"You already did it that way," Albert protested. For an instant Ted didn't know what the boy meant, then she realized he had taken her last words literally. Having once tasted the joys of fucking, Albert wasn't about to accept second best again and let her work off a batch by hand.
She wondered what she ought to do. She could moan and wriggle and maybe finish off the thirteen-year-old before he had planned. But she really didn't want to. What was the percentage for her in provoking needlessly another cock-softening orgasm and switching to reserve manpower before absolutely necessary? Besides, it felt so gooood to have little John giving her his unreserved all as he pumped away with the indefatigable steadiness of an oil well rig.
But it would never do to have Albert go into one of his sulks again. "You'll get your chance," she promised the older boy. She gave his cock another affectionate squeeze. "It'll really be better if you rest a while first."
"Why?"
"Well," she began. It was very difficult to concentrate on explanations with little John's thirteen-year-old mouth and cock doing their level best to force her over the precipice into a bottomless chasm of orgasm. She tried to shut out the feel of his mouth on her swollen nipples, of his hard young cock sliding firmly in and out, in and out. But it felt so gooood!
She forced herself back to Albert's question. "Well," she repeated, "Don't you want to go on doing this for the rest of your life? After I'm long gone there'll still be other girls, you know."
"No!"
Abruptly she realized the fourteen-year-old had gotten himself entrapped in the toils of the differences between love and fucking.
"There will be," Ted said firmly. "Just as there'll be other boys for me. And if you were yourself out now, just think of all the years of fun you'll be missing."
"Wear myself out?"
Ted really didn't know whether she was talking nonsense or not but it seemed logical to her that a boy could overfuck just as he could overeat or anything else. "You'll strain yourself," she said. "It'll only hurt a little bit now but later it'll hurt a lot worse and then someday it'll hurt so bad you won't be able to do it at all."
From the sudden slackening of tension in the boy's throbbing cock she knew she had struck a responsive chord. She tried to imagine what it must be like to be a boy, to be fourteen, just discovering the joys of sex, to fuck one's fist so many times that finally orgasm was attained only at the expense of flogging a dead horse unmercifully until it gave a final spurting drop and subsided to the miseries of a stone ache. Probably, she guessed, it would feel even worse that she had felt at twelve after four hours of twisting her ass into ballet positions. She was doubly glad she had not been a boy, knowing that if their positions had been reversed-if she had been a virile young man attempting to satisfy two demanding women it would all have been over hours ago, leaving her exhausted and two women angry and unsatisfied. It was much nicer, Ted knew, to be a woman. A woman could just relax and let a man fuck her. Whenever she felt like it she could fuck back but she didn't have to. There was no penalty attached to poor performance. These boys, she knew, would someday be troubled to get it up even once. Definitely, it was nicer to be a woman.
But her womanly guise was turning on dangerously under the sustained pumping of this indefatigable thirteen-year-old who still buried his curly head in her tits, giving her almost as much of a turn-on with his eager tongue as he was doing with his hot throbbing cock pumping away at her revived vagina. She had to do something. She didn't want to come again. It would be all right just to lie here and enjoy being fucked but she didn't want to feel herself scale the heights of passion's mountain again, didn't want to tumble once more into the chasm or orgasm that would make her faint, make her come to weak and shaken, with a bad taste in her mouth and an incipient headache. Ted didn't want that at all.
She felt Albert oozing imperceptibly higher where she could get a firmer grip on his cock. For a boy who didn't want a hand job he was amazingly cooperative. Then suddenly she realized what the fourteen-year-old was aiming for. She wondered if he knew himself what his body was straining toward. Maybe he did. Maybe he was just hoping, wishing, wanting to trick her just as little John had hoped to sneak a quick one into her while she was asleep. Boys, she guessed, would be boys.
