -you made them messy."

"I'll wash them for you," Keith said.

"No you won't. I'll take a shower."

"Well do I get to fuck you?" Keith asked again.

"Sorry, Sonny," Bettina said. "We played pretty and I more than enjoyed it, but once a night is my limit. Suppose you wait until next Friday, then we can get down to the nitty-gritty. Okay?"

"I'd like to fuck you, Tina, now." The words were said quietly.

"Don't be difficult, Keith. I don't like that in a man. If you want to screw me you will have to wait until next Friday."

"Damnit!" Keith exclaimed. "Can't you take pity on me now? Look-my prick is getting hard!"

"Take it home with you, Sonny. Jerk it off and dream about me,"

"Damn!" Keith said, sounding like a kid who always gets his way.

When Keith dressed, Bettina walked him to the closet where his jacket hung. "I'm sorry, Tina. I never licked a cunt and I never fucked a girl-gets me uptight."

"What gets you uptight?"

"Not fucking!"

"Mercy, you poor boy!" Bettina said, patting Keith's cheek. "All week you can think about Friday. Friday and fucking."

"Friday. Friday, Friday," Keith repeated.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," Bettina said.

They both laughed and Bettina said, "You're a good student, Keith, but you must promise me you won't do too much homework on your little pecker. I want it to be very much alive next Friday."

"Don't worry about that. It will be stiff all week," Keith promised, and he meant it.

He reached up to kiss Bettina's soft cheek. "Be good," she said and opened the door. "Now you must scoot."

"Ciao!" Keith said.

He skipped down the six flights of stairs as happy as a hairless cunt being bathed by an old man's mobile mouth. And all the way home his refrain went through his mind: Fuck Friday. Fuck Friday. Fuck Friday.

Chapter 9

Eno Yaw woke up with a powerful erection. It wasn't a piss-hard but a genuine, number-one stiffened cock that was all set to poke its head into the hairless cunt of a real teeny-bopper. It had grown hard in a dream that Eno was having before he came awake enough to realize that this was S-and-F Day!

Eno sat up in bed and yawned. He rubbed his eyes and was suddenly alerted to the fact that his little visitor was to call on him at ten-thirty. He left the bed for the bath where he shit, showered, and shaved in honor of his small friend.

He became nervous as he fumbled in the dresser for shorts, shirt, and socks. He pulled on his slacks and thought of what he was going to do. He suffered the fear of being caught. He silently fought with his conscience, but to no avail.

So she is jailbait, trouble; and he would be all set up to become the victim of a blackmailer. So what? So send her away-quickly!

But the fantasies he had played with for so long were too powerful to overcome by reason. He was going to suck and fuck the little blonde cookie girl who would soon knock on his door.

Eno made coffee first and the bed second. In fact he left the convertible couch open so it would be ready for his company.

He was drinking 'coffee when the knock came on the door. He almost jumped out of his slacks in nervous reaction. But he collected his wits and rushed to the door. He didn't want anyone to see her standing in the hallway.

The girl looked Eno straight in the eyes as he sucked in a large quantity of air. "Here I am," she said.

Eno's guts compressed as the air from his lungs released in a loud whewing sound. "Yes, yes, come in!" he said.

When the girl was inside the door Eno closed it quickly and locked it. Leaning against it he took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped sweat from his brow.

"What's the matter, pops," she asked, "you nervous?"

"Sure am, missy." Eno looked at his little prize.

The girl wore a white blouse, white shorts, and plain white sneakers. A handbag of finely tooled leather hung from her right shoulder. Her golden hair was parted in the middle and hung down below her shoulder blades in back, and to her orange-size breasts in front. The hair was thick and shiny and framed her softly rounded face to perfection.

The girl had watched Eno take inventory of her assets. Her blue eyes shone with amusement as she said, "Well, pops, will I do?"

"Do, missy!" Eno said. "You're just the most girl I ever seen!"

"Then I'll do?" she asked in a silky voice.

Eno sighed. "It'd be a pity to put Yam in that little body."

"Yam?" she questioned.

"Yam's my thing," Eno said.

"Oh? So you have a name for your prick." The girl walked to the table and sat down, "How's for coffee, pops?"

"Yeah," Eno said as he walked to the electric pot to pour coffee. "Me and Yam's been around a long time, missy-what's your name?"

Eno placed the cup of coffee before his little guest and pushed the carton of milk and the bowl of sugar toward her. He sat down as the girl spoke.

"Name's Joyce Craigh, pops." The girl poured milk and spooned sugar into her coffee cup. "How do you want Joyce?" she asked.

Eno choked on some spittle before he could speak. "You knock me for a loop, missy."

"Do I really send you, pops?"

"Wait a minute," Eno said. "I got to have a drink because you're too much more than I dreamed of."

Eno went to the sideboard that was against the wall by the door. He poured a shot of whiskey and downed it neatly.

"Steady, pops," the girl cautioned. "You can't fuck good with alcohol in your belly."

Eno returned to the table and sat down. "Can't help it, missy. Ain't had a little girl like you before. Scares me!"

"Don't worry, pops." The girl sipped her coffee. "I know the score. I played with my cunt before I was ten and had it licked before I was eleven!"

"You don't say!" Eno was flushed with eagerness. "Kid lick you?"

"Kids I know only think of fucking," Joyce said. "An old man licked it, pops, and I liked it. He gave me five dollars and a pat on the ass and I never saw him again."

Eno went to the sideboard for another shot. "Any other old man lick your slit, missy?"

The girl finished her coffee. "Pops, I'm making money on old bastards who want to suck or fuck me."

Eno downed the whiskey and said, "Can't see that I blame them any, missy; what you got is real young cunt."

"Want me to take off my shorts, pops?" the girl asked.

"Sure do!" Eno returned to the table and sat down.

The girl held out her hand. "Give, pops," she said.

"You won't take the money and skip?" Eno asked.

The girl stood up and said, "Pops, I like to be eaten out till I can't stand it more. Dig?"

"Okay, missy." Eno went to the dresser and returned with money. He counted out fifty dollars and handed the bills to Joyce.

The girl folded the money and stuffed it into her leather handbag which she threw on the bed. She reached to her side where she unzipped the shorts and let them fall to the floor. Turning slowly so her back was to Eno she stepped out of them and picked them up without bending her knees. She threw the shorts on the bed with her handbag.

She was thin-assed and beautiful to Eno's lusting eyes. He stared at what his fifty dollars was buying and what he saw was causing his cock to move.

Joyce turned and Eno saw his very first hairless cunt. It was a beauty. The slit came high on the girl's belly and was as free of hair as a green banana.

"How do you like it, pops?" Joyce asked proudly as she pushed her belly forward.

Eno's tongue almost crossed the room to slurp at the hairless slit. "Damned if it ain't the prettiest thing my old eyes have seen, missy!"

Joyce backed to the bed and sat down. "Come here, pops," she said. "Come see my pretty thing up close."

Eno went to the bed and stared at the twat.

"Kneel down, pops-you can't lick it from up there."

Eno knelt. "Can't see more than a slit with your legs closed, missy."

The girl lay back on the bed and raised her legs. She parted them. "Isn't it sweet, pops?" she asked.

Eno was fascinated. "It sure is a piece You'll like, missy."

The girl sat up. "Let me see Yam, pops."

Yam was already ready for some love-making in the baby slit. Eno pulled him out. The slender nine inches of hard flesh was a sight to see.

"It's terrific, pops!" Joyce exclaimed. "I never saw a cock like it." She reached out to touch it and fingered the magnificent rod. "That's cool, man-but I can't take that in my pretty slit!"

"Don't aim to hurt you, missy," Eno said. "Take what you can and You'll be happy."

"Want me to take off my blouse, pops?" the girl asked as she released the cock.

"Ain't no titty-sucker, missy," Eno said, still on his knees in adoration of the hairless slit. "I like cunt."

"You eat cunt, pops, just like old men do; and you'd fuck a baby if you could get away with it!" Joyce laughed as she watched Eno's face redden.

"Not me, missy."

Joyce laughed again. "You're just like the rest, mister, that's why I keep my cunt shaved like a baby's-to make you old bastards happy."

Eno was very pleased with the cunt. He didn't care if the hair was shaved off as long as there wasn't a strand of it.

The girl stood up. "Give a little kiss, pops."

Joyce pushed her belly out and Eno kissed the cunt with his wet lips. He was now in heaven.

"Just tongue it a few times, pops," the girl ordered.

Eno slid his tongue up the slit; it tasted tangy from a slight cover of piss.

After a couple of passes the girl backed off and sat down on the bed. She pushed her sneakers off with her toes and said, "You really want me, don't you, pops?"

"Sure do, missy," Eno agreed. "Paid good money for your cunt."

"You'd do anything to get my cunt, wouldn't you?" the girl asked.

Eno didn't say a word. He moved closer on his knees to the bed where the girl was sitting. He eyed the little slit that was so high on her belly. It set so high he figured he could lick it even if she kept her thighs together. His tongue became as greedy as his eyes. "Let me lick it, missy," he begged.

Joyce lay back with her legs spread and her eyes closed. The little lips stayed in loving touch with each other. Eno began licking the little prize by running his eager tongue up and down the slit. The whole thing was priceless to him: the flesh was soft and tasteful and he lusted in the sensation it caused. He stopped only to ask a question, "How old you say you be, missy?"

"Almost fifteen, pops," Joyce said. Her fourteenth birthday had been in March-and outside the building the April day was as fascinating as her little slit.

"I like 'me young," Eno said. "Lick."

Eno returned to the wonderful task of licking the twat but his thoughts were on the fact that he was on his way to fucking a real live teeny-bopper who had the sweetest cunt he had ever placed his lips against.

"Like it, pops?" the girl asked. She stretched her small body as tiny pricks of sensation began to be felt.

"Sure do," Eno said as he continued to swab the deck of the pretty-pretty.

"Like to really lick it, pops, so you can get a Teal taste of me?" Joyce asked as she sat up.

"Sure do," Eno said again. But when he bent forward to continue his worship of Venus the girl placed a bare foot against Eno's forehead.

"Not just yet, pops. I want to work you up a bit."

"Don't need working up," Eno protested. "Yam's ready already!"

Joyce placed her small foot against Eno's mouth. "Lick my toes," she said.

"Come on, missy," Eno protested again. "I paid for cunt not feet."

"Lick!" the girl commanded. "If you want my cunt you'll do as I say. Pops, you don't want trouble?"

That was something Eno didn't need. "Course not, missy. But I want cunt, not toes!"

"Do as you are told, old man, or you'll get all the damn t-r-o-u-b-l-e you don't want."

Joyce's foot was short, narrow, and clean. Eno licked the toes on her left foot.

Joyce lay back as relaxed as a kitten taking a snooze. "Lick between them!" she instructed.

After a while Eno liked the way Joyce's toes felt as he licked them. Without any urging he stretched his mouth so he could get all the little toes in it at once. He tongued them until the girl said, "Now do the other foot, pops."

Eno changed feet and licked toes again. After a while Joyce said, "You make me feel so good, pops, I have to pee."

Eno took the cute toes from his mouth and placed Joyce's foot on the floor. "Toilet's over there," he said, pointing to a closed door.

Joyce stretched like a kitten and sat up on the bed. "No, pops," she said. "You're the toilet!"

Eno was astounded. "What?" he said.

The girl's voice was a silky sound in the room. "I want to pee on you,"

"Piss on me?" Eno said. "That ain't what my fifty bucks says!"

"No?" The girl laughed at the way Eno sputtered. "It's what I say and I'm going to piss on you, take it or leave it!"

"How you gonna piss on me?" Eno asked.

"I'm going to wash your handsome face, pops. That's how."

"Ain't never been pissed on!"

"Okay, pops," Joyce said. She reached for her shorts.

"Wait! Wait!" Eno said.

"Wait for what, pops?"

"Damn it, missy. I ain't never been pissed on before!"

"So what? Have you ever had a fourteen-year-old girl before? Have you?"

"No, missy." Eno was sweating again. The sweat beaded his forehead and upper lips. "But you can't piss on my floor either!"

"Then get some towels, pop. Lots of towels because I piss like a steer."

Eno got to his feet and went for towels. When he returned Joyce had him spread the towels on the floor. "Take your shirt off too," she said. "And get that thing back in your pants. It makes me nervous."

Eno pushed the sturdy cock back into his slacks. He took off his shirt.

"Lie down, pops," Joyce commanded.

Eno lay down on the rug with his head on the toweling. "Now what?" he asked.

Joyce didn't answer. She walked to Eno and placed a small foot on each side of his head. Her heels were against his shoulders.

"Watch carefully, pops, so you can see my pretty slit."

Eno's brown eyes sparkled with anticipation. Yam was straining in his pants, seeming to become larger as Eno's eyes devoured the teeny-bopper's small cunt.

"Yam's real ready, missy," Eno said.

"Never mind Yam, pops. Watch my little slit so you'll see the pee pour out."

"You piss on any other man?" Eno asked.

"Old men like to be pissed on." Joyce slowly squatted down until her cunt was only a fraction of distance from Eno's chin. She reached under her buttocks and pulled the darling slit apart. "Like it, pops?" she asked.

"Ain't never seen anything better!"

Joyce laughed. She lowered her bottom until her cunt touched Eno's nose. "Smell it, pops."

Eno sniffed at the joy box. "Damned if it ain't the best smelling thing I ever smelled!" Eno was now more than enjoying himself. He was in a sensual paradise that made him feel good all over. He was in the mood now to endure a piss-bath.

Joyce raised herself slightly; just enough so Eno could see her cunt in its entrancing nudity. "Finger it, pops," she said. "Stick your finger up the hole!"

Eno was now in a state of utter elation. Here he was at last, realizing his fondest dream of feeling the cunt of a real live teeny-bopper. What more bliss could a dirty old man ask for? He stuck his thumb up the moist hole at the same time Joyce began urinating!

"Damn!" The word exploded from Eno's mouth as the deluge of piss caught him off guard. But he kept his thumb up the hole and was amazed by what he saw through the urine that had sprayed his eyes.

The force of the stream was coming from a little opening ahead of his thumb! It was gushing out and spattering his face. He felt the warm piss on his eyes, his nose, his cheeks. It stunned him for only a couple of seconds until a most pleasant feeling embraced him. He pulled his thumb from the hole and pulled Joyce's hips down until his mouth covered the meatus from which the urine was pouring. He drank the warm piss with more gusto than he ever drank a glass of beer!

"Oh, that's wild, pops!" Joyce said. "You're eating my piss!"

Joyce kept her cunt over Eno's mouth until the last drop of urine tickled down Eno's happy throat. Then she moved it back and forth so Eno's nose was in the little slit. "Did you like it, pops?" she asked as she raised her little behind.

Eno was hot. His Yam was almost ready to spray its own juice into his shorts. "Yam's ready now, missy," he said. "Can't wait to get Yam into your cunt!"

Joyce stood up. "Lie still!" she said. She turned so she was facing Eno's feet. Kneeling down she unzipped the fly on his slacks and felt around inside for the cock that was there, straining for its freedom. She pulled Yam out and held onto him. "It's a terrific prick for an old man to have, pops-long but not thick."

Joyce ran her hand up and down the slender shaft. "I don't think my poor little hole will take it, pops." She squeezed the head.

"Damn it, missy!" Eno objected. "I'm fifty years old and if you don't stop jerking Yam off I wont be able to shove him up your hole!"

"What a shame that would be, pops. My poor little hole has never had a long cock in it!" Joyce stood up and Eno pushed himself from the carpet.

"Wait!" Joyce said.

"Wait hell! I want to fuck you-now!"

"Do what I say; put your head down."

Eno lay back. "What foolishness you thinking now?" he asked.

"I'm going to sit on you, pops. I'm going to make your prick enter my pretty slit. Maybe I can take it all, and maybe I can't. We'll see."

Eno relaxed. "Good girl!" he said. "I ain't never had a straddle fuck before." He pulled the piss-soaked towels from under his head.

"I've sat on a few cocks," Joyce admitted, "but never on one as long as yours."

Eno watched in fascination as Joyce moved so her feet were by his right hip. She faced him and stepped so she was astride his body. "Hold your cock steady, pops,*' she said, "so I can steer my pretty slit over the big thing."

Eno circled Yam with his hand and held the cock so it was straight up, pointing at the little cunt that would descend upon it.

Joyce squatted, moving so the hole of her cunt was matched to the head of the prick. She reached under her to part the thin lips of her slit. With slow, slow movement she engaged the head of the prick with the entrance to her youthful vagina. Now with a steady pressure she forced the head into her cunt.

"Oh, man," she said joyfully. "Your cock will kill me, pops!"

"Down, missy, down! Get down before Yam blows his stack!" Eno clasped his hands behind his head and raised it so he could watch the cute little twat eat up his turgid Yam.

Joyce eased herself down and Yam went straight up her cunt until he was more than halfway in.

"My God, pops," she yelled, "that thing is breaking my cunt!"

"Easy, girl," Eno warned. "Don't want anyone to hear you or I'll be up shit creek!"

"Oh, man," Joyce said softly. "This cock is something else!" She pushed down so the entire shaft of Eno's prick was deep in her hole. She held herself motionless, enjoying the long-size prick to its fullest length. "Man-I took it all!" she said gloatingly. And then proudly added, "Ain't my cunt something, pops?"

"You sure you ain't an old whore in disguise?" Eno laughed.

"With a little slit like mine?"

"Fuck, girl, fuck!" Eno said. "I'm going to shoot my load so it comes right out your mouth!"

"Pops-you have to eat me now or when you shoot your load."

