let him fuck her in the ass
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 TWO
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 Apartments. 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 Apartments 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 THREE
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 Ecstasyville.
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' 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' 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' 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' 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' 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' 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 FOUR
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 FIVE
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 SIX
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.
Keys: teen anal porn stories
Piss, cum and double penetration
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