She gave his cock another squeeze and Albert stiffened, gritting his teeth. Amazed, Ted relaxed her friendly grip. She had known from Albert's erection that he was hot to trot but she hadn't realized how much difference one year could make in a boy's development. Albert's active imagination combined with his healthy fourteen-year-old body had him in such a state of constant sexual excitement that he was still hair-trigger despite having fucked her as many times as little John. She wondered how many more times the fourteen-year-old would have to cum before be developed any real staying power. And then she realized that must be what Albert was wondering too. Subconsciously or otherwise, he must be contrasting his jackrabbit performance with the indefatigable thirteen-year-old's who still pumped confidently away atop her, licking her tits and kissing her nipples with a one-two rhythm in time to the inexorable prodding of his prodigious prick.
"Don't worry," she murmured into Albert's ear. "It's just because you're older and stronger. You'll be able to do it hours after he's fallen asleep." She wondered if she was talking nonsense.
If she was, at any rate it was comforting nonsense. She felt Albert's confidence grow. He scooted an inch higher on the bunk, managing to rub his hard young body against any part of her not already in possession of the thumping thirteen-year-old. Ted began to worry. She knew what, sooner or later, she was going to have to do. But how? Maybe if she rolled over onto one side.
She feinted a couple of times but little John was having none of it. He was firmly in the saddle, riding her in classic missionary position, driving his insatiable cock deep into her gaping cunt with each thrust between her flexed knees. She felt her thighs clasp in involuntarily, reveling in the feel of firm young masculinity performing between her legs. The boy's face was still buried in her tits as he played 'telephone' plugging one nipple into an ear while he kissed and licked the other. Ted guessed as long as the boy was performing this way there was little point in making him change position. After all, she had wanted a long spell of plain straight fucking so she could just relax and hover halfway up the slope of an orgasm. Little John was doing just fine.
But Albert? While she had been considering ways and means the boy had managed to scoot higher alongside her supine body. His hands caressed her flanks, the cheeks of her ass, the sides of her tits, every part of her that was not occupied by the younger boy.
Ted caught Albert's head and pulled his face down to hers. Their lips touched, and before the boy could protest she had her tongue in his mouth. Albert responded with enthusiasm, swapping tongues with her ass he arched his back, bringing his pelvis higher where she could caress his hot throbbing cock without stretching.
She felt his renewed vigor, felt the thump of heart and cock in unison, sensed the squirm of his balls as they readied a new charge for firing. She tried to maneuver her one unoccupied hand around too but she couldn't reach. With his mouth still glued to hers, swapping tongues like a veteran, the fourteen-year-old twisted his body in a way she could admire with professional detachment. Thighs gaping as wide as hers under the prolonged pounding of little John, he presented his crotch to her two handed caress.
Ted tickled his balls, making an erotic ritual of it as she counted hairs. Her other hand still gripped loosely the head of his cock and she could tell from the sudden surge of hot blood and the increasing throb that she was getting close to home. She put out a probing finger, careful not to hurt him as she traced the ticklish outline of his anal sphincter, then trekked a single fingernail safari up and down his perineum, gently tickling that tender strip of skin between asshole and balls until the boy's thighs were closing convulsively over her hand just as her thighs were disobeying her and locking about the steady rise and fall of little John's pelvis as he poured his thirteen-year-old cock to her raddled pussy.
It all felt so gooood! Ted tried not to think of all the lean years-the wasted years when she could have been doing wonderful things like fucking two boys at once instead of twisting her little ass out of shape at the practice bar. It was funny. During that one run of a month's one-a-day shows she had let Mr. Hammel do all sorts of wonderful things to her. Yet it had never occurred to her to experiment with anyone else after the production was over and Mr. Hammel had gone on his happy way toward some other budding Lolita. It had remained in her mind as a fond memory but there had been another show to practice for and all the boys in that cast had been more interested in each other than in her and the prima ballerina had been a kindly veteran of thirty-five whose only interest in Ted had been to knit her a. nice sweater. By the time, she was rested enough to be bored and curious again her interlude with Mr. Hammel had become rather hazy and, she suspected, the sort of thing only little girls of twelve did. And she was now thirteen.