"Christ, girl, wiggle your ass!" Eno said. "Eat me now or later!" Joyce said. "Later-fuck now!" Eno cried as the urge to feel the highest pleasure hit him.

Joyce at last moved her hips slowly: up-down-up-down-up-down and then in short circular movements. "Oh, pops," she exclaimed excitedly, "this is going to be the very best fuck I've ever had!"

Eno moaned loudly. His large bag of balls was getting ready to send his semen up the vesicles to Yam's head.

Up, down, and around, and the load shot up into Joyce's vaginal passage. "Yam, baby!" Eno shouted as the contractions moved his cock deep in the heart of cuntland.

"Man oh man!" Joyce cried. "That hot juice is sending me!" She wiggled her ass and pumped up and down only seconds more before the thrill of her own orgasm sent her in spasms onto Eno's chest.

Five minutes later she raised herself up on her hands and looked at the still heavily breathing Eno. "You ready to eat me, pops?" she asked. Eno, now all spent with a flaccid Yam emerging from the hairless cunt, said, "Can't we wait a bit, missy?"

"You want trouble, pops?"

"Course not, missy, but I'm tired now. Shot my load and need resting."

Joyce stood up. "Come on, pops. You can lick your come outa my cunt." She walked to the bed, sat down and raised her parted legs. Eno's come was oozing from her hole.

With reluctance Eno got to his knees and moved to the bed where the little angel sat. He had no desire for the hairless cunt now. "Can't I wipe it off?" he asked.

"And spoil my fun, pops?" the girl said. "Eat me and eat come at the same time."

Eno bent forward to do his job.

"Tell my cunt you love it," the girl ordered.

"I love you," Eno said halfheartedly.

"Now kiss it like you do love it," Joyce said.

Eno went to work and was soon taken up with the taste of his own come, hot flesh, and the girl's own moisture.

"I can have an orgasm one, two, three times, pops; one after the other when an old man eats me out."

Eno grunted-and licked. "I feel it all over-my nipples get hard-so lick, pops, lick!"

Eno licked and it didn't take long to make Joyce bubble over with the joy of sexual sensations. The orgasms hit her like she said-one, two, three-as Eno went feverishly to work on the hairless slit.

Joyce threw her legs straight out as spasms went through her thighs, legs, and feet. Her whole body seemed to convulse as the paroxysms continued to possess her as Eno sipped at the fountain of love.

Suddenly Eno stopped licking the slit and stood up. Quickly he dropped his slacks and shorts and covered the teeny-bopper's raging body as he sent Yam up the moist hole. He slapped it in and pulled it out as fast as he could move his ass.

"Oh, joy!" the girl said. "Oh, joy!" She placed her arms around Eno's back and clasped her legs over his waist as her spasms of pleasure reached a sexual peak. "No more, pops," she begged. "No more!"

Eno was deaf. He rammed Yam in and out until the long cock sent another load of semen into the perky hole, flooding it.

"Yam, baby!" Eno shouted and collapsed on the little body under him.

Both the fuckers were now tightly spent and neither moved for a good five minutes of time. At last the girl said, "Get off me, pops. I gotta wash and get on home."

Eno rolled off the girl. "Yam was real good today, missy. Never thought he was slick enough to do it twice-like he did."

"Don't fool yourself, pop. It was my cunt made him do it,"

"You betcha, missy," Eno said. "When you coming again?"

"Cost you more next time, pops." The girl gathered her shorts and sneakers and left for the bathroom. When she returned she was dressed and ready to leave.

"What more?" Eno asked. The girl laughed her pleasant silky laugh. "Seventy-five the next time, pops."

"Damn it!" Eno said. He sat on the bed with his slacks and shorts around his feet. "Where the hell do you think I get the money?"

"I don't care, pops," Joyce said. She reached for her handbag. "I'll come by next Saturday morning. If you have the bread you can eat cunt-and fuck it too. But if you don't have it I can always make trouble. T-r-o-u-b-l-e, pops. Dig?"

"Missy, I sure enjoyed your little cunt," Eno said. The word trouble would forever lay like a threat on his conscience. "I'll get the money somewhere."

"Oh, pops," the girl threw her arms around Eno and kissed him. "You must have lots of bread in the bank-and I'm worth it!"

"I'll get the money," Eno repeated.

"Great, pops!" The girl bent over to kiss Eno's sweating forehead. "Maybe next time we'll play around a little more. Maybe I'll let you kiss my ass a little. A boy once licked it and I liked it."

"Hold it!" Eno roared, not concerned now with the noise or if anybody outside the door could hear it. "I ain't a asslicker!"

"You will be or t-r-o-u-b-l-e."

"I'll do it so I can get Yam up your cunt again!"

"Terrific, pops. You can lick it like the boy did."

"You're the boss, missy."

"Thanks, pops, for the money and that yard of prick. Gotta go now."

At the door Joyce turned to look at Eno. "That is some cock you have, pops. I'll be dreaming about it until Saturday."

"Take care, missy," Eno said.

"Right on, pops," the girl said and was gone.

Eno sighed and cupped Yam in his fist. "Ain't it been just the greatest day in your life?" he asked the prick.

And if the prick could have answered it would have said: Now you're a full-fledged, honey-fucking, dirty old man-and that was the best cunt you ever stuck me in!

Eno would have agreed, one hundred percent.

Chapter 10

On Friday night Keith Broys licked his first cunt. On Saturday Eno Yaw fucked his first teeny-bopper. But on Wednesday, in his office, in the downtown section of the city, Frank Kazarra fucked his secretary as he had been doing for at least five years-and that-includes a year before his wife died!

Holly Martin was bent over the long end of Frank's desk. She was busy going through an account book that listed the monetary transactions of the Kazarra Apartments.

Frank was busy behind her. Her skirt was up over her back, which exposed her finely shaped legs and full buttocks, which in themselves were a sight to see! The lips of her fat cunt were covered with black hair, and she was wearing a white girdle that held up expensive nylon stockings.

Frank said, "Are you ready for my prick, Holly?"

"Oh, Mr. Kazarra," Holly said, "I'm waiting for it!"

Holly's legs were spread and the lips of her cunt were slightly parted. All considered, she exhibited an attractive rear end.

Frank pulled his stiff prick from his pants. Its long length stood out straight. For many Wednesdays it had poked its head into the hole under the parted lips without being guided to that dainty vestibule by hand.

"Here it comes," Frank said. He grabbed Holly's broad hips in his hands and pushed the head of his cock into that divine opening.

"Stay, Mr. Kazarra!" Holly said.

Frank had obeyed that command from the first day he had fucked his secretary.. She had made him take it easy because, as she said, "Mr. Kazarra-your cock is so big it can kill me!" But by the time his balls had triggered the juice into Holly's passage that first time, his cock had ended up-all the way in!

Unlike the slender prick of Eno Yaw, Frank's was fat-a real article of flesh to bring pleasure to any willing cunt.

Holly's elbows were on the desk to support her torso. She closed the account book to get ready for the weekly rigmarole that had always gone with their screwing.

"Do you remember how we started fucking, Mr. Kazarra?" Holly asked. Her black hair shone and every strand was in place-on her head! It was like a cap with bangs to eyebrows and softly waved backward from bangs to neck.

"You tell me, Holly," Frank said. He enjoyed his Wednesdays and was in no hurry to end a session that had become so important to him.

Frank fucked his secretary once a week and Phyllis Reger once each month. It was enough sexual intercourse for him. He was not like the average Italian man whose ego makes him think he is Nature's gift to women. Frank was content with his limited access to cunt; he seldom looked for more than he had lined up.

"It was in May-five years ago, Mr. Kazarra. I was going on my vacation in June and needed more money for a better time. I asked you for five hundred dollars-what a nerve I had!"

"What a nerve you got!" Frank said.

Holly had learned not to move her ass during the beginning of their screwing bout. "You can say that again, Mr. Kazarra!" Holly said as she squeezed the muscles doctors call the constrictor cunni.

"What did I say about the five hundred?" Frank was leisurely prodding the cunt with his cock, going only halfway in.

"You said, 'Where's your collateral?' I didn't have any so I lifted my skirt and said, Here it is!"

Frank laughed at the recollection. "What did I do, Holly?"

"Oh, that feels so good, Mr. Kazarra. My husband's prick is so small I can hardly feel it when he puts it in there."

"Holly-what did I do?"

"You gave me the five hundred!"

"And then?" Frank pushed another inch of cock into Holly's chamber.

"Oh, Mr. Kazarra-you are a real fucker!"

"Yeah," Frank said.

"You waited until I returned from my vacation before you fucked me."

"But it wasn't a fucking to brag about, huh?"

"How was I to know you had a cock like a horse? I was so scared of it, Mr. Kazarra."

"Yeah-but the first fuck wasn't smooth, was it?"

"No."

"Why wasn't it?"

"Because you wanted to suck my breasts and fuck me on the couch, lying down. I just wouldn't!"

"Because you are a finicky bitch, right?"

"I don't like my clothes mussed up, Mr. Kazarra; nor my hair. I like to stay neat at all times around the office."

"So?" Frank diddled slowly. He liked Holly to tell the story of their first intercourse.

"We agreed that I would bend over your desk so you could fuck me."

"What did I do then?"

"You pulled up my skirt and placed it neatly over my back-when I insisted! Then you pulled down my panties so they dropped to the floor and you looked at my cunt. When I said, 'Is there something wrong with it?' you fingered it. Oh, Mr. Kazarra-you were so gentle!"

"You have some cunt, Holly. It is big enough to take all my prick."

"Not at first, I didn't! When you pushed it in that first time it felt like you were splitting my twat wide open. I said, 'Stay, Mr. Kazarra!' I was terrified! Jim's little prick was the first and only one I'd ever known. Imagine what your club was like going into my cunt?"

"I can imagine, Holly. Tell me about Jim."

"My husband was never a fucker like you, Mr. Kazarra. He's a cuntlapper, but a real professional one. When he licks my cunt I'm in paradise. I really believe he could make money with his tongue."

"Like you make it with your cunt, Holly?"

"That's different, Mr. Kazarra-oh, you called me a whore!"

"You fucked for five hundred!"

Holly laughed. "That does make me a whore- a high-priced one."

"Does Jim lick your cunt often, Holly?"

"Every night when I get home! He's a glutton for cunt, Mr. Kazarra. And Wednesday-Mr. Kazarra, he can't wait for me to get home!"

Frank put another inch in and asked, "Why is Wednesday so important?"

"Oh, Mr. Kazarra-it's so good!"

"Tell me," Frank said.

Holly hesitated and squeezed her cunt muscles again. "Jim knows you fuck me on Wednesdays."

"What?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Kazarra. Jim likes it because you do fuck me."

"Well, I'll be a sonofabitch! You never mentioned that before!"

"I know, Mr. Kazarra. I didn't want to upset you because I didn't want you to stop screwing me."

"But how does Jim take it?-I mean I'd get mad if I knew another man was fucking my wife!"

"Thank God, Jim is not like that," Holly said, liking the slow rhythm of Frank's prick in her cunt. "I told you he would rather lick a cunt than fuck it."

"My God, woman; he's one man in a million!"

"I know it. We've been married twenty years and Jim has screwed me-"

"Say fuck," Frank said. "He has fucked me once a week and sucked me every night for those twenty years!"

"Christ-he must be quite a sucker."

"He's a perfect cuntman, Mr. Kazarra."

"And you like to be sucked off that often?"

"If you were a woman you could understand the delight a man's tongue can give a woman's cunt. Jim's so good! He creates sexual rhapsodies on my twat that I can't resist."

"What about Wednesdays, Holly?"

"Put a little more in, Mr. Kazarra. It feels so good." Holly grunted slightly as another inch of hard flesh penetrated her interior. "Jim likes Wednesdays because he knows you fuck me and he can suck your come off my twat."

"What a man!" Frank said. "Imagine wanting to suck my juice off your cunt!"

"Jim gets a big bang out of that, Mr. Kazarra. He likes it so well that Wednesday is the best day for me. He even makes me tell him how you fuck me while he's lapping at my cunt!"

"And you tell him?"

"Sure I do, and he becomes so excited he practically eats my cunt!"

"What do you tell him?" Frank asked excitedly as he drove almost three quarters of his big piston into Holly's chamber.

"I tell him how big your prick is and he Seems fascinated by the size of it. I tell him everything -like how I take a little at a time until it's all in my twat."

Holly crossed her arms and laid her head on them. "Jim's the one who told me not to wipe my cunt after you come in it. He likes to lick it up with his tongue."

Frank pushed another inch in and Holly cried, "Oh, Mr. Kazarra-it's so big! No! No! Don't go so fast!"

Frank slowed his thrusts and said, "You really like me to fuck you?"

"I'd die if you stopped fucking me."

"You would?"

Holly sighed in delight as the ramming behind her caused her blood to ripple in her veins. "Jim and I went to school together, Mr. Kazarra. His prick was the only one my cunt knew before you began to fuck me. I like your cock much better than Jim's."

Frank shoved the last inch of cock into Holly's hole and said, "Tell me how your husband sucks you off."

Holly hadn't moved her ass an eighth of an inch since she bent over the desk for her Wednesday screwing. "Jim is good at it, Mr. Kazarra. He likes me to lie down on the edge of our bed with my feet flat on the floor and my legs spread as wide as I can get them. Jim kneels on the floor before my twat and plays with it like a toy. By the time he puts his tongue on it he has me worked up-really tuned up to a high pitch. I feel it all over. My breasts get hard and my muscles-the ones in my ass especially-begin to tighten up."

"Is that all?" Frank asked.

"Of course not! When I feel that way I concentrate on something else-like what I'll cook for dinner-or our bills!-and other things-never anything to do with sex."

Frank let go of Holly's fine hips. He placed his hands on her legs, liking the feel of the expensive nylon as it curved over her thighs.

"If I ever concentrated on the feelings Jim's tongue brings me I'd pop off like that!" Holly snapped her fingers. "He spreads my lips-my cunt lips-as far as he can get them. Then he places the flat of his tongue against my twat and never misses a speck of flesh on it!"

"Does it feel good?" Frank asked.

"My God, yes! Next to your cock there's nothing like it. When you make me come it feels great. When Jim makes me come it's so beautiful! He tongues my hole awhile and then concentrates on my clit. Then is when the feeling begins to intensify. It grows and grows and I think of what Jim is doing to my cunt until finally I just let go and burst into a wonderful ball of fire!"

Frank was feeling his cock begin to have that familiar sensation near its head. He pushed it all in and said, "Now's the time, Holly. I'm going to fuck you, but good!"

Frank put his hands on Holly's hips again and forced her to move backward to meet his forward thrusts.

Holly raised herself onto her elbows.

"Oh, Mr. Kazarra! Feel my cunt!"

Frank reached around one of Holly's thighs and placed a forefinger on her clitoris. He moved the tip of the finger in time to his driving shaft.

"Oh, Mr. Kazarra-that's terrific!"

"You better come, Holly-my cock is ready to burst!"

"I am too!"

They both breathed harder, with the released air causing moaning sounds in the office. Holly began moving her ass and Frank locked his arms around her thighs.

"Frank! Frank!" Holly cried, forgetting her rule never to call her boss by his first name. "Fuck me, Frank! Fuck me!"

And Frank, as he always did in the throes of his own spending, yelled, "You dirty bitch! You fuck me! Move your ass! Squeeze your cunt on my cock! Why you dirty bitch-I'd like to stick this in your husband's mouth!"

That's as far as he got. His load shot from his prick and drenched the entire inside of the cunt he was fucking. He moved faster and faster to get all possible feeling from his effort.

Holly cried, "Fuck me, you dirty Italian pig! Make that horse cock blow out my brains! Give it to me-fuck, you pig!"

And that's as far as she got. Her cunt burst into that wonderful ball of fire and the feeling spread throughout her body. "Oh, Mr. Kazarra," Holly said. "You did it again!"

"That was a good fuck, Holly," Frank said. He withdrew his cock from Holly's cunt and she stood up and smoothed down her skirt. After the first three screwings Frank had given her, she got into the habit of not wearing panties to work-on Wednesdays.

Frank pocketed his big prick and sat down by his desk. "Holly," he said, "vacation time will soon be here. You'll need the extra money."

"Yes, Mr. Kazarra."

"What with prices going up you'll need more money this year."

"I could use more."

"Holly," Frank said, watching the face of his secretary, "I've been thinking for some time about a small change in our Wednesday fucking."

"You don't want me to suck that thing-oh, no!"

"No, Holly. Not that."

"Then what else is there, Mr. Kazarra?"

"I'll give you a thousand dollars, Holly. Imagine the vacation you can have on a thousand dollars!"

"I could have the best I've ever-where's the catch?"

"Holly, I've got a thing about fucking you in the ass!"

"Oh, no, Mr. Kazarra-not that!"

"That or no money."

"Not even the five hundred?" Holly pleaded.

"Not even the five hundred." Frank sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.

Holly placed her hands on the desk. "Why don't you fuck that black girl you told me about screwing once a month-for rent money, no less!"

"Niggerbabies don't go for ass fucking."

"Why my ass, Mr. Kazarra? Why don't you get that woman you're so crazy about? The one who lives on your floor-that Thorne woman!"

"She's special, Holly."

"But why my ass?"

"Because you're the one I want to ass fuck!"

"Please, Mr. Kazarra!"

"Come here, Holly."

Holly Martin obeyed her boss. She walked to his chair looking crestfallen.

"Turn around," Frank ordered.

Holly turned and Frank lifted her skirt and said, "Bend over."

"Mr. Kazarra!" Holly said.

"Bend!"

