After that fateful day, Elizabeth's mother took to arriving home at unexpected hours and phoning her husband at his office to make sure he had not sneaked home for a bit of incestuous fucking. So Elizabeth and her daddy were no longer able to fuck every day, although they did manage to get a few fucks in from time to time, when one or the other was feeling so ashamed that it was worth the risk.
Elizabeth, having grown accustomed to steady prick, both avuncular and paternal, found herself constantly frustrated now. She discovered where her mother had hidden the dildo and fucked herself silly with the rubber cock, but it was a poor substitute for the real thing, mainly because the damned thing could not come. She missed having a load of jism at the end of a fuck or suck.
But she soon discovered that cocks were plentiful and easy to come by for a sexy girl. She took to going out in the evening and allowing herself to get picked up by strange men. The men were invariably older, in their twenties, at least, and had automobiles or apartments of their own, or the money to rent a motel room.
That was the main reason why Elizabeth had never fucked a guy, even when she herself was young. There never seemed to be a time and a place in which to fuck.
Sometimes she stayed out all night.
Her mother didn't seem to mind – and, in fact, was just as glad to get the nubile competition out of the house.
Her father could hardly object.
Elizabeth would walk down the street, her hips swaying, her cute ass swinging like a pendulum… and it was never very long before a car pulled up and she was offered a lift. She almost always accepted. It didn't much matter to the randy teenager if the man was good looking or not. She preferred them to be not too ugly, nor too fat, but it wasn't all that important, as long as they had big, hard pricks and balls full of jism.
She even seduced her English teacher.
She fucked the neighbors on both sides of the house and she sucked off the butcher, in his shop, kneeling down in front of him with the dead meat hanging all around them and his very much alive cock meat squirting cum into her hungry mouth.
Once, she got gang banged on her birthday and thought it the nicest birthday present a girl could ever have. She had gone to a lover's lane with a man who had fucked her a few times before. No sooner had he got her stripped naked than four other men appeared. They had been lurking in the trees and it was obvious to Elizabeth that it had all been prearranged. She knew that she had a terrible reputation, and did not blame the horny men. The man she was with looked nervous and a bit guilty when the others approached.
"Well, fancy meeting you fellas here," he said.
But Elizabeth had put him at his ease. "The more the merrier!" she said. And she proceeded to fuck all five of them, twice each, and get some cocksucking in along the way. She enjoyed it so much that, for a while after that she never went out with a single man, but always made sure he had a few friends to join them. By the time she was eighteen, Elizabeth had fucked miles of assorted prick and drank gallons of cum. But not one that, had she ever fucked a man younger than twenty one.
Then she met Carl Tremayne.
He was big and brawny, ten years older than Elizabeth – and best of all, he was stuck to the other end of the biggest cock she had yet encountered.
They met at the theater, on one of the rare evenings when Elizabeth had gone out for any reason other than to get fucked. He was from out of town and did not know how sordid her reputation was. That was rather refreshing. Just about every man in town, from twenty-one to fifty, had fucked her at least once and they tended to treat her like a punch board. Carl was attentive and charming. He was trying to seduce her, of course, but not knowing that seduction was unnecessary with Elizabeth, he treated her with respect – and in the process, won her heart.
Elizabeth, with an eye to the future, did not go to bed with Carl that first night. It was the only time that she could remember going out with a man without fucking him or sucking him off, and it made a nice change. He asked her out again the next day.
Enough was enough, however.
On that second date, pretending that she was innocent and inexperienced, but had fallen in love and was therefore willing, Elizabeth allowed Carl to fuck her. He fucked her very satisfactorily. They began to go steady. She began sucking his prick, saying: "Oh, I never knew that it was nice to have a cock in my mouth, Carl – it must be because I love you so much."
She had never been sure if Carl believed her. He seemed to take her, at face value – and he certainly loved to take her in the face.
He proposed marriage a month afterwards and Elizabeth accepted without hesitation. Her life as a punchboard had ended. Despite the fact that she had been a very promiscuous young lady, she had become a faithful wife. Maybe it was because she had already sampled so many cocks that she no longer felt the need for variety. She thought that was probably true. They had a happy life together and Elizabeth never thought of cuckolding Carl.