And now she was thirty-nine, widowed, retired, with nothing to do but sail and fuck. Since her husband had died it had been all sailing. She guessed it was time for a turnabout. Somewhere topside the fog bell tolled. The yacht rocked gently at anchor and little John was timing his thrust so that the motion of the boat helped him slam into her deep each time she came up and he came whamming down.
And Albert was hovering anxiously in the wings, waiting for his turn once little John was fucked out. Ted guessed she could be in worse fixes-like alone! She caressed Albert's fourteen-year-old erection. She ran a gentle, tickling finger around the base of his cock, stirring the pubic bush with her fingernail. The boy's cock throbbed and pulsated. She focused her eyes and turned her head. Only inches away the boy's erection of perfection pointed straight at her. As she watched a tiny drop of crystal fluid formed at its tip.
She ran her titillating fingernail around Albert's balls, tickled their squirming hairiness, ran that gentle loving finger up the sensitive underside of his cock and stopped momentarily, to pat the bottom of his cockhead. The boy lunged uncontrollably and nearly poked her eye out.
It was the first time she had been able to get, a really good close look at the boy's equipment. His cock was long and straight, with a beautifully formed head that came to a rather sharp point, then flared magnificently to a glans penis that she still remembered for the way it had gone into her like a whaler's harpoon, hooking deep inside and trying its rigid best to turn her inside out each time the boy pulled it out. As she studied this magnificent cock only inches away the angry purple tip of the head peeped one-eyedly from the boy's tight-stretched foreskin.
She ran a testing finger around the taut foreskin and was rewarded with a throbbing jerk of renewed passion. The boy's pelvis reacted involuntarily under passion's stimulus and he lunged until she had to move her head away. Meanwhile little John was pumping away steadily between her legs, filling her whole body with a warm and gentle fullness. The curly-headed thirteen-year-old still played a frantic game of telephone, plugging one nipple into an ear, licking his message of love into the opposite tit, then switching rapidly to listen to his message transmitted through the vibrant nerves of her passion-flushed body.
Ted's tiring body was so assaulted with fresh and lovely sensation she hardly knew how to appreciate all the wonderful things that were happening to her. Her slack cunt had once more tightened as the boy's relentless prodding reawakened desire in her flat-muscled belly. Her tender inner thighs glowed from the friction of that wonderful hard-muscled little ass working so valiantly between them. Her vagina's flushed inner surface filled with fresh throbbing juices to lubricate the boy's tireless thrill drill. She felt her womb quiver with anticipation as it stirred and struggled to open and receive the boy's precious load. Under the boy's constant licking and kissing and sucking her tiny, still virginal nipples swelled and throbbed with the desire to suckle a child she had never had. She felt her insides twist and chum, gathering strength for a new assault on the slopes of Mount Orgasm and wondered what she could do to stop it.
She had to stop thinking about what little John was doing to her. No matter how delightful it felt to lie here and let the curly-headed thirteen-year-old pimp himself to exhaustion as be ministered to her need, she had to shut him out and think of something else unless she wanted to scale those heights and once more plunge into an abyss of uncontrollable, gut-wrenching passion that would leave her weak and trembling, without will or control. She had to get her mind off what the wonderful little boy was doing to her.
Suddenly she realized that, boxed in as she was between two passionate and immature studs there was only one way she could divert her awareness from what the younger boy was doing to her, all the wonderful ways he was trying to wear out her cunt. She knew now it was time to devote herself to giving the older boy his moment of joy too. There was, she new, more blessedness in giving than in receiving.
Ted took a deep breath, focused her eyes on the throbbing gently waving tip of Albert's hot throbbing tool. Moving gently toward it, she saw it go out of focus. Then she could feel the passionate warmth of it radiating toward he cheeks and lips. She opened her mouth wide, moved resolutely forward until she felt that throbbing warmth inside her. Then, very carefully she began closing her mouth.