Holly was almost in tears as she bent over the desk again. Frank quickly pushed his finger into Holly's puckered hole. When she tried to get away he held her around the waist and finger-fucked the opening that had never been used sexually.

When Holly quieted down Frank asked, "How do you like it?"

"Oh, Mr. Kazarra. I don't like it and will you please take your finger out!"

"Not until you say I can fuck it!"

"You would kill me! You really would, Mr. Kazarra."

"Nonsense, Holly. I'd go as easy with your ass as I do with your cunt. You can grease my prick with lots of Vaseline and I'll grease your ass. It will go in easy that way. Besides I promise to put in only what you can take. Okay?"

"It's such a chance, Mr. Kazarra!"

"Holly," Frank said as he continued to finger-fuck the hole, "I'm so set on fucking it-I've been lusting for it for months!"

Holly began to groan softly.

"See," Frank said. "You like it!"

"Oh, Mr. Kazarra-your finger is so little compared to your cock!"

"I told you I'd go easy." Frank relentlessly pushed his finger into Holly's asshole. Then to make it worse he inserted another finger into her cunt!

Holly now spread her legs and said, "Keep doing it, Mr. Kazarra-you're going to make me come again!"

Frank stopped. "I won't until you say I can put my cock where my finger is."

"Oh, Mr. Kazarra, it's beginning to feel sensational! Please do it more!"

"Do I fuck your ass?"

"Yes, oh, yes! Do it!"

Frank finger-fucked Holly's asshole and cunt until her very beautiful ball of fire sent shivers over her body again. "Oh, you dirty Italian pig!" she cried and shivered as if a wave of cold air had hit her.

"You won't go back on your word, Holly?" Frank asked. He wiped his finger with a tissue and stood up.

"Promise me you will put in only what I can take?"

"I promise, Holly."

"When do you want to do it that way?"

"Next Wednesday."

"All right." Holly adjusted her skirt. "You said a thousand?"

"Of course."

Holly laughed. "I'll take it!"

Frank started to walk toward the office bathroom. He turned and said, "Have a good vacation, Holly."

"I will, Mr. Kazarra, if your cock doesn't send me to the hospital!"

"Don't worry about that-we'll do it easy," Frank went to the bathroom door. When he opened it he said, "Take the rest of the day off, Holly. Let your husband suck my come off your twat before it dries."

"Oh, Mr. Kazarra-tonight he'll even suck my ass!"

"Don't forget your cunt, Holly."

"Jim would never neglect that! I told you he's the best cuntlapper in the world!"

"Amen!" Frank said just before he disappeared into the bathroom.

So with her cheeks rosy and every strand of hair still in place, Holly Martin went home to her husband.

Chapter 11

Alone in her apartment waiting for Keith, Bettina was surprised to find that she was excited by the fact that she was going to suck a virgin prick.

Had she ever? She doubted the fact. Most boys like Keith were hung up on sex, and the percentage was too high to believe that many were running around who had never stuck their dicks into a girl's twat. Sex was too openly used these days to find a virgin of the male gender.

Tonight would be sensational for Keith because she would make it so-but had he ever had his cock sucked? Her thoughts were alive as she paraded alone in her apartment wearing nothing but a pair of white ballet slippers.

When the chimes finally rang she looked through the little spy glass in the door to make sure Keith was there. She wanted to shock him and she succeeded. Keith's mouth seemed to fall open as he saw the naked vision.

Bettina had to draw him quickly into the hallway; he seemed not only speechless but also immobile. She closed the door and locked it. Turning to Keith she said as she raised her arms upward, "Kiss my tits!"

With trembling eagerness Keith kissed first one red nipple and then the other. Bettina's breasts were beauties with a deep pink areola circling each red papilla.

"Now suck on them," Bettina ordered.

In her nakedness, with her arms raised, she was superb. She had the short trunk and long legs of the professional dancer. Her flesh was, for a redhead, flawless. A pinkish glow seemed to shine through the skin, making the flesh as sweet as a baby's.

The raised arms gave erotic impact to her breasts as Keith continued to suck on the swollen tidbits. A picture came to his mind: he could see the famous starlet singing into a microphone. Her left arm had been raised in the same way Bettina's was now. Then he had imagined himself licking her armpit with the flat of his tongue. He had slowly moved his tongue over the muscular contour until he reached the place where her breast began.

Moving his tongue down and under the singer's breast he had, in his dream, stiffened his tongue to see if he could push the breast upward. All his tongue had done was slide upward to the nipple which he sucked on in his fantasy as he was now sucking on Bettina's in reality.

Keith was equally as fascinated by Bettina's left armpit now as he had been when seeing the singer on television. His cock had become extremely turgid as he sucked on the red nipples. And now he wanted to lick Bettina's armpit!

At last he got up the courage to stop his nipple sucking to say, "Bettina, I want to ask you something."

Bettina lowered her arms. "Tell me."

Still a bit shy and panic-stricken, Keith stuttered in his embarrassment. "Would you mind if I licked your armpit?"

Bettina laughed as Keith's cheeks reddened. "Whatever for, pet?"

"I just want to, that's all."

"Why not?" Bettina said. "If you want to play, we'll play. Take all your clothes off."

Keith shed his clothes quickly, leaving them on the floor where he was standing. He followed Bettina as she moved ahead of him into the center of the studio. The lamps on the end tables cast fascinating light over the large room.

From where she stood Bettina could see into the mirror on the south wall of the room. She turned sideway to it and asked, "Which armpit does my pet want to lick?"

"The left one," Keith said. It was the armpit away from the mirror.

Bettina raised her left arm and Keith moved to her side. And just as he had fantasized the singer, he now licked an armpit in reality.

When his moist tongue touched her, Bettina giggled. "It tickles," she said.

Keith licked the armpit with a lot more fervor than he had done in his dream.

"How does it taste?" Bettina asked.

Keith licked on, not answering.

"How does it smell?" she asked.

Keith moved his tongue over the muscular bulge and slowly down the outline of Bettina's left breast.

"Mercy, that does feel good," Bettina said, shivering at the touch of Keith's tongue.

Keith got his tongue under the breast and stiffened it. He tried to lift the breast, but all his lingual effort did was to slide his tongue up the fancy tit to the red nipple.

"Mercy," Bettina said. She watched the bodies in the mirror and with her left hand felt the stiff prick. At the touch of the hand on his cock Keith's body twitched.

"Oh!" he exclaimed and the word came out muffled. The red nipple was still in his mouth.

Bettina caressed the prick lightly, her fingers barely touching the red head that kept so close to Keith's belly. It was all that was needed to make the cock spit in Bettina's hand.

"Damn it, Keith!" she said. "How are you ever going to be a man when a little fondling makes that thing go off?"

Keith was breathing heavily on Bettina's breast as his spasms blew more come into her hand. She held onto the prick until it became quiet. Then she squeezed on it and pulled.

"Come on," she said. "Let's go to the bathroom so we can clean up this mess."

With his cock tightly held in Bettina's hand Keith could do nothing but follow her to the bathroom where she released him.

"Wash that stuck-up prick good," she said, starting to wash her hands. "I have plans for it."

While Bettina dried her hands Keith ran warm water into the lavatory. He wet a soft washcloth and soaped it with a finely scented soap.

"Here, let me have that," Bettina said.

Taking the cloth from Keith she washed Keith's soft prick with a great deal of delight. "This is a sweet little thing," she said. "Want me to kiss it?"

"You would?" Keith asked, seeming amazed that a girl would do that to him.

"Why not?" Bettina rinsed Keith's balls and cock. After she dried them gently, she knelt down on the carpet, holding the towel in her hand, and kissed the little cock that was beginning to swell again.

"Mercy," she said, "it's a beauty. It isn't tired at all!"

With that saying she put the prick into her mouth and gave it a skillful sucking. It wasn't more than a minute before the come shot into her mouth. She spit the semen into the towel and held the towel over the prick.

"Damn it, Keith! Can't you control that thing?" she said.

Keith tried to subdue his heavy breathing. "I'm sorry, Bettina," he managed to say. "You can't expect it not to shoot its load when it's the first time it's been sucked on!"

"Mercy!" Bettina said. "You are a virgin- not sucked on at all?"

"No," Keith said.

"Hasn't any man or boy wanted to suck on it when you were growing up?"

"Never!" Keith said.

"For mercy's sake, you are a baby, pet!"

Keith blushed, but he managed to say, "When do I get to fuck you, Bettina?"

"What do you want, blood to come from that thing? Twice in a night is plenty."

Keith said, "Damn it, Tina, why don't you let me fuck you?"

"Keith, my pet, let's leave it like this because I promise to let you fuck me next Friday-no, no! I shall fuck you! I'll give you a ride that will take the daylights out of you. I'll make your head spin. Your ass will pucker tight and you'll feet like your little prick is in paradise."

Keith said, "That's a nice promise, but let's do it tonight."

"You'll have to wait, pet," Bettina said. "Just think about my miracle box, my peter-beater, my pecker-wrecker. Imagine what is going to happen to you, come next Friday!"

Chapter 12

Eno Yaw was beset by both fear and eager sexual anticipation as he waited for Joyce Craigh on Saturday morning. He knew that teeny-boppers were jailbait. If caught he would see arrest, a trial, and a stern judge sending him to prison for years.

However his reasoning was offset by the realization that Joyce was coming of her own accord. She was a mini-bitch for sure, but what the hell, it would be worth it.

At exactly ten-thirty there was a knock on the door. In an eagerness that belied his fear he quickly opened the door, and there she was!

Dressed in yellow today, Joyce asked brightly, "Still like me, pops?"

Eno closed the door quickly and said, "Sure do, missy. Can't wait to see that pretty little thing again." He started to put his arms around the girl but she evaded his grasp.

"Easy does it, pops. I've got thrills and more thrills for you today-but first the bread." Joyce held her hand out.

Eno dug into his slacks and came up with the cash. "Seventy-five, you little robber."

"Can you get it cheaper, pops?" Joyce asked as Eno counted the money into her hand.

"Like your sweet little thing, missy. Been dreaming about you, girl; been jerking Yam off just thinking about your little twat."

"You play with Yam a lot?"

"Once a day, missy."

"Want me to jerk him off, pops?"

"Hell no, missy!" Eno said quickly. "Yam wants to get into your cunt again. Wants to smell around in that dark hole where he feels so good. He wants to spit in your cunt, missy!"

"Tell Yam he'll have to wait." Joyce walked to the bed and sat down, "Let's strip, pops; you first."

Eno was trembling again as he had the first time the teeny-bopper had entered his room. He said, "Have to have a shot, missy."

Eno walked to the sideboard near the door. "Want one?" he asked.

"No thanks, pops. I don't drink, smoke, or use dope."

"Good girl," Eno said. "Can't stand them dope takers."

Eno swallowed his shot of rye and Joyce said, "Come on, pops, let's get going."

Eno poured another shot and downed it neatly. He moved to a chair and took everything off but his shorts. He was in fine physical shape for a man his age, and he knew it. He walked toward Joyce, conscious of the bulge Yam was making in his underwear.

"Get naked, pops," Joyce ordered. She moved her hands to the waistband of his shorts and boldly pulled them down. "You ain't bad looking for a dirty old man, pops-and that Yam is something else!" She swatted the stiff cock with the tips of her fingers.

"Missy!" was all Eno could say as he stepped out of his shorts and picked them up.

"Now watch me, pops," Joyce said as she stood up. She pulled off the yellow sweater she was wearing, eased her feet out of her yellow sneakers, and then dropped her shorts. "How's me, pops?"

There was no denying her youthful figure. She was slender and slick from blonde hair to pink toes.

"Missy," Eno said, "I ain't seen anything like you since the day I was born; and that's a fact!"

She was a sexy little devil with her hairless slit and her orange-size breasts. "Like me, pops?" she asked.

"Sure do, missy," Eno said. "Like to see your cunt."

"Oh no, pops," Joyce said. "Today you work for it, and you had better make up your mind to do everything I want. If you don't I'll leave. Understand?"

Eno sighed. "Gotta do what you want, missy. Yam would be real hurt he can't get into your cunt."

"Now you understand, do as I say." Joyce walked over to where Eno stood by the sideboard. "Pops," she said, "how would you like another drink?"

That's what Eno had gone for. "Could use it, missy."

Joyce took the water glass Eno had used and poured a third of whiskey into it. She held the glass so she could catch Eno's drooping prick in it. When she raised the glass the prick's head was dunked into the rye. Joyce moved the glass with the prick inside in a circular motion. Then thinking of another thing to do she lowered the glass so Eno's prick came out of it. Raising the glass again she captured Eno's balls in it. She bathed the balls for a short while before handing the glass to Eno.

"Drink," she ordered.

Taking the glass from her hand Eno sipped the whiskey. He watched Joyce's face as he let the cock-and-balls flavored drink enter his mouth.

"Wait!" Joyce said before Eno could finish the whiskey. "I want to dilute it for you."

Joyce took the glass and squatted down. She held the glass under her cunt. Eno could see that she was pissing in his glass.

Joyce squeezed off the flow of urine and taking Eno by the hand she led him to the toilet. It was spotless. Joyce sat down on the John and handed the glass to Eno.

"Kneel in front of me, pops, while I finish peeing."

Eno knelt down.

"Now drink my pee, pops."

Eno drank the mixture of piss and whiskey in almost a single gulp. "Your pee's sweet, missy."

Joyce stood up and said, "Come on, pops, we'll go out on the rug and you can lick the pee off my pretty little slit."

Eno followed his five feet, ninety odd pounds of shapely teeny-bopper. "Lay on the rug, pops," Joyce said.

Eno did as he was told without question. Joyce stood over him with her feet on each side of his neck. "You like my slit, pops?" she asked.

"Sure do, missy," Eno said, his eyes on the baby crease over his head.

Joyce squatted down. Her cunt was a slick little thing. It lay forward on her pubic arch with lips that were no more than three inches in length. It was a small twat. Eno decided; sweet to look at, much nicer to lick.

Joyce put her hands under Eno's head and pulled. Eno's mouth, came even with the pretty slit. "Lick the pee off, pops," Joyce said.

Eno licked the lips with relish; and between them. He searched for the vaginal hole with his tongue. Joyce released his head. "Like it, pops?" she asked.

"Best little cunt in the world," Eno said. Joyce stood up. "Come to the bed, pops."

Eno rolled to his hands and knees and crawled to the bed. His cock was real stiff and ready for some action.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Joyce said, "So you're not a titman, pops?"

Eno sat back on his legs and said, "Never cared for sucking tits, missy. Like cunt better."

"No kidding, pops?" Joyce laughed. It was a real pleasant laugh. In her silky voice she said, "Today you suck tits, pops. Mine!"

Eno moved to the bed and Joyce thrust her little titties out. "Suck them, pops!" she ordered.

Eno sucked. He was not looking for trouble. T-r-o-u-b-l-e, as Joyce spelled it out. First one pink nipple went into his mouth, then the other. He became excited by the tender flesh as the little nipple hardened. His tongue tickled the bud.

"Pops," Joyce said, "you are a titman!"

"Never thought tits could be so good," Eno said. And for ten minutes Joyce let Eno suck her breasts.

Then she said, "Pops, I've something else in mind for you to lick."

"Look, missy," Eno said, moving on his knees backward. "See Yam? Yam's ready for your little twat right now!"

Joyce leaned forward. She slapped Eno's cock with her fingers. "Yam can wait," she said. "I want my slit to receive lots of attention before you put that thing in it."

Eno sighed. "Come on, missy, give Yam a break."

"No! Either you do what I want or you get trouble. Understand?"

The word trouble would always lay like a threat on his conscience. Eno wanted pleasure; that was all. "How much more do you want me to do, missy? Yam's ready already!"

Joyce laughed and stood up. She turned around and knelt down by the bed. Her perfect bottom was nicely exposed. "Now lick my ass, pops," she commanded.

"I ain't no asslicker!"

"You will be or that stiff thing won't go into my cunt!"

Eno moved on his knees so his tongue could lick Joyce's anus. He sniffed at it and Joyce said, "Right on, pops! I really scrubbed it and put perfume on it."

Eno licked and Joyce continued, "Two boys had to lick my ass before I'd let them fuck me. I read about it in The Sensuous Woman, pops. It said that as long as I keep it clean it was all right to have a man lick it."

Eno licked and Joyce asked, "Like it, pops?"

"Rather put Yam in your cunt, missy."

"Lick it, you old bastard!"

Eno went on to lick the puckered hole.

"How does it smell, pops?" Joyce asked. "Pretty?"

"Ain't no bad smell, missy."

"Say, pops, do you like whipped cream?" Joyce asked. She turned around and sat on the bed again.

Eno remained kneeling. "Sure do, missy. I eat peaches and cream every morning. Keeps Yam happy."

"Good," Joyce said. "Now you can eat cunt and cream, pops."

"How's that, missy?"

"If you eat peaches and cream each morning you must have a little cream in the fridge."

"Sure do, missy."

"Get it," Joyce ordered.

While Eno went to the refrigerator, Joyce walked to the table which was diagonally across the room from the bed. She pulled out a chair and stepped on it so she could sit on the table.

"Here it is, missy," Eno said, waving a plastic container of whipped cream.

"Bring it here, pops, and sit on the chair."

Joyce moved her feet off the chair so Eno could sit down. "When we get done with the cream, pops, you can shove Yam all the way up my cunt."

"What," Eno asked, "do you want me to do with the cream?"

"Can't you guess, pops?" Joyce lay back on the table. She raised her legs and placed her arms under her knees. "Just smear it on and lick it off, pops. Keep eating creamed cunt until I tell you to stop."

For once Eno didn't say a word. He smeared the whipped cream on the hairless slit and licked it off. Joyce shivered as the cold cream made contact with her warm cunt. But she let Eno smear her twat five times before she said it was all she could stand.

"Pops," she said, "I'm beginning to feel funny down there."

"Do we fuck now, missy?" Eno asked. "Yam's ready to go off right soon."

Joyce swung her small body so she could slide off the table. She lay down on the rug and spread her legs. Eno didn't move. "Well, come on, pops, push Yam up my cunt!"

"No, no, missy," Eno protested, "let's fuck on the bed."

"Why, you stupid old man-don't you know the best way to screw is on the floor?" Eno said, "At my age the bed is best."

"Fuck you and the bed too," Joyce said.

Eno placed the whipped cream-the little that was left of it-in the refrigerator before kneeling between Joyce's parted legs. He fumbled around until he had his lusty cock lined up with Joyce's exquisite cunt. He whammed his Yam into it with all the pleasure Ponce de Leon must have felt when he planted his staff on a sand dune in Florida in 1513.

Eno held his weight off Joyce's tender body by leaning on his elbows. Joyce put her arms around Eno's back and moved her diminutive buttocks in time to his thrusts. "Fuck me, daddy," she said, breathing against Eno's neck. "Fuck me, daddy, fuck me!"

Eno liked the feel of the teeny-bopper's body moving against his; it was a dainty body, fresh and delightful. When he looked down he could see that Joyce's eyes were closed and she was now at the stage where her feelings were making her lungs work harder.

"I'll fuck you, you little bitch," Eno said. "I'll fuck you till I get my money's worth!"

Eno felt the little legs go around his thighs. He pushed into her with such rapid strokes that her body slid forward on the rug.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Joyce cried. "Fuck me, fuck me-screw me, daddy!"

Eno screwed. He could feel Yam hard and solid in the soft vaginal length of Joyce's joy-box. His balls slapped the cheeks of her small ass as he moved even faster to satisfy the girl who cried beneath him. She was a delectable piece and he was approaching his sexual peak.

As the interior of her vagina sweated its drops of oil, Joyce clung to Eno with all her might. She was reaching her peak too. "Daddy, daddy-I'm coming-coming," Her voice was quiet and silky now, as if she were trying to control the flow of sensations that were invading her body.

Eno screwed. His cock was close to exploding, but he tried to hold on until he knew his little partner was also on the come line. He continued fucking Joyce like a man gone crazy.

"Come on, missy-come!" he said as his own breathing became harsher.

"Oh daddy, daddy." It was not a cry this time. It was the awed whisper of a child having its first taste of sexual intercourse. Then the voice suddenly raged: "Like funny is here!"

Joyce tightened her arms and legs around Eno's body. Her little nipples were very hard, her feet moved spasmodically, a series of contractions went through her thighs, legs, and reached her already moving feet.

Eno could feel Joyce's cunt grip his prick. He released his effort to hold back and with a tremendous thrust he forced Yam up the vaginal passage where Yam expelled an ample amount of semen. Pain shot through Eno's lungs as he puffed to a passionate end and heard his young companion say, "Daddy!"

He dropped exhaustedly down on top of Joyce's body. He was still breathing as if he had run a hundred miles with a bullwhip at his back.

When both recovered, they washed themselves and began dressing.

"Missy," Eno said.

"What, pops?" Joyce said as she pulled up her yellow shorts.

"Tell me, did your old man screw you?"

"Why?" Joyce asked.

"You call me pops, but you yelled for daddy to fuck you."

"Daddy did. He made me sit on it when I was ten years old."

"Did you like it?" Eno said.

Joyce pulled her yellow sweater over her head. "Why not? It felt good,"

Eno put on his white shirt. "Did your daddy have a cock like Yam?"

"Are you kidding?" Joyce sat down on the bed to put her sneakers on.

"You gonna want Yam again, missy?" Eno pulled up his slacks and tucked in the shirt.

"Sure, pops," Joyce said. "The next one's free."

"Will you suck Yam off, missy?"

Joyce walked to the door and put her hand on the knob. She turned to face Eno. "No way, pops, no way."

She started to open the door and Eno said, "Wait, missy. I got to ask you something."

"What now, pops?"

"Where in hell did you learn them tricks?"

"What tricks, pops?"

"Like licking your ass and creaming your cunt."

Joyce threw Eno a kiss with her fingers. "The boys, pops; the boys. I just pass it on to the dirty old men who want to play with a little girl."

"Yam ain't been sucked by a little girl."

Joyce laughed. "No way, pops."

"One hundred-"

"I'll take it, pops!"

"When?"

"Saturday." Joyce went out the door leaving a physically tired old man behind her.

But his mind wasn't tired when Conchi Thorne rode up in the elevator with him that afternoon. What would it be like, he wondered, to ride her fine body, to drive Yam home between her fine legs? And as pictures flowed through his mind's eye Yam stirred.

When he was alone in the elevator again, Eno said to Yam, "Damned if you couldn't shoot her well full of come right now!"

Chapter 13

It was playtime again in Apartment 3-C; but maybe it should be called intermission because Gab Monthor was resting.

His back was against the sofa as he sat nude on the fine Persian rug. His strong black legs were spread apart and his great tool hung downward in quiet contentment.

He had just fucked both the Classman twins, Doris and Donnie, who were lying naked on their backs with their blonde heads on Gab's thighs. Each girl had beads of sweat on her belly but only Donnie had come on her twat. Gab had fucked her last, having saved his load for the dark depth of Donnie's sweet cunt.

Gab's eyes were closed and his hands were busy stroking the hair on the heads that were resting on his thighs. The silky feel of the long blonde hair made him say, "Nice."

It was Doris who turned over onto her belly to say, "Let me tickle your cock with Donnie's hair."

Gab opened his eyes and smiled. "Why not?" he agreed.

The blondes had given Gab lots of release from the tensions that go with the internship necessary to a medical career; and he in turn had given them exceptional attention with his generous equipment. The threesome had no ties that could not be easily broken: they gave sex to one another with no strings attached. But after six months of sex with the Classman twins Gab had fleeting thoughts of going on to other fields-which was his euphemism for other cunts. It still amazed him to know that black was often beautiful where some white women were concerned.

He was male enough to want to conquer and subdue. He wanted most a subtle challenge to his manhood and he knew that such a challenge existed in the Kazarra Apartments. Her name was Conchi Thorne.

He had seen her a number of times since his visits to the blondes' apartment had become more than a habit. She had a sexual swing to her walk that was very exciting to his increasing desire to fuck her. He knew she wasn't young, but with a figure like hers, who cared about age? But he sure faced a tough enough problem: how to get next to her.

Gab opened his eyes to watch his big cock being tickled by Doris. She was dangling the ends of her sister's hair over his limp prick and then moving it up and down. After a while his cock began to move as the slow gathering of blood made it inch its way to a fine erection.

Doris took Donnie's hair and wrapped it around the black prick until only the head of it remained uncovered. "How's that?" she asked Gab.

Gab smiled. "Looks real pretty and maybe it will feel real pretty if you rub the hair up and down on it."

"You mean jerk you off!" Doris said.

"Why not, you splendid bitch?" Gab said. "What's a little jerkoff between friends?"

"No way, friend," Doris said.

"Why not?"

"You ask that with a willing cunt only an arm's length away?"

"Sure."

"You'd have me pull on it when you can shove it up my twat?"

"Don't forget that variety is the spice of life."

"Well, then shove it up my ass," Doris said, "it's cherry!"

Gab looked with surprise at the beautiful girl.

"You're putting me on."

Donnie turned so she was on her belly. She gathered her hair and said, "I'd like to see that, sister mine. In fact I'd like to steer it right into that cherry of yours!"

"Really now," Doris said.

"Turn around," Donnie said. "Let Gab and me examine that cherry up close."

Doris turned on her hands and knees and backed her ass up close for an examination.

"Nice," Gab said as he stroked Doris's buttocks. "Real nice."

Donnie knelt behind her sister's behind. She pulled the lavish buttocks apart. "What a cute little thing it is. It's all puckered up tight-why Gab could never get his prick in it!"

"Oh yes I could!" Gab said quickly, "But will she let me?"

"Well, sister?" Donnie said.

"Like hell!" Doris said. "It will hurt me."

"Why, you little baby," Donnie said. "People have been screwing asses long before the Turks invaded Greece!"

"So now you want Gab to invade me?"

"You said it, I didn't." Donnie pressed her forefinger against Doris's anus. Doris wriggled her behind. "See, Doris," Gab said. "You love it!"

"A finger pressed against my ass is a lot different from your big cock!"

Gab began stroking Doris's cunt. She had parted her thighs so he could do a good job of feeling her box. And while Gab worked on the cream complexioned cunt with its golden hairs, Donnie pressed an index finger against her sister's puckered hole.

Doris wiggled her ass under the attention she was receiving;. "Oh glory!" she said. "That feels so good!"

Without warning Donnie quickly pushed her finger into her sister's asshole. At the same time Gab slid two fingers into Doris's twat.

Doris let out a yelp as Donnie's finger disappeared into the cherry opening. "How's that, sister mine?" Donnie asked.

With finger fucking going on in both holes Doris moved her body forward and back against the pressures that were behind her. She was breathing fast as she said, "That sure feels good."

Immediately Gab and Donnie withdrew their fingers.

"What are you stopping for?" Doris asked. "You'll have me coming in no time flat!"

"I'm going to wash my finger," Donnie said, "and when I come back be ready for Gab's prick."

"Oh no I won't!" Doris said. "Your little finger made a thrill for me, but that massive prick -you're both funny!"

"Come on, Doris," Gab said. "It's the now thing!"

"Yeah," Doris said. "I do it now and suffer later."

Donnie went to the bathroom to wash her hands. "Why not?" she said aloud. She made up her mind as she dried her hands. Taking a plastic bottle of hand lotion from the shelf she went back to the living room where Gab was caressing Doris's cunt. He was saying, "I won't hurt you, Doris, I promise."

"Hold it," Donnie said. She knelt down by Gab and Doris. "I'll go first, sister mine, if you go second."

"Well, listen to Little Miss Bravo!" Doris said. "Gab-she's ready to take your prick into her twiddle box!"

"What's more," Gab said happily, "she came prepared."

"Yes I did," Donnie said, "but I won't do it if Doris doesn't promise to do it too."

"I'll wait and see how you take it, Donnie."

"Okay," Donnie said.

Gab smiled. "I got me two cherries to fuck- oh man!"

"Don't be too sure, you big cock," Doris said.

"Yeah," Donnie agreed. "Don't get your head in until I make some rules."

"Like what?" Gab asked.

"Like Doris is going to put her hand under my belly and feel my twat with one hand-"

"We've never had any sex between us before!" Doris said.

"So now we start, sister mine; we may even suck each other's cunt before we stop."

Gab had been sitting with one arm on the sofa as he eyed the twins as they talked. "I'd sure appreciate seeing you two do a lapping job on each other!"

"Never mind that now," Donnie said. "You take this lotion and squirt it on my ass. Rub it around and then spread it on that monster."

The kneeling Donnie placed her hands on the rug and moved so her thighs were open. Gab squirted the lotion into Donnie's crack and rubbed it on her anus. While he squirted and smeared the lotion on his hard cock Doris moved to her sister's side and reached under her.

"Here goes for my first feel," Doris said as she caressed the blonde thatch that was on her sister's belly.

She reached Donnie's cunt at the same time Gab said, "I'm ready for your cherry, you splendid bitch!"

"I'm ready too," Donnie said, spreading her knees some more.

Gab placed the head of his prick squarely against the puckered hole and was ready to penetrate it when Donnie said, "Wait!"

Gab put his hands on Donnie's haunches. "Wait for what?"

"Doris," Donnie said, "clasp Gab's monster with your other hand and don't let him push too much cock into my ass."

Doris grabbed Gab's cock with one hand as she worked two fingers into her sister's cunt hole.

"Ready?" Gab asked.

"Ready," Donnie said.

Gab shoved his greased stick slowly until the head of it had been pressured into the blonde's ass.

"Wait!" Donnie cried. "Hold it there!"

Doris moved her fingers from her sister's cunt and began to play with the little clit.

"Oh," Donnie said. "It's a real thrill to feel your hand on my twat, sister mine."

"What about my cock in your rear end?" Gab asked.

"Hold it a moment, Gab. Let Doris build up some pleasure in my cunt."

Doris rubbed the little nub for a long minute before Donnie said, "That feels fine-and keep your fist on Gab's prick so he can't hurt me."

Gab pushed his prick in and Donnie screamed. "Enough! you black bastard."

Gab held steady until Donnie said, "All right-push in some more, slowly."

Working together, Doris and Gab went to work on Donnie. Doris felt every inch of her sister's twat while Gab pushed his prick in Donnie's ass as far as he could with Doris's fist around it. They worked in concert until Donnie began to moan softly.

"Oh God!" Donnie said.

Doris moved so she was kneeling beside Gab. She inserted two fingers into her sister's cunt.

"It feels so good in my two holes!" Donnie cried.

Gab was sweating. He knew he couldn't hold hack this time. It was too new and exciting being in Donnie's asshole and feeling Doris's fingers below his cock. He leaned across Donnie's back and grabbed her tits. He could feel Doris let go of his prick. She was reaching under Donnie again, playing with her sister's clit while shoving three fingers up her sister's moist cunt.

"Oh God!" Donnie said again.

His balls hit Doris's hand as he shoved his cock in all the way. Donnie never let out a yelp as the monster charged home! All she did was move eagerly backward to receive it.

"Man!" Gab said excitedly. "Hang in there, Donnie, because this is something else!"

Doris now moved away from the action. She sat cross-legged on the Persian rug and watched. Her sister and Gab were coupled like two dogs. Gab's prick was going in and coming out of the asshole in fine sexual rhythm.

The contrast between Gab's black skin and Donnie's creamy flesh was attractive. The girl's blonde hair covered her face and touched the floor. She was braced on her hands and knees, taking all the stiff cock as if it were an anteater searching for bugs in a hole in the ground.

Doris still watched as Gab let go of her sister's breasts. He grabbed Donnie's shoulders and made a huge thrust of his prick into the hole of his blonde partner.

"No! No!" Donnie screamed. "You'll rupture me!"

Doris moved quickly, grabbing Gab's cock in her fist. "God damn you, Gab; you're a doctor!"

Gab could only grunt. Then his breathing came fast as spasms hit the end of his prick causing the semen to flood Donnie's interior. "Bitch! Bitch!" he cried as he slumped over Donnie's back, exhausted.

Donnie had liked the warm shot of come, but while the experience had been exciting she had not felt the kind of relief that an orgasm brings. She twisted her back so Gab slid off her body. He landed on the luxurious rug between her and the sofa. "Man," he said. "A cherry is more than a cherry when it's in an asshole!"

Donnie lay on her back with her legs toward her sister. "Come on, sister mine. Lick my slit and make me come."

"Oh glory!" Doris said. "After all these years I've got to cunt-suck my own sister!"

"So-do you want me to suffer because that black bastard couldn't hang in until I came?"

"Of course not," Doris assured her sister. She started to lie down on her belly between her sister's shapely legs. She stopped, resting on her hands. She said, "Donnie, we should do it together the first time."

"All right," Donnie agreed. "Bring your twat around so I can lick it."

Doris moved her body so her knees were against Donnie's shoulders. She lowered her cunt so Donnie could reach it with her tongue. Together they started licking each other.

Gab recovered slowly as the twins gave each other pleasure. When he became aware of what was taking place he watched the two girls with interest. After a while he went to the bathroom to wash his prick.

When Gab returned the twins were still licking away. Their heavy breathing was somewhat muffled by the closeness of their mouths to the cunt each was sucking.

"Well, well," Gab said. "If this keeps up old Gab will be out in the cold."

The girls licked on, not even hearing Gab's words.

At last Donnie began to tremble. Her nipples were hard nubs. Her feet began to curl and uncurl. She continued to tongue her sister's clit as an orgasm made her legs stiffen. She could feel her sister's clitoris begin to throb as Doris flattened her moist twat over Donnie's face. Neither girl stopped licking until each one came again. It was then they lay on the floor on their backs as the pleasant fatigue of sexual sport overcame them.

"God, Donnie," Doris said. "You licked my cunt better than Gab!"

"Look what we missed all these years!"

Gab laughed. "If you two can have that kind of fun by yourselves you won't need me anymore. You'll make me try to fuck that majestic blonde upstairs."

Donnie raised her head. "You keep mentioning her-what the hell has she got that we haven't?"

"Yes, you big cock," Doris chimed in, "what has she got?"

Gab laughed. "I don't know yet. But just seeing her walk is a grab at my balls."

Doris stared at Gab in amazement as she watched his prick stir. "By glory-she must have something if just talking about her can raise that cock!"

Donnie slapped at Gab's ascending tool. "Down, boy, down!" she said to Gab. And to her sister, "Come on, Doris, let's take a shower together and leave this black bastard to his sexy thoughts."

Together Doris and Donnie scampered off to the bathroom where they washed each other's cunt with great pleasure. Gab stayed put. He was occupied with thoughts of the blonde upstairs and the sight of his prick working its way up to a stiffness suitable for another fucking.

It had to mean something, he thought, if just thinking can make an erection. He stroked the head of the supreme prick and then went naked into the bathroom. Why waste a hard on when two blonde cunts were always ready for screwing?

Chapter 14

Conchi Thorne sighed softly as she closed the door on her departing nephew. Keith had come as usual, had given his semen, and had begged again and again for the pleasure of having intercourse with her.

Keith called it fucking, a word that Conchi didn't use or like; but she was certainly getting to hear it often. It was hard to make Keith understand that she valued his services and was glad to show her nude self to him, but that was all.

This morning she had displayed the large photographs of herself, both nude and seminude. And she had paraded before Keith wearing only a see-through negligee and panties. He had become inflamed in seconds as she had seen by the erection that hugged his nude belly. In fact he had, in his sexual eagerness, come in her little glass twice before he gave up masturbating himself. That had never happened before, but the extra shot had pleased her. It was so much more for her complexion.

She began putting the photos away, aware that she must soon dress to get ready for her afternoon class at the University. The doorbell rang before she was finished. "Damn!" she murmured in annoyance, thinking it could be Keith again, wanting to beg for intercourse. She opened the door but it wasn't her nephew. It was Frank Kazarra.

"You called me?" he said, his dark Latin gaze directly on her.

"Yes, of course," Conchi stammered. "I-I didn't believe you would come until evening."

"You're one of my best tenants, Miss Thorne. You get the best service. If you have trouble I want to know about it. I'll fix it, personally."

Conchi felt her face flush. "Come in, Mr. Kazarra."

Frank stepped into the foyer and Conchi closed the door.

"You said it was the dishwasher?" he asked.

"Yes," Conchi said, embarrassingly aware of both her flush-filled face and her lack of clothing. "I start it and it stops."

"Let me take a look at it," Frank said. His eyes were fresh in the way they looked at her. "The circuit breaker must be tripping the starter; if so I'll need an electrician."

"You know where the kitchen is," Conchi said, not wanting the Italian person walking behind her, viewing her roundness with his fresh stare.

Frank started for the kitchen and Conchi followed. He stopped by the cocktail table where one of her nude photos was propped against the brandy bottle. He reached for it and held it so he could see the print and her at the same time.

"Doesn't do you justice, Miss Thorne," he said, and a huge grin softened the lines of his mouth.

"The dishwasher," Conchi said with a show of huffiness. She pulled her robe over her breasts and led the way to the kitchen.

Frank followed, seemingly fascinated by the beauties called buttocks in polite society. They moved seductively under the negligee and Frank had a hard on by the time he entered the kitchen.

Once in the room Frank became all business, and it was hard to do with a wiggling ass to think about. He started the dishwasher and listened as the load hit the circuit breaker and stopped.

"The breaker is set too low," he explained. "The ampere rate has to be changed. I'll have to send up an electrician."

Frank paused and stared at the fine body in front of him. His eyes moved from the tit mounds to the sensual curves of classic hips. The robe was thin enough to enhance the beauties his eyes were seeing.

"How long will that take?" Conchi asked, embarrassed by the man's eye-caressing of her fine sexual features.

"As soon as possible; I'll hurry him along so you can use your washer tonight."

"That will be fine," Conchi said, edging toward the door to the living room.

Frank followed, feasting his eyes on Conchi's charms. She was all woman and he'd sure like the chance to fuck her. "You know, Miss Thorne," he said, "you are all woman."

Conchi stopped and turned to face him. "I'm sorry you had to see me this way. I was about to dress when you rang."

"Think nothing of it, Miss Thorne," Frank said. "You are a fine tenant and I hope you plan to stay."

"Stay?" Conchi said.

"You've forgotten the new leases-they'll be ready next week."

"You are right, Mr. Kazarra-I did forget." Conchi hugged her negligee closer to her body. She could as well have taken it off for all it concealed. "I certainly plan to sign a new lease, Mr. Kazarra."

Frank smiled. "Good. I wouldn't want to lose my best tenant, would I?"

"I am?" Conchi said.

"If all my tenants were as agreeable as you- and as lovely-I'd be a very happy landlord."

"Why thank you, Mr. Kazarra. How nice of you to say that."

"It's true," Frank said, his cock making a bulge in the leg of his slacks. He hurried past Conchi, who followed him to the door. He opened the hall door, paused long enough to say. "I'll have the electrician here as soon as possible."

"Not until four, Mr. Kazarra," Conchi said. "I have a class this afternoon."

Frank took a last look at the charmer who was keeping his cock erect. "I'll tell him-four o'clock." And Frank was gone.

Conchi now felt more embarrassed than when Frank Kazarra had been in the apartment. What can he ever think of me? she thought. She returned from the foyer and hastily put the brazen photo away.

Conchi hurried to the bedroom and discarded robe and panties. She went into the bathroom to see her image in the full-length mirror. The glass reflected the rising thrusts of her breasts and she was surprised to see that each nipple was erect. She felt them, for she was impressed. Her nipples seldom became hard.

What has he done to me? she asked herself, for never had her nipples hardened under Keith's gaze.

Conchi continued to watch her reflection in the mirror. Her face was still flushed with embarrassment. Why the excitement? she questioned her reflection. Why can I posture so indecently in front of Keith and become nervous when Mr. Kazarra sees me in a negligee?

Was it because Keith is a boy and Frank is a man? Were his lecherous looks the cause of her excitement? Why, after all these years, should Frank Kazarra make her feel differently?

She nodded to her reflection. "I am excited!" she cried out. "Oh, no, not now!"

She tried to push all thoughts from her mind as she dressed for her appearance before her class at the University. But Frank stayed in her mind, and there, behind her desk in the classroom, a miracle happened. She could feel the crotch piece of her flesh panties become wet with-it must be sweat, she said to herself.

Chapter 15

Keith Broys was so disappointed when he left his aunt's apartment he ran down the six flights of stairs to the lobby, where he entered a coffee shop.

He ordered coffee and a roll as he sat by the counter. He was feeling extremely frustrated because of Conchi's refusal to let him fuck her. He needed to be a man, to mount a naked female and drive his passionate cock into her love box.

He sipped the hot coffee and bit into the buttered roll. He needed to change his status from that of a virgin to that of a fucker. Of course he had come close with Bettina. But sucking a girl's cunt is not penetration. He wanted to fuck, fuck, fuck.

He finished the roll and swallowed some coffee, before he became aware of the attractive black girl sitting alone in a booth. When he looked straight at her he was surprised to see her smile and beckon to him.

"You're Keith Broys, aren't you?" she asked as he sat down and placed his cup of coffee on the table.

"That's right," Keith said.

"You're also Conchi Thorne's nephew?"

"Yes, I am," Keith said, liking the girl.

They both sipped at their coffee and Keith asked, "How did you know that?"

"Easy," the girl said. She sipped more coffee before saying, "You should know me, Keith. I'm Phyllis Reger. I run the boutique across the lobby."

"Of course," Keith said. "I didn't recognize you."

"You've been in my store several times-your aunt too."

Keith nodded. Seeing her now, across the table, made Keith nervous. His shyness was coming up despite the fact that he wanted to be friendly with Phyllis Reger. She was nice.

"Relax," Phyllis said. "I won't eat you."

She laughed and her laughter made Keith feel better. He tried to be nonchalant as he looked at the mounds that pushed against her white sweater. It had a V-neck that revealed a deep cleavage. The valley promised all kinds of pleasures.

"My," Phyllis said, "that could be taken two ways."

Her breasts had made Keith dense. "What?" he said.

"I said, I won't eat you."

Keith smiled as he caught the idea. "I wouldn't mind if you did."

Phyllis swallowed some coffee, almost emptying the cup. "Something is worrying you, Keith."

"I'm not worried," Keith said.

"I can tell. It's a woman, isn't it?"

Keith looked into his coffee cup. "Maybe."

Phyllis drank the rest of her coffee and stood up. "If I can help you, Keith, ask me, I like you."

Keith watched the swing of her buttocks as she went to the cashier's desk. When she went out Keith sighed. Boy, he thought, if I had the nerve I'd ask her to fuck me. He saw her legs in a quick mind picture. For a black girl she sure had nice legs. Her flesh had seemed soft, a velvet softness. Keith stood up and walked to the cashier. He thought, her cunt must be a beauty too.

Keith paid for his roll and coffee and went out to the street. He crossed Classic Place and entered the park. He sat awhile, dreaming of fucking Phyllis' black cunt; he had thoughts of smashing his cock into his aunt's brown thatched twat. Suddenly he smote his forehead with the palm of his hand. Today he'd be with a cunt, for real!

How could he forget a priceless thing like a date with Bettina? Was he afraid of her? Did he really want to fuck her? "You silly ass!" he said out loud. "You'd crawl there for the chance to fuck her!"

It was hours before the appointment set for his fucking lesson. He killed the hours by walking downtown and back, going slowly so he could see and appreciate the few shapely legs that passed. One set was so beautiful that he followed them until the girl turned into an office building. Now his cock was up against his belly, so he entered a big department store and went to the men's room to jerk off.

He was a little early when he reached Bettina's apartment. She had promised something special, but even that did not keep him from being nervous as he pressed the button. Bettina answered the door quickly and smiled as she dragged him into the foyer.

"Hello, pet," she said. She was dressed in a hip-riding skirt of light blue with a brief vest of the same material. The skirt went all the way down to her bare feet, and between the waistband and the skimpy vest she was nude.

"Hi!" Keith said.

"Is that all you can say?"

Keith's feelings eased. "Hello, Bettina," he said.

"That's better, my pet. Now let's go into the studio."

Keith followed Bettina, watching her hips more seductively.

"Want a drink?" she asked.

"Have you more of the wine you gave me before?"

"Sherry coming up," she said and asked, "How's that cute little belly hugger today?"

"Ready, willing, and able," Keith said.

"Able to take it easy, I hope. You come too quickly. I like to feel it in me for awhile before it comes."

"I can't help it, Bettina."

"I know. Let me pour the wine, then we can talk some more. Why don't you get undressed? I like to watch that little curved banana hug your belly. I never saw another like it."

Keith undressed completely while Bettina was at the bar. This morning he had blown his come into his aunt's brandy glass and he had jerked off in the department store toilet. Now his cock hung limp against his balls.

When Bettina returned she handed a glass of sherry to Keith.

"Sit down," she said, indicating the sofa.

Keith sat down on it and placed his glass on the cocktail table. He was still a bit shy with Bettina and placed his left hand over his sex equipment.

Bettina sat down beside Keith. She sipped the wine, keeping the glass in her right hand. She reached with her left hand and pulled Keith's hand away from his soft prick.

"I want to watch it grow, pet," she said, "Now what were we talking about? Oh, yes, the way your little banana comes forth too quickly."

Bettina wet the pad of her index finger with sherry from her glass. She rubbed the wetted finger over the glans of Keith's prick. She repeated the process until the little cock stirred.

"It's so sweet I could eat it up on you."

Keith reached for his drink and sipped from the glass. "If you did that and made me come I could hold back when I fuck you."

"Listen, my pet, you are not going to fuck me, as you say." Bettina watched the disappointment cross Keith's face. "I'm going to fuck you!" she said.

Keith brightened. "You are going to fuck me?"

"Why not, pet? Haven't you been in agony for two weeks?" Keith nodded and Bettina said, "It's time you got what you came for,"

Keith drank the last of the sherry in his glass.

"Want more?" Bettina asked.

"No," Keith said. "I'd rather have you eat my cock."

"I'll eat it and tickle it a little. I don't like come in my mouth."

Keith's little prick had risen while they were talking; it lay snug against his pubic hair. "My aunt likes it," he said.

"You mean your aunt sucks you off?" Bettina asked.

"Oh, no!" Keith said. "She'd never do that!"

"So how does she get come in her mouth?"

"I jerk off for her and she catches the come in a glass."

"Why would a woman do that?"

"It's her beauty treatment."

"To each his own," Bettina said. She stood up. "Lie down."

Keith lay on his back on the sofa. Bettina finished her wine and knelt by the sofa. She lifted Keith's cock away from his belly, holding it so the curved shaft was pointing upward. With delicate fingers she walked over the sensitive skin of the six inch prick. She teased the tender head before putting her mouth over it.

By sucking the head and stroking the shaft she had Keith breathing hard in seconds. He moved his back into an arch as if to press his cock farther into Bettina's mouth. But she raised her head off the cock and began to stroke the wetted flesh for only a few seconds before a load shot over Keith's bare belly.

After his spasms quieted down Bettina said, "Now that that's over, let's have some more sherry." She lifted her skirt and wiped the semen off Keith's belly and pubic hair. "Can't have your come soil my good couch."

When she finished erasing the come from Keith she kissed the softening prick. "It isn't a great hunk of love machine," she said, "but it is cute."

Keith liked the praise. He had always felt ashamed of his little tool. "Want me to kiss your cunt?" he asked.

"Not today, pet. I have great plans for my cunt. My miracle box is going to beat your little banana to death. You're going to cry for mercy and admit that you have been fucked, but good!"

"I've wanted to fuck a girl for years," Keith said.

"You're going to be fucked, pet." Bettina went to the bar and returned with refilled sherry glasses. "You're going to watch me dance, my pet, before your little banana gets into my miracle box."

"I'll like that," Keith said, taking a glass from Bettina.

"Bring your wine and follow me," Bettina said.

Keith was all eyes as she moved toward a mirrored wall. At her bidding he sat down on the floor and waited eagerly for the show to begin.

Bettina went to a tape player and turned it on. The music started, an exotic oriental song, and Bettina began swaying slowly from side to side. Her long blue skirt moved in time to her movements.

Watching the dancing doll, Keith sat cross-legged and open mouthed, holding his glass of wine but forgetting he had it in his hand.

Bettina did a belly roll and Keith kept an eye on her navel. She was more than an excellent dancer. Her long legs and short torso put loads of grace into her performance. She pulled her skirt up waist high, knelt down and bent backward until she was flat on the floor with her forelegs and feet by the sides of her fine body. In this position her legs were parted and the cunt that was showing hypnotized Keith.

"Wow!" he said. "I'd like to fuck you in that position!"

Bettina raised herself effortlessly. "One day, maybe, but not now."

Keith sighed as Bettina rose from her knees and continued her dancing. Her hands moved with elegance as her shapely body moved in the popular style called belly dancing.

Bettina stopped, holding her hands high in an unclosed circle. Nothing moved on her now except her hips, and they moved with such speed that the naked eye couldn't record it.

Bettina could oscillate her cunt so fast that it moved from side to side six times a second. No man could watch her without wondering what her whispering cunt could do to his prick. Keith was no exception.

"Wow!" he said, wholly fascinated.

"Glad you like it, pet." Bettina said as she put her hips back into neutral. "When I move that way my cunt is a real peter-beater, a pecker-wrecker!"

"So that's what you meant!"

Bettina went to the cocktail table to drink some wine. When she returned to where Keith was sitting on the floor she said, "Well, pet, are you ready for my miracle box?"

"I've been ready for two weeks!"

"I must warn you that I may hurt you so much you won't want to fuck a girl again."

"You're kidding! Imagine me never wanting to fuck a girl!"

"It's your choice, pet."

"If that kills me I'll die happy!" Keith grinned happily.

Bettina dropped her skirt to the floor and took off the blue vest. Now naked and lovely, she ordered Keith to lie down on a small rug near the wall-to-wall ceiling-to-floor mirror.

When Keith had positioned himself parallel to the looking glass Bettina straddled him. "Can you see my dangerous weapon, pet?" she asked.

"It's beautiful," he said.

It was a nice cunt. The red-haired lips were heavy and parted. The thin lips inside could be seen now, pink and long. The vaginal opening was the kind of twat that was ideal for the work Bettina was going to put it through.

She lowered herself so she was kneeling astride Keith's body. She faced him and asked, "Are you ready to lose your cherry, pet?"

Keith was more than excited now. He could only whisper "Yes." His eyes were busy on Bettina's body, caressing her red-nippled breasts, her bellybutton, coming to rest on the patch of copper-red hair above her cunt.

"No feeling me, pet," she said. "Just place your hands under your head and pray."

Keith did as he was told.

"Are you ready, pet?"

"I'm burning up!"

Bettina felt for Keith's stiff prick. She raised it, pointing the head at her cunt. Slowly she lowered her hips until the prick touched the opening of her vaginal passage. Without a moment's hesitation she sat down on it, her cunt utterly gobbling the poor little banana.

"Wow!" Keith exclaimed as his prick for the first time in his young life felt the inside of a girl's cunt. "That feels like heaven!"

Bettina didn't move. Her cunt lips cradled the little prick while her vagina worked on it. She had six hundred muscles in her body and she had developed one par excellence: the one that surrounded her vaginal portal. Keith could feel the muscles firm up, could feel the hardness of Bettina's buttocks as they rested on his thighs. He became more excited than a Holy Roller.

"How would you like me to torment your little banana with my peter-beater, my pet?"

"Do! Do!" Keith cried. He was already working hard to keep from coming.

Bettina raised herself slightly and oscillated her cunt so it began beating the little prick that was in it. The action was too much for Keith. He actually yelled as his sperm shot up into Bettina's vacillating cunt.

"You're killing me!" he yelled as his legs stretched out to their full extent and his toes began a flexing movement.

But Bettina didn't stop. Her miracle box moved with great rapidity as her vaginal muscles gripped Keith's prick as if it were in a vice. The little fellow in the dark hole of hell had no chance against such a grip, and before it had a chance to soften it was forced to remain hard by the pecker-wrecker that held it.

"Damn!" Keith yelled. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

Bettina's cunt continued to torture the prick it was holding. The little prick was again forced to shoot another load of soup up into the dark recesses of the miracle box which had no sympathy for it. It went on so quickly that the eye couldn't count the number of times it moved in a seeming desire to rip the little prick right off its bag of balls.

"Cunto! Cunto! Cunto!" Keith screamed.

Bettina heard nothing. Her eyes were closed and her breath increased to moans. She was sitting on heaven. Now the vaginal muscles tightened more around the shaft in her sheath. All thoughts in her mind were erased by the sensuous delights she was feeling in her cunt. She was like an automaton, working for only one purpose: orgasm after orgasm!

Bettina had counted four orgasms since Keith had shot his first load into her cunt. She couldn't stop; the feeling was too good to let go of. Moving, moving, moving; trying to speed up her peter-beating twat. She had two more orgasms before Keith cried again.

"You're killing me!" he yelled. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"

The muscles in his buttocks strained; his toes curled and uncurled, his fists tightened under his head, but he didn't struggle to get out from under the torment of the miracle box!

Bettina could feel Keith's third hot load shoot upward into the heights of her wondrous feelings as she had her final spasms. Tuned up so high, she had trouble getting her muscles to cease their movements of her body. When at last they quieted down she could feel Keith's triple load moving down the passage between his prick and her vaginal walls. She remained quiet, with eyes closed, savoring the wonderful stimulation that was ebbing from her nerve ends.

The come was now soaking Keith's pubic hair; going down between his legs where his balls were hanging. The wetness made Bettina open her eyes, and when she did she was amazed by what she was seeing.

Keith had fainted!

Chapter 16

The chance meeting with Keith Broys in the Coffee Shop had given Phyllis Reger lots to think about. Honest with herself at all times, she had been aware that something vital was missing in her relationship with Frank Kazarra.

She acknowledged that Frank was a man, all male, and he could perform like one. But he was an older Italian who believed sex was the man's prerogative.

Frank would no more consider sucking on her baby than he would let her suck his prick. And that was the something that was missing in her erotic, lust-filled relationship with Frank.

Phyllis realized that her great desire had to be satisfied. And why not by a young boy who was far from sophisticated? A boy like Keith who couldn't cross words with her when she had said, in the Coffee Shop, that she wouldn't eat him up.

She was now inflamed by the thought of Keith sucking on her little baby. She could visualize Keith on his knees before her, begging for the chance to take her unusual clit in his mouth.

The fantasy caused Phyllis' little baby to emerge from its cape of flesh, demanding attention. Its sensitivity was so great that the touch of her white nylon panty was sufficient to excite Phyllis to her sexual need.

In fact, Phyllis was becoming so crazy with her sexual desire that it had to be served somehow, and lustfully. She was therefore desperate. So desperate that she was ready to do anything to get the kind of relief she wanted so badly.

The cloudless sky was a deep blue with the sun making the April day bright when Phyllis entered the Coffee Shop and sat alone in a booth. It was the last Saturday of the month and she had much to do with her stock that morning.

Phyllis ordered coffee and an English muffin with marmalade. Her mind was on the work she had to do when someone behind her said, "Good morning, Phyllis."

Phyllis turned and her heart jumped. Keith Broys was standing in the aisle behind her.

"How nice to see you again, Keith," she said.

"May I join you?"

"Please do," Phyllis said eagerly.

Keith slid into the booth across from Phyllis. When the waitress came with Phyllis' coffee and muffin he ordered coffee and a cheese pastry.

"It's a nice day," Keith said.

"Beautiful," Phyllis agreed. It sure is, she thought. With Keith so close and her desire so immediate her little baby began to stir.

"What brings you here so early on a Saturday?" she asked.

"I couldn't sleep."

"A young man like you should be able to sleep peacefully."

"I do, usually, but I had an experience last night that kept me awake."

"Was it a good experience, Keith?"

"Out of this world!" Keith said, his eyes shining.

The waitress placed Keith's order on the table. As Keith bit into his cheese pastry Phyllis said, "Now don't tell me it was sex?"

Keith smiled. "How did you guess?"

Phyllis smiled too. She took a bit of her muffin and washed it down with some hot coffee. She said, "You seem more relaxed today; not uptight like you were yesterday."

"I'm a man today!" Keith said, and he proved it by looking boldly at Phyllis' breasts.

"Weren't you a man yesterday?" Phyllis asked, noting Keith's interest in her bustline.

Keith bit into his Danish pastry and chewed it up. He swallowed some coffee and said, "Not quite."

"Explain," Phyllis said.

"Can't," Keith said, laughing.

"Come now, Keith, you can tell Phyllis."

"I'd like to because I'm bursting with the experience."

"Why don't you?" Phyllis tried to look like a priest in a confessional.

"It's personal, and degrading, that's why."

"Oh come on, Keith, sex is a fine thing to enjoy."

"You can bet it is, Phyllis." He thought: Imagine, me passing out at my first fuck!

"Keith," Phyllis said.

"I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

"You looked like you were miles away."

"I wasn't," Keith said. "I was right in this building."

"Oh?" Phyllis saw her chance. "Want to tell me about it?"

They were eating and drinking as they talked. Keith drank some coffee and said, "I can't talk about my experience. Not that kind."

Phyllis drank the last of her coffee. What Keith had just said triggered.her determination to have him suck on her baby. He evidently wouldn't talk about any of his girl relationships. It made her feel good: she was going to seduce him. But would he do it?

"What are your plans for today?" she asked.

"I haven't any," Keith lied. He had come to the Coffee Shop with the hope of seeing Bettina. He was very anxious for another session with her miracle box.

"Will you come to the Boutique with me?" Phyllis asked.

"Why not," Keith said. "I have nothing: else to do."

"You can help me." She paid for Keith's and her own breakfast. Keith objected but Phyllis shushed him up. "This is liberation time, remember?"

Keith laughed. "Thank you, Ms Reger!"

The thought came to Keith of why he wasn't shy with this black girl. Was it the color of her skin? Did he unconsciously believe he was better than she was? But no. He liked black persons; the good ones. So it must be her manner of speaking; her personality; her way of making him feel in tune with her.

"Equal rights." Phyllis laughed softly. "Now we women can do what you men can do."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Keith said as he followed Phyllis to her store.

Phyllis unlocked the door and opened it. When they were inside she closed the door and locked it.

"Being here reminds me," Keith said. "I want to buy a scarf for a friend."

Phyllis went to the counter where the cash register was. She placed her pocketbook under the counter and took off the white suit coat she was wearing. Her breasts strained at the dark blue pull-over sweater she had on today.

She went to a cubby hole to hang up the suit coat. Keith followed her. He was fascinated by her bulging tits.

"Like them?" Phyllis asked when she caught Keith watching her.

"I'm sorry," Keith said. "I shouldn't stare."

"I don't mind, really. Look at them all you want. Now what did you say about a scarf?"

"I want to buy one for a friend," Keith said.

"That nice friend of last night's experience?"

"Yes."

"Well you can't buy one in my store," Phyllis said.

"Why?"

"I'll trade you for a scarf."

"I don't have anything to trade."

"You'd be surprised what I want," Phyllis said.

Keith looked intently at her and she said, "Oh, hell! I feel sort of lonely and I'd like you to have dinner with me in my apartment tonight."

Keith looked amazed. "You want me in your apartment tonight?"

Phyllis looked eagerly at Keith, "Will you?"

"What could keep me away?"

"Then you'll come." Keith laughed. "Don't say that."

"Maybe that too," Phyllis said. "Come at seven, and please walk up. I don't want anyone to see you enter my apartment. It's 2-B by the way."

"I'll be there sharp," Keith promised. When he left with his expensive scarf-a present for Bettina-he had all kinds of thoughts about what could happen in a black girl's pad.

So did Phyllis. She was so busy with her thoughts that she neglected working on her stock. It was five minutes before seven when Phyllis let Keith into her apartment. "Would you like a drink, Keith?" she asked.

"Do you have sherry?"

"No," Phyllis said, "but I do have Chianti."

"Fine," Keith said. He had been feasting his eyes on breasts that would make a sailor think of two 40mm shells.

"I'll get some," Phyllis said, adding, "Make yourself comfortable, Keith."

When she returned Keith was sitting on her green velvet sofa. "Here," she said, handing him a wine glass.

"Are you hungry?" she asked Keith.

"Not starved, really." Keith sipped his wine.

"Still thinking about last night?" Phyllis sat down on the sofa by Keith.

"Not really. I've been thinking about you."

"Were they nice thoughts?"

"Certainly. How else would I think about you?"

"Not sex!" Phyllis laughed softly and patted Keith's knee.

"Sometimes I wonder how I do so well at the University when my mind is crowded with sex."

"I'm not hungry either," Phyllis said. "With sex on your mind, would you like to play-like with sex?"

"Wow!" Keith said. "That's what I hoped for!"

"Are you a breastman, Keith?"

Keith's face flushed. "I looked at yours, didn't I?"

"They were covered. Now do you want to see them bare?"

"May I suck on them?"

"Of course! That's what a breast is for, silly."

Phyllis turned her back. "Unzip me," she said.

With fingers that trembled Keith pulled down the zipper and Phyllis took off the white blouse she was wearing. She was braless.

"Put your arms around me, Keith. Don't look, just feel them."

With her back against him Keith cupped the magnificent tits in his hands. He moved his hands so the touch of the soft black flesh nourished his prick so it began to rise within his slacks.

"They're like velvet," he said, squeezing the mounds.

Phyllis turned to face Keith. "Now you may suck them," she said.

Keith got down on his knees while Phyllis moved to sit on the edge of the sofa. Keith got between her legs and began kissing the black beauties with a fervor that made Phyllis think how well-he would suck her baby.

Keith fingered one breast while his mouth was busy on the other. Phyllis' tactile corpuscles were on the move. Her little baby was stirring in its cave of flesh. She loved it so much.

"You're a good sucker, Keith," she said. She patted him on the head. "A real good sucker."

Keith moved his mouth to the other nipple. He said nothing. Why talk when he could fill his mouth with black velvet flesh?"

Phyllis felt her nipples become harder. She was ready to break the news to Keith, but she hesitated. What would she say? Then she said it quickly. "Would you like to suck something else?"

Keith kept the rosy nipple in his mouth. He wondered if he had heard right.

"Well, do you?" Phyllis said.

Keith released the nipple. "What did you say?"

"I said-oh, hell, Keith, I want my little baby sucked!"

"Baby?" Keith said. "What baby?"

Phyllis held Keith's face in her hands.

"My clit, my clitoris, my baby!"

"Is that what you call it?"

"Yes."

"Sure, I'll kiss it if it will make you happy."

Phyllis planted her lips on Keith's forehead. "You're a doll," she said. "Wait here, drink your wine. I'll get ready."

"Do we have to hurry?" Keith asked.

"We can take all night if you like." She knew she didn't have to worry about Frank; he was in Los Angeles.

While Phyllis was out of the room Keith made a quick phone call to his mother, telling her that he was staying overnight with a friend. He was back on the sofa drinking his wine when Phyllis returned.

Except for the golden slippers on her feet, she was nude. Her black body glistened in the lamplight, sending instant waves of passion through every fiber of Keith's loins. She posed her sensual body in front of him, lifted her big tits with her hands, then let her touch glide down over her belly to the black triangle of coarse black hair.

Phyllis walked to the center of the room. "Come," she said.

Keith went quickly to her, "Will I pass inspection?" she asked.

"One hundred percent!"

"Then get down on your knees, Keith, and suck on my little baby!"

"I will," Keith said, "but I want to see your cunt first."

"No words like that, Keith. I don't like them."

"I'm sorry, Phyllis."

"You didn't know I don't like them. Come on into the bedroom."

Keith followed Phyllis into her white and gold room. "Take off your clothes, Keith."

Keith began removing his shirt and slacks. "Don't expect a heavy piece of equipment," he said.

"I don't really care what kind of equipment you have as long as you'll suck my baby."

"I will," Keith said. He turned his back to take off his shorts. When he had them off Phyllis said, "Turn around, I want to see what you have."

Keith made a cautious turn.

"Well, look at that!" Phyllis said. "Come here so I can touch it."

Keith went to the bed on which Phyllis was sitting. She said, "I have never seen a stick like this. It's so uptight against your belly."

Keith was ashamed of his penis. "It's little," he said.

Phyllis fingered the little stick, as she called it.

"You must be used to big ones."

"Do you believe that myth that all black men have large ones?"

"Don't they?"

"Not all of them." Phyllis' absentminded stroking of Keith's cock had brought on the pleasant feeling that comes only seconds before the discharge of semen.

"I'm coming!" Keith said. His voice was harsh as the charge of come shot through his pubic hair, up as far as his navel.

"Boy, you're sensitive!" Phyllis said. She laughed at Keith's predicament. "Take my panty and rub off that stuff."

Keith took the panty from the pile of clothes, on the bed and wiped himself clean. Without thinking he held the crotch piece to his nose.

"How do I smell?" Phyllis asked.

"Clean and perfumy," Keith said as he placed the dainty material on the bed.

"No more talking now," Phyllis said. "You want to see me, kneel down."

When Keith knelt down Phyllis raised her legs and held them apart. Keith looked with awe on the first black cunt he had ever seen. He thought it was beautiful, and he said so. "It is very beautiful."

Phyllis laughed. "No man has ever called it beautiful. I think it's terrible."

Keith finger-traced the triangle of coarse hair which was above the confluence of the major lips.

"It's real nice," Keith said. What had surprised him was that the lush black lips of her vulva held between them the inner lips. They were like a streak of brilliant carmine and were wonderful to behold.

Keith ran an index finger down the red lips that seemed to be peeking out at him. He used his thumbs and parted the large lips. Their inner walls were bluish in color. The red inner lips remained together and upright. He bent forward to kiss them.

"No, boy, no!" Phyllis said. She sat up, pushing Keith's head away from her cunt.

It was then Keith noticed the little thing coming out of some fold of flesh above the red lips. He watched it move outward and downward until it was almost two inches long. It looked like a very tiny prick to him. He pointed to it. "Is that your baby?"

Phyllis stood up and walked around Keith. He turned on his knees to face her. "That's my baby," Phyllis said, "and you're going to suck it!"

"I want to," Keith said eagerly.

Phyllis placed her hands on her small waist and bent slightly backward to bring her belly forward.

"Suck it, boy," she commanded. "Suck my little baby!"

Keith moved closer to Phyllis' cunt. With his hands held behind his back he took the baby into his mouth and began a slow and pleasureful sucking of the clit that looked like a prick.

Keith's attention to the baby made its vessels swell and the nerve ends began to make it tingle.

Phyllis moaned softly. It was better than all her fantasies. For here she was at last, standing nude before a white man who was on his knees, sucking on her baby! Oh, lord, she thought, how long have I wanted this? She breathed softly.

"Suck it, boy. Suck it!"

Keith sucked it. His prick had risen again, hugging his belly in a curve against it.

Phyllis groaned this time. It felt so good. And the familiar contractions were on their way.

"Suck it, boy, suck," she said loudly as her little baby throbbed against Keith's lips.

Keith kept the pulsing clit in his mouth and looked up. Phyllis' face was almost white; her lips were compressed and her hands were busy squeezing her wonderful breasts.

"Stop!" she commanded.

Keith let go of her baby and watched it. It began to lose its congested state as the throbbing ceased. It became smaller and smaller and returned to its hood of flesh like a small snail with a bit of its tail showing.

Phyllis reached the end of her quivering and moaning and looked down at Keith. She put her hands on his head and said. "That was beautiful, Keith. It was marvelous. It was superb. It was terrific!"

"How did your baby feel?" he asked.

"Like more," Phyllis said.

Keith stood up. "Look at me?" he said. "My, that little thing is ready again!"

"He's never satisfied, Phyllis."

"Let's see what we can do." Phyllis lay on the bed with her legs spread.

Keith stood still and looked at Phyllis as she lay_ in a position to receive him. She was a black doll for sure.

"Come on, Keith," Phyllis said. "Cover me."

Keith climbed on the bed between the black legs. He lay down upon the doll, feeling her breasts squash beneath his chest. He felt under his body to guide his prick into the black hole.

"Put it in," Phyllis said.

"It is in!" Keith said.

"Well, start to go, man! Don't just lay there, give us some action!"

Keith began his sexual rhythm. It was then he felt Phyllis squeeze the muscular tissue at the mouth of her vagina. It gripped his cock as he worked it in and out. In seconds he shot his load as muscular contractions shook his body and he yelled, "Cunto! Cunto! Cunto!"

"Man," Phyllis said as she put her arms around Keith, "that thing is sure sensitive."

"I wish it weren't," Keith said. "I can't stay long enough to enjoy the pleasant feeling."

"We've got all night, Keith, so if your thing can rise again we'll do it again and again and again." Phyllis stroked his hair and said, "If you can get him up I can open my legs."

Keith got off Phyllis' belly and the bed. He stood waiting for her. She said as she too got off the bed, "Let's take a shower together and then we'll eat."

"I'm ready," Keith said.

They had fun in the shower. He washed her black cunt and she washed his little prick. They toweled themselves and didn't bother to dress. Off they went to her red and white kitchen where they ate.

Phyllis had cooked some fried chicken. She placed it on the table with some wine.

"This Chianti is good," Keith said as he looked at Phyllis' breasts across the table.

Phyllis didn't explain about the relationship between Frank Kazarra and herself. She said, "How often do you get to eat chicken and drink wine in the nude?"

"Never," Keith said. He chewed on the leg of a chicken and when his mouth was empty he said, "I told you my mind is always on sex."

Phyllis was sipping her wine. "Don't tell me you've thought of something to do?"

Keith laughed at the thought he had seen in his mind.

"Tell me what is so funny," Phyllis said.

"Has your baby ever had intercourse with a penis?" Keith laughed again.

"You've flipped, man," Phyllis said. "You're a noodle-doodle."

"No, I mean it," Keith said. "Want to try?"

"My baby is" so sensitive and long I believe I could if I found a willing thing to do it to."

"Mine is willing," Keith said. He washed down some chicken with some wine. "Want to try it?"

"Why not? It will be something very unusual. But what do you have in mind?"

Phyllis stood up quite willingly and Keith knelt down with happiness shining on his face. He licked the lips where the little clit was hidden. As he continued to lick the little baby came out of hiding. It slanted downward as his own prick climbed up against his belly.

Phyllis stood there with her belly thrust out. "Suck it, boy!"

"Push your belly out more," Keith said.

Phyllis arched her back so her baby stood out. It slanted downward as if eager for the experience. Keith handled his cock so it slanted toward Phyllis' clitoris. He worked it so her stiffened clit was against the peehole on his cock. He pushed-and Phyllis' baby went neatly into the head of his prick!

"Keith," Phyllis said, "doesn't that hurt you?"

"No," Keith assured her as he forced the clitoris completely into the hole on the red head of his penis. "When I was younger I put cotton swabs in it and shot them out when I came."

"Stop talking, boy!" Phyllis said sharply. "Let this black girl's baby have intercourse with that white thing!"

Now Keith held his prick erect and still while Phyllis, with her hands on Keith's shoulders, moved her hips so her baby could fuck the white boy's thing. She began to moan faintly as she worked her hips to and fro. Soon the moaning became a sound of sensual enjoyment as the tender little rod began to throb.

Her eyes were closed and her face was turning into a gray color when she let go of Keith's shoulders and put her hands on her breasts. The orgasm that came sent shivers throughout her body.

While this was happening to her Keith was busy jerking off. He was being careful to keep the little rod into his peehole. As Phyllis' face turned white he let out a cry of pleasure and his load of sperm soup shot upward and bathed the little clit as it popped out of the hole.

"Wow!" Keith said. "That's fucking!"

When she returned to normal Phyllis said, "I'd never in a year of Sundays believe that my baby could do that to you!"

"And I only thought of it on the spur of the moment!" Keith said happily.

"It was wonderful," Phyllis said. "I never had a sensation like that. It made me feel-uptight."

"Want to do it again?" Keith asked.

"Let's go to bed first and rest awhile, Keith. I want my baby sucked again."

"I'd like that," Keith said. He followed Phyllis into her bedroom. They both crawled into bed and he held Phyllis close in his arms with her fine tits squashed against his chest. They had fitful naps through the night, each one ending in some kind of sex play. But one thing Phyllis couldn't do: get down on her knees and suck Keith's prick. But Keith was not disappointed. He sucked the baby again and again, and as often as his prick could stand it went into the black-lipped hole of his charming black partner.

Sunday came forth sunny and warm. It was a great day for Keith; he forgot Bettina as he sucked and screwed on a velvet skinned black girl in her elegant pad!

Chapter 17

Keith had been seeing his aunt for weeks to give her the special treatment she desired. He had put his come into her little brandy glass by jerking off. And during all those weeks he had lusted for his aunt's precious cunt!

Today it was going to be different. He was a man now, indeed. Hadn't he fucked Bettina's vibrating cunt? And Phyllis' willing twat? Didn't he now possess the nerve to force his aunt into a real fucking session? You bet!

From the very first time he had shot his come into the glass he had wanted to fuck his aunt's tempting body. She had shown it to him for real and in large photos. She had made his ejaculations come faster by thus revealing herself to him. Today he would give his come to her-right up her cunt where it belonged.

Keith's thoughts kept him from smiling as he pressed the button outside Conchi's apartment. He was going to fuck her today and it was going to be a big deal, come hell or the devil himself.

His confidence was all in the small white capsule in his pants pocket. The capsule contained a white, quickly dissolving powder. It was tasteless, potent, and the newest drug in the field of anesthetics. He had stolen it from his father's drug cabinet while the good doctor and his nurse were in the waiting room talking to a patient.

Keith rang again, standing impatiently until his aunt opened the door. "Hello, Keith," she said. "I was on the telephone."

"That's okay, auntie," Keith said. He kissed Conchi on the cheek. "I've got all day."

"No you haven't," Conchi said. "I have things to do so I don't want you around."

Keith didn't answer because he was looking at the expensive robe Conchi had on. It was floor length with a full zipper in front. Conchi's soft slippers matched the blueberry color of the robe.

"I want you to leave early, Keith," Conchi said.

"You look nice in that, auntie. I like seeing you undressed."

Conchi folded her arms under her breasts. "My robe covers me," she said rather haughtily.

"Sure it does," Keith agreed, "but you're naked under it."

"I will show you when you are ready to start-why don't you undress?"

Keith took his time. At last he pushed his shorts down so he was nude. His cock hung down, resting against his balls.

"Don't tell me," Conchi said, laughing. "It can't be true!"

"What can't?" Keith asked.

"Your penis is soft!"

Keith postured in front of his aunt. "Get your brandy glass ready, auntie, and don't worry about my cock. It had a great workout last week!"

Conchi went to the bar for her brandy glass and bottle. She placed them on the' coffee table and sat down on the couch. With her freedom assured for awhile she unzipped the long robe and pulled it open. As Keith had guessed, she was naked today. No bra. No panty. The sensual view unobstructed.

The effect on Keith was almost instant. His prick stiffened and almost at once he began to finger it. He said, "Let's see your cunt if you want me to come quickly."

Conchi braced herself against the back of the couch, raised her hips and opened her legs. For a woman of fifty the action came easily. Keith jerked faster on his prick as his eyes devoured the cunt he was at last going to fuck. How he lusted for it!

Keith let go of his cock and cried, "I'm coming, auntie!"

Conchi bent the belly hugger downward and capped it with her little glass. Keith's sperm-laden come shot from his prick and Conchi milked it to the last before she poured brandy into the glass. She swirled the mixture around in the bowl shaped container.

"You are different today, Keith." Conchi gulped the mixture of brandy and semen down. "You haven't said you wanted intercourse with me."

"Why should I? I fucked two girls last week."

Conchi's robe was still open, revealing her gorgeous tits and the brown hair on her twat. "I am glad," she said. "Now you won't pester me."

"Maybe I won't have to," Keith said.

Conchi poured another shot of brandy into her glass. "What does that mean?" she asked, replacing the bottle on the table.

"I'll get dressed," Keith said.

The chimes sounded and Conchi said, "Oh, dear-that must be Eno. He said he would fix the lock on my door."

I'll fix your lock, Keith thought. As his aunt went to the foyer Keith drew the white capsule from a pocket in his slacks which he had just finished putting on. He broke the capsule open and poured the contents into Conchi's glass of brandy. He stirred it with his finger. That should do the trick, he thought.

Conchi returned as he was putting on his shirt. She was alone and now his excitement was hard to hide.

"I asked Eno to return later," she said. "Isn't it time for you to go?"

"I'll go, auntie," Keith said docilely. But he didn't move. He stood in fascinated silence as Conchi picked up the drugged brandy and swallowed the contents of the little glass.

"Thank you, Keith," Conchi said and her voice was almost a whisper. "Thank you for not… "

The rest of the sentence was never finished. Conchi went limp and Keith caught her and eased her body to the floor. When he had her laid out on her back with her blue robe wide open he felt a pang of regret. He knelt by his aunt's side. He slapped the rounded curves of her cheeks slightly.

"Auntie, auntie," Keith said. "I didn't mean to do it-I didn't!"

Conchi's face turned pale as her pulse slowed down. She did not react to Keith's slaps. Nor did she stir. Keith said aloud, "God, I do want to fuck you, auntie!"

He began to caress the hair on Conchi's cunt, then pulled his hand away quickly. He spread his aunt's legs as wide as he could in lustful action. He didn't stop to undress but pulled his soft prick from his slacks and lay down between the opened legs so he could examine the cunt he wanted to fuck.

Conchi's pubic hair was thick and brown. With her legs spread so wide the thick lips of her cunt had parted, showing the virginal opening.

Keith lost all sense of time as he looked in fascination at the twat so neatly exposed. He was going to use it at last. He touched the place where the clitoris should be, for it was unseen in its robe of flesh. He placed the pad of his finger against the pouty meatus. Then he put the same finger against the vaginal opening and pushed it inside. It didn't feel so tight as he imagined-it would be. Pushing himself forward, he kissed as much of the cunt as he could. Then he mounted his aunt's unconscious body, ready at last to fuck lustfully at the virgin gate.

Keith felt under him. He grabbed at his cock and broke into a cold sweat. It was softer than butter!

"God damn it!" he cursed. With all his preparation he was limp as he laid on his aunt's body. The body was erotically positioned, ready for penetration, yet he remained as impotent as if he, himself, had taken the anesthetic!

In frustration he pushed Conchi's thighs farther apart and shoved his genitals against his aunt's pubic mound. He ground them painfully against her soft flesh, hoping he would get a hard on.

"I'm fucking you, auntie, I'm fucking you," he cried out.

But it was a lie. The enormity of what he had done was more powerful than his lust. He had tried to rape his aunt. He had drugged her into unconsciousness. He had opened her blue robe. And he had mounted her!

He had done everything, yet he failed to do what he so lustfully desired. Overcome by an increasing fear, he rose to his feet, pushed his useless cock into his slacks, and bolted from the apartment, leaving his aunt on the floor.

Keith raced down the stairwell like a criminal. He was scared-and he was a criminal!

Chapter 18

Eno Yaw returned to the elevator where Herman Weeks, the morning operator, was waiting for him.

"Take me down," Eno said. "She ain't ready for me yet-'bout twenty minutes she says."

"You promised me I could go," Herman protested. "I gotta date!"

"You can wait till I'm finished with Miss Thorne. That lock of hers is in bad shape; needs real fixin."

"Come on, Eno, I gotta date!"

"Don't know how long it will take to fix," Eno said, "so you better call your date."

"What for?" Herman asked.

"Tell her you'll be late."

"Suck it, you old bastard," Herman said. He noticed the sly look on Eno's lips. "What are you grinning like a goat for? Gonna get in that blonde and mighty Miss Thorne?"

"It ain't likely, Herman," Eno said. "She's something very special-but that don't mean I couldn't want to fuck her!"

"What's making your lips smack then?" Herman asked.

"Can't tell yet, Herman," Eno said as the elevator reached the first floor. "She may be walking around half-naked!"

"Could be, Eno," Herman said.

Eno spent a half hour in his room thinking about the beautiful suck off his teeny-bopper had given him the past Saturday. She had worked on Yam like a professional; had licked him off like he was a lollypop. The hundred he had given her was worth it. Her lips had been soft and moist and she had swallowed Yam's come like it was a thing she was used to. Next Saturday, for another hundred, he was going to fuck her in the ass. He just hoped his money would hold out.

He returned to the elevator and Herman took him up to the sixth floor. Herman said, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Eno."

"Yeah," Eno replied. He went to Conchi's apartment, carrying the needed tools. Eno pushed the button of Apartment 6-B. There was no answer. He watched Herman close the elevator door and then pushed the button again. It was then he noticed that the door was not closed as it should be.

Pushing the door open Eno called, "Miss Thorne?" He walked through the foyer and saw Conchi Thorne lying on the floor by the sofa. He went to her promptly and knelt down by her side. He felt for her pulse like he had seen nurses do it on television. He couldn't find it. Eno rubbed Conchi's forehead. It felt cold to his touch. He pushed one of Conchi's eyelids up, but he was far from being a doctor and couldn't analyze what he saw. But what he could analyze was the almost naked body lying on the floor.

Eno hurried to the door and closed it so the lock snapped into place. He started back, then hesitated. He sure could get his ass into more trouble than a fly in a spider's web. But the thought of Conchi lying almost nude made Yam's shaft thicken. That was all Eno needed.

Eno hurried to Conchi's side. "Twould be a shame to waste it," he said softly. He walked to where Conchi's admirable legs were widely spread. "What a box!" he said in genuine admiration.

Eno knelt down again, this time between the spread legs. "God damn," he said, "she should be fucked!"

He couldn't resist fingering the cunt he had longed to screw for too many months. He was tense with excitement; yet the fear of being caught hovered in the background of his mind.

The fingering of the full-lipped twat had served to stiffen Yam, making him ready for action. He pulled his fat prick from his pants and said, "How'd you like to fuck that pussy, Yam?"

Eno cast all discretion behind him and laid down upon the lovely inert body of Conchi Thorne. He fumbled around until he had his cock lined up with the cunt, then he whammed his Yam into it with all the pleasure a man feels when his prick is sucked by a girl with an oblong mouth.

Eno was in heaven. He pushed his nine inch prick into Conchi's twat and pulled it out again. He diddled and diddled and diddled and found pleasure in fucking the queen of the building. But almost too quickly he felt the mysterious prickling that was the signal that an ejaculation was on its way up the shaft.

Now Eno couldn't control himself. He spoke to his prick. "Attaboy, Yam! Give it to her!"

Eno pumped and continued, "Shoot your load right up her hole so she can taste it!"

He felt Yam throbbing in the fleshy cave as his semen went forth to sully what had only minutes before been a holy sexual paradise.

But seconds later fear took over. Thoughts came. Yam was forgotten. What if she should die? What if they catch me?

Eno rose with alacrity; the same kind Keith had shown when he felt remorseful about drugging his aunt. It was then that Eno saw the blood. There wasn't much of it, but it was blood. It was on Yam; it was on the cunt Yam had just fucked. "Oh, my god!" Eno exclaimed. "Yam's ruptured her!"

Eno shoved Yam back into his pants and went hastily down the three flights of stairs to Apartment 3-C. He knocked on the door. Doris Classman opened it.

"Why, Eno," Doris said. "What is-the matter with you? You're white as a ghost!"

"Is the doc in? Is he here?" Eno blurted out.

"Gab?" Doris said. "Why yes he's here. I'll call him."

Doris left Eno standing by the door and called, "Gab-somebody wants to see you. It's Eno."

Gabriel Monthor came to the door. "Christ," he said, "you look awful, Eno!"

Eno motioned Gab to come out into the hall. "I went up to Miss Thorne's apartment-she's in trouble!"

"Take it easy," Gab said. "What kind of trouble?"

"She's lying on the floor!"

"So?"

"She's on the floor unconscious, doc!"

"Why why didn't you say so, man?"

"She's in trouble, doc!"

"Go back to your elevator," Gab said. "I'll take a look."

He walked rapidly to the exit and went up the stairs two at a time. He pushed the door open and almost ran to where Conchi lay on the floor. He squatted down and felt her pulse. He opened one eyelid.

"Drugged," he said to himself. He diagnosed the case as one that time alone would heal. And having reached his verdict he let pleasure flood him as he looked at Conchi with unprofessional admiration. At last he realized that he was alone in the room with the belle of the apartment house-and she was all laid out, ready to be fucked!

"Well, damn my black soul," he said aloud. "He screwed her and ran down to get me."

Gab knelt down between the fine legs and felt the hair on the pubic region. He thumbed the fat lips apart to watch the semen ooze from the vaginal passage. He saw the flecks of blood on the twat. Can't be, he mused. He examined the cunt more closely.

"Well, damn my black soul!" Gab said, "There isn't enough blood to say the old bastard punctured her-so she must have been a virgin!"

With quick decision Gab rose and went to the foyer. He closed the door, making sure the faulty lock caught. His cock was on its way up so he took it from his slacks and walked with it in his hand back to Conchi.

"Man," he said to himself, "you're a lucky stiff!"

Gab knelt down again between Conchi's legs. He talked to her. "Woman, you are about to get a black cock shoved right into your guts!"

His hard prick made an easy entrance into Conchi's Yam-ravaged cunt. Gab placed his body on top of Conchi's and without using his hands he pushed his long prick against her cunt. He felt the deliciousness of penetration as all eight inches of the shaft responded to the pressure of Gab's hips. He could feel the head pushing against the wall of the pocket below the uterus.

With slow and measured movements Gab's prick fucked the red-lined hole that had never felt a cock in it. Now Gab didn't use his very precious talent of being able to hold back his orgasm. He fucked Conchi with pleasurable relish. He had dreamed his dream again and again with no hope that one day it would come true.

Soon he began to feel the contractions that would propel his sperm into Conchi's unmoving box which, until only a very short time ago, had been as clean as a washed cherry.

Gab began grunting like a pig until his heavy breathing changed the grunts into one big word: "Bitch!" he said as his fluid poured out against the cavity wall.

"Bitch!" he said again. But this time he said it lovingly. He moved so he could plant his lips on Conchi's. He put his tongue into her slack mouth and let some of his saliva wet the dryness inside. He continued to tongue Conchi's mouth with enough French kisses to float her tongue. In instant thought he knew he had to get out of the apartment. There was a chance she might become conscious; then all hell would break loose for him.

Gab wiped his softening cock on Conchi's blue robe and left the apartment. Eno, with the elevator door open, was waiting for him. "How is she, doc?" he asked.

Gab entered the elevator. "She'll be all right. Don't worry. I put her to bed," Gab lied. He looked Eno square in the eyes. "She's been drugged," he said.

"Drugged?" Eno said.

"Yes, drugged," Gab said. "And I found traces of semen on her vulva; blood too. Did you screw Miss Thorne, Eno?"

"Not me," Eno said too quickly. "Not me! I only felt her pulse and then skiddled down after you!"

"Really?"

"I didn't fuck her!" Eno lied.

"I'll bet you didn't," Gab said sarcastically.

"I wouldn't touch that nice woman," Gab said.

Eno opened the elevator door on the third floor. Gab said, "It will be better if you don't mention this to anyone, understand?"

"Long's you say she's okay," Eno said, "I'll just keep my mouth shut."

Gab patted Eno on the shoulder. "I still think you screwed Miss Thorne, Eno."

"How'd I know you didn't, doc?"

"You don't anymore than I know you did." Gab stepped out of the elevator. He said, "She certainly made a man feel like screwing her."

"Ain't that the truth, doc?"

Chapter 19

Frank Kazarra carried his bag to the lot where his Cadillac was parked. It was dusty from exposure during the days Frank had been in Los Angeles.

The flight back had seemed long, but Frank felt little fatigue. He had closed an exciting deal that could net him close to two hundred thousand after taxes.

Some years before he had gone in with other developers on a Laguna Beach condominium project, which was now paying off handsomely. Frank now felt that he and work could part company. He had gained enough to take it easy from here on in. He could travel, play golf, and screw. The last made Frank restless. He had reached the age when a bachelor should settle down with a woman who could make him feel pleasant all the time.

He had had his share of women but the lust for sex was not a pressure at fifty as it had been at twenty-five. He liked to fuck and he did. But he wanted a change from Phyllis Reger and Holly Martin, despite the black girl's expertise and the fact that he had fucked his secretary in the ass.

It had surprised Frank how often the image of Conchi Thorne entered his mind. His encounter with her just before his trip to L.A. was no doubt the cause. What a woman, he thought.

Conchi had been his tenant now for several years, yet never before had he thought of her in the way his sense of lust was now at work. The call he had made to her apartment had placed the Thorne woman in a new light.

She had been embarrassed when he saw her half naked in that filmy robe. It turned Frank on to think about Conchi's embarrassment; and he was intrigued by the nude photos of herself in the living room. What the hell would she have them for? he thought.

Frank knew Conchi was a professor, an intellectual, but by god she had shown herself to be a woman for all that. So what if she was his age? There hadn't been any sag in the flesh she had shown him, unwillingly. She could give him all a young girl could; and then something more precious besides.

It was these thoughts on his ride back to the city that made him want to see Conchi again. He decided to call on her as soon as he put his bag in his own apartment. His excuse would be to check to see if the electrician had done a good job. He hoped in his lust-filled mind that she would be dressed in her filmy robe.

It was afternoon when Frank reached the apartment building. Eno was in the elevator, looking somewhat sickly. "Hi, Eno," Frank said. "Don't you feel good?"

Eno mumbled a greeting. He was still numb from his exciting encounter with Conchi Thorne.

"Et something don't agree with me. You goin all the way up, Mr. Kazarra?" Eno asked.

"Yes. To the apartment," Frank said.

Eno closed the door and sent the car up. "Seen Miss Thorne lately?" Frank asked.

"Ain't seen her today," Eno lied. He let Frank out on the sixth floor and hurried the elevator down. He had many prickles in his stomach because he had been a nasty old man.

Frank dropped his bag in his apartment before crossing the hall to Apartment 6-B. He pushed the button; then pushed it again. There was no response. Damn! he thought. He was excited. He wanted to see Conchi again-now.

It was then he noticed the door was not shut tightly. He pushed it open quietly and stepped inside the foyer. He closed the door and moved so he could see into the large room. Conchi was lying on the floor, spread eagled, naked, and still unmoving.

"Christ!" Frank said. His first thought was that somebody had murdered her. But there was neither weapon nor blood.

"Conchi!" he called sharply.

His second thought came quickly and it was pure lust. He had seen part of Conchi before; now he was getting the full treatment. His lustful gaze roamed from the serenity of her beautiful face to the suckable breasts; then on down to the swell of her belly where the triangle of pubic hair was the invitation flaunted in the spread out nakedness of the thighs.

Frank knelt down between Conchi's legs. He felt for her pulse but was too upset to pursue that instinctive action. He leaned forward and roughed her tits a little before he kissed each one. He knelt back so he could see the cunt. He was not an expert on seminal discharges, but it looked to him as if she had been fucked.

"Conchi? Miss Thorne?" he said. He saw the flecks of blood on the cunt lips and figured she had been screwed by a madman.

The absence of bruises or a weapon seemed to indicate that she had been fucked while out cold! Frank moved swiftly to the front door to see if it were closed. He was satisfied and started back to the invitation that lay on the floor. He was so hot now he unzipped his fly and pulled his stiff rod outside his slacks.

Driven by lust, Frank began to stroke the magnificent tits. He pressed his mouth against a nipple and sucked on it. But the urgency to fuck Conchi was now so great that any loveplay was to be avoided. Besides, she might wake up and he wanted to soak his big prick in her moist hole. And he was now going to take her with or without her consent!

He lay on her and guided his cock into her cunt. He put his arms around her and began, the sexual rhythm. This is all woman, he thought. His prick was a stiff tool, doing its work. He was conscious of the fact that he had to rush the job because she could wake up any second-and that was the second she did!

She was a drowsy looking dame as she said, "It's you, Frank."

"I want you, Conchi," Frank said softly as he continued his thrusting. "I can't stop!"

He wasn't sure what she'd do but if she screamed he would put his hand over her mouth until his juice shot hotly into her. But her cunt was not objecting to the way his cock was going into it. He kept shoving it in and hugging the blonde to his chest.

"I don't want you to… " Conchi's voice drifted off into nothing.

He couldn't make out what she was saying in her little cries and moans. But he didn't need a dictionary to identify her physical reaction. Her entire body became a volcano of passion, as if she could make up in this one episode of lust all she had missed in her fifty virginal years.

Her cries increased in volume as she neared an orgasm; her belly pounded against Frank with an insatiable demand. The long, loud shriek told Frank his partner had reached her climax; and she shrieked again before Frank let his hot jet of, semen shoot into the ravaged cunt.

"Frank!" Conchi gasped. "Why did you do this to me? Like this?" She didn't make sense. "Why did you make me wait?"

"Conchi, girl," Frank said lovingly, "you'll never have to wait again."

Conchi whispered, "I guess I've been waiting all my life, and I didn't know it."

It was obvious that Conchi Thorne was still under the effect of the drug. Neither she nor Frank knew that the drug could produce strange things, like the release of pent-up emotions and desires. She was now vitally conscious that she had had a male cock in her vagina, and she wanted more of it!

Frank began playing with Conchi's breasts, sucking each in turn, making the nipples harden. As he thus played with her his prick grew stiff.

"Don't go, Frank," Conchi said. "Don't go, ever!"

Frank's answer was to thrust his cock into Conchi's cunt for another go at sexual pleasure. "I'm not going," he promised. "We're just beginning to get acquainted-so let's get married!"

A gush of air came from Conchi's mouth. Married?"

"Why not?" Frank said as he kept on working. "What's wrong with marriage?"

"Not a damn thing!" Conchi said as she moved her hips in time to the thrusting prick.

"How about Paris?" Frank asked.

"Paris in the spring," Conchi said. "Beautiful."

"Let's run away to Paris as soon as we can."

"Paris," Conchi grunted. "That's the only place for a honeymoon."

Chapter 20

Keith was drinking his fourth cup of coffee and fighting with his conscience.

He had run down the stairway and into the Coffee Shop after drugging his aunt and trying to rape her. Following two cups of coffee and imagining all possible ways of being apprehended, he had left the restaurant to walk for blocks in frightened contemplation.

Now he was back in the Coffee Shop with the fourth cup of coffee in his hands. He had slipped the drug into his aunt's brandy about twelve o'clock; it was now close to one-thirty.

He was on edge wondering if his aunt had regained her senses. How she felt? What would she do to punish him for the awful thing he had done to her-that attempted rape!

Keith was sipping his coffee so slowly it was becoming cold. What should I do? he thought. Return upstairs to apologize? He had no feeling about facing his aunt's wrath; not yet. But he knew he would have to go up to do so eventually.

The jukebox in the restaurant was playing softly. A singer was singing something about love and the word picked its way through Keith's mind.

He did love his aunt. She was the best thing in his life. That was the main reason why he had agreed to give his semen to her. But how could he help the fact that she had appealed to him so strongly sexually? To be truthful with himself he had to admit he hadn't fought against his desire to fuck her. And that desire had grown week after week until it had become so strong he had dared to drug his aunt.

Even the time he had spent with Bettina Werp and Phyllis Reger had not dimmed his desire to screw his aunt. He knew he had done wrong in using the potent drug. And now he was paying for his smartness-his smart-assness!

To place Conchi under his control had been his aim, and the fact that he had failed to satisfy his desire did not lessen his guilt.

"Damn it!" he said aloud and unthinkingly. He was completely frustrated. He wished he could undo what had been done. He felt in his pocket for some change and became aware that Phyllis Reger was sitting on the stool next to him.

"That can mean only one thing," she said.

"Trouble!" Keith said.

"Tell Phyllis about it."

"I can't. It's too awful."

Phyllis patted Keith's arm. "Now don't tell me you committed a murder."

"Worse," Keith said.

Phyllis ordered coffee from the waitress and turned to Keith. "How do you know I can't help you?"

"I told you. It's too awful!"

"Tell Phyllis anyway."

"I can't tell you. I can't!" Keith was becoming crazy with remorse. Talking about it, he was sure, wouldn't help.

The waitress set the cup of coffee in front of Phyllis who put a spoon of sugar in it. "If you're in trouble, Keith, I want to help. Aren't we intimate pals?"

"Oh, God!" Keith moaned.

"You'll feel better if you tell me." Phyllis stirred the sugared coffee and tasted it.

"I need help." Keith was edging himself toward a confession.

"Well, here it is!" Phyllis said.

Keith was going all the way. "If you have time I'll show what I did."

"I'm not quite sure of the time," Phyllis said as she thought of Frank's arrival from Los Angeles today. He hadn't showed yet so she decided to take a chance. "All right," she said. "I'll go with you if you tell me where we are going."

"My aunt's apartment." Keith was near tears.

The sudden idea to take Phyllis to Conchi's apartment made Keith feel better. She would serve as a kind of mental and moral buffer against whatever was found there. He knew that his aunt might be fully awake by now, or still be unconscious. She could be filled with rage at what he had done. He couldn't imagine her calling the police, but she would tell his parents, and that was worse.

Phyllis asked, "Did you do something to your aunt?"

"I tried," Keith began, and then told the story of his special treatments for Conchi, his ever-rising desire to fuck her, and then how he drugged her.

Phyllis said. "That's trouble, all right, but you have to face it."

"I know," Keith agreed.

Phyllis got off the stool and said, "Let's go up to your aunt's apartment."

Keith insisted they take the stairs so they walked up to the sixth floor. The door to Apartment 6-C was closed. Keith gingerly turned the knob and the door opened slightly. He opened it and walked quietly into the foyer followed by Phyllis. A moaning sound struck terror into his heart. Conchi might be dying, he thought.

Almost on tiptoes he crossed the foyer so he could look into the living room. He felt Phyllis' hand on his shoulder and he saw Conchi spread on the floor as he had left her. But now she was writhing lustfully in the arms of Frank Kazarra who was, as it looked, totally fucking his aunt! The moans he had heard at first were becoming little cries of pleasure.

Keith and Phyllis backed out as quietly as they had come in. The lustful lovers on the floor were all too occupied to know that intruders had seen them in sexual combat. But Keith had seen enough to convince himself that his worry had been for naught-his aunt was very much alive!

Whatever had happened to her had certainly changed her attitude toward sex. That was for sure!

And Phyllis was sure of one thing, too. Frank Kazarra would not call on her today or tonight! She breathed easily now and took Keith's hand and walked him down to her apartment.

"I need a drink and you do, too," she said to Keith.

"I want more than a drink," Keith said.

"So does my baby."

Keith watched Phyllis disappear into her bedroom and quickly return wearing only panties and bra. She mixed drinks at the bar and came to him.

"Sit down," she said, handing a glass to Keith.

Keith sat in a chair and Phyllis sat on the arm of it. "It looks like we have lost our partners," she said.

Keith put his hand on Phyllis' soft black thigh. "I'm happy," he said.

"I'm happy for you," she said. She reached down to touch Keith's slacks. "That little thing is ready."

"Always is," Keith said proudly, swallowing some of the highball Phyllis had made.

"Let's play," Phyllis said. "My little baby is hot and wanting."

They finished their drinks before going to the bedroom. Phyllis took off pantie and bra and sat on the edge of the bed. "Strip," she said.

Keith quickly got out of his clothes and looked down at his prick. It was hugging his belly as it nestled in the hair on his pubic region. "Oh, cunto, cunto, here I come!" he said joyfully.

Keith walked toward the bed and Phyllis lay back with her legs opened wide. With hand on cock, Keith moved toward Phyllis. But he wasn't about to use his rod. Phyllis pushed his head down on top of her baby. "Suck it," she said.

Keith knelt down and Phyllis said, "Oh!" as his tongue slid over her large clit. "I told you I could help you, boy," she said.

Keith pulled his mouth away from Phyllis' baby long enough to say, "Every fuck helps!"

"Keep sucking, boy," Phyllis said. "The fucking comes later."

And when it did she thought about Frank. If she lost him she could easily turn Keith into a real man-and why not start now?

Chapter 21

TWA Flight 614 was two hours out of New York enroute to the city of love: Paris. It had rushed swiftly into the night and all was quiet in the first class section. First class was only half filled with passengers. Both the seats opposite Frank and Conchi were empty.

Frank, sitting on the aisle seat, let his hand rest on Conchi's thigh. "I'm not too hard on you, am I?" he asked.

Conchi placed her hand over his and squeezed it lightly. "Of course not. I want you to fuck me again and again, Frank."

The word "fuck" coming from her own mouth seemed strange indeed. It was as if she were another person, not Conchi Thorne, the virgin. And I am another person, she thought; a better person.

In one short tempestuous twenty-four hour period Frank's lust had changed her from a reluctant virgin into a hearty, lusty female.

"How long until Paris?" she asked.

"Three hours," Frank said. "Maybe a little more."

Conchi smiled mischievously. "We have to wait, don't we?" She put her hand on Frank's slacks where the bulge of his big cock was a temptation.

"Have you ever been screwed on a Paris-bound plane?"

"You know better than that!"

Frank laughed. He liked this blonde. He liked her for herself alone, but in addition she was hot and crazy for prick. He could understand that, but how in hell had she kept her cunt to herself all those years? That was hard to understand.

"Did you ever fuck on a plane?" Conchi asked, the dirty word coming so easily from her mouth.

"I never did," Frank said, "but I've never been with a hot blonde like you before."

Conchi's hand tightened over Frank's prick. "Three hours is a long time to wait for this."

Frank leaned forward and pushed the button for the stewardess. When she came he asked for a blanket. "It seems to be a little chilly."

The stewardess smiled. "Certainly," she said. She'd brought blankets to passengers before and had seen the action going on beneath it when she passed by.

"Here's one for each of you," she said when she returned.

Frank smiled at the girl. "Thank you," he said. He unfolded a blanket and placed it over Conchi's seat. He placed a blanket over his lap and a hand under Conchi's blanket. He was surprised and delighted to find that she had already hoisted her skirt so her thighs were bare. Her cunt was moist to his touch and he said, "Let's do what we can now. We'll do better when we get to Paris."

Conchi leaned over to kiss Frank. She whispered in his ear, "Have you ever fucked a woman on a bidet?"

With his free hand Frank patted Conchi's healthy and glowing cheeks. "What a woman you are!"

All seemed quiet back at the Kazarra Apartment building.

Gab Monthor had completed his daily visit to the Classman twins and was leaving their apartment to return to his own. He had decided that he needed a good night's rest. In the hall his thought was of Conchi. What had happened to the blonde woman in the apartment on the sixth floor? Eno hadn't spoken to him except to say hello. On sudden impulse he decided to walk up to Conchi's apartment. His lust for the day had been well satiated by the blonde twins, but on remembering the sexual flood he had experienced on seeing that blonde woman naked on the floor, ready for his cock, he wanted to see her again.

He tried the door to Conchi Thorne's apartment. Eno had at last fixed the lock, at the stern bidding of Frank. Gab pushed the button that activated the chimes. There was no answer. He rang again and then became aware of the red-haired girl standing in the doorway of another apartment.

"Are you looking for Conchi Thorne?" she asked Gab.

Gab faced Bettina Werp. He had seen her before and with lustful eyes had noted the fine shape she was in. "You're Miss Werp?" he said.

"How did you know?" Bettina asked, smiling.

"One gets around, I'm Gab Monthor. Dr. Monthor."

"Yes, I know. I've seen you too."

"I was calling on Miss Thorne," Gab explained his presence on the sixth floor.

"Conchi has gone to Paris with Frank Kazarra."

"When did that happen?" Gab asked.

"Quickly."

Bettina looked frankly at Gab. "Maybe I can help you," she said.

Gab also didn't want this interlude to end. Bettina was wearing a leotard that clung to her body like her own skin. All things were nicely outlined and Gab liked what he was seeing. Bettina continued to stand there, showing it all off, not moving, not trying to hide what she had. Her red hair seemed to grow under the soft lights in the hallway.

"If you are a friend of Conchi's then you're a friend of mine," Bettina said. "Would you like to come in and visit?"

Gab nodded and walked through the doorway. As he passed close to the red head he smelled her perfume. She was a desirable woman and would be a nice change from the blonde twins. The perfume was nice to Gab's prick: it was stirring below in the blackman's pants.

Bettina closed and bolted the door. She came toward Gab with a tantalizing smile on her red lips. "Let's get acquainted, shall we?" she said with a lustful look in her dark blue eyes.

Below, in his basement apartment, Eno Yaw was talking to his cock. "Sure did like that blonde, Yam; didn't you?"

The prick didn't answer so Eno said a name out loud. "Joyce." The prick moved as the old man said the name as lustfully as he could. He was a dirty old man and he thought of the coming Saturday when Joyce would come to visit him.

One hundred dollars was a high price to pay for the favors of a teenybopper, but hell, she was going to let him fuck her in the ass!

Content

Fred N. Richard
Bawdy-House Mother

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21