And then came the day that he awoke late and didn't have time to give her a morning fucking and, looking out the window, she saw the smooth-skinned teen cutting the lawn next door – and realized, with amazement, that she had never once fucked a teenager.
Now, standing in front of the looking glass, with the cunt juice running down her thighs, Elizabeth frowned with concentration. She was wondering if she could seduce the teen without any repercussions. If Carl were to find out – well, it wouldn't be worth it. But it was true that what a man didn't know couldn't hurt him.
She began to consider the possibility seriously.
She might have been even more serious and determined to fuck the teen next door, had she realized that her husband was fucking his teenaged secretary.
Just as Elizabeth had felt horny because they had not had time for their usual morning sex, so did her husband feel the urge to empty his swollen balls. But unlike his wife, Carl had a handy outlet.
Cathy Jenson was eighteen years old.
She could not type without looking at the keys, she could not file, she could barely read and write, let alone take dictation.
But, oh, could she fuck!
Cathy had long blonde hair and big blue eyes and a pair of tits that stuck out like a shelf. A lot of her trouble in filing, in fact, was because her tits got in the way, looming out over the cabinet. Her ass was as round as a beach ball and her legs were long, smooth and usually wide apart.
Carl had lusted for her as soon as she came into his office for the interview. She had been perfectly honest with her prospective employer, admitting to all of her limitations. He had desperately wanted to hire her – at the very least she would be decorative in the office – but he could find no justification for giving her the job. The other applicants were all skilled at secretarial work, but they were mousy creatures with flat chests.
"Well – errr…" he'd stammered.
Cathy had batted her big blue eyes and smiled confidently across his polished desk, as if sure she had the position.
"You hardly seem well qualified," he'd said.
She breathed in. Out came those tits. Carl's eyes bulged. Her tits were colossal.
"I'm sure I can make myself useful," she said.
"Hummm," said Carl.
He gave her the job.
It meant that he had to do a lot of work that a skilled secretary would have handled, but he figured it was worth the extra effort, just to have Cathy around to look at.
That was all he did – just look. For two days.
On the third day, she came into his private office, looking unhappy. Carl looked up from his desk. Her tits loomed out at him.
"Mister Tremayne," she said, "I feel so useless!"
He tried to think of some job he could assign her that she couldn't fuck up too much.
But she went on. "I've been working here for three whole days now, and you haven't given me dictation even once."
He wanted to soothe her. He hated to see her so unhappy. He decided to dictate a letter which she could subsequently type – and then he could tear up and throw away.
"Do you have your pad?" he asked. "Urn-hum," she said, brightening and looking cheerful now.
And then, to his amazement, she came around the desk and plopped her luscious ass into his lap.
"This is the way it's done, right," she said.
"Well – em – yes, certainly," he agreed.
His cock had started to swell immediately, as her juicy ass squirmed around in his lap. He could not think of a single word to dictate to her. All of his blood had rushed into his prick and his brain was starved for oxygen. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but no words came forth. Cathy didn't seem to notice. In fact, she didn't. She had not the faintest idea that dictation involved taking notes – she thought the word meant sitting on the boss' dick.
She squirmed some more and his cock began to hammer.
"Oh, this is such a nice job," she said.
She wriggled some more. The hem of her skirt drew halfway up her smooth thighs. She crossed her legs. The skirt went higher.
Carl was sweating and blushing, afraid that she would realize what the heaving lump under her ass was.
But she already knew that.
"Oh, you have such a nice big hard-on, Mister Tremayne! It must be just awful for a girl to work for a boss who has a teeny-weenie little cock!"
She smiled and snuggled. She batted her eyes and licked her lips. His prick got bigger and bigger, threatening to dislodge her from his lap, prying like a lever at her pelvis.
"I do so love big cocks," she said.
Carl began to realize that his secretary might be gifted in ways that did not involve paperwork… that those fingers, clumsy on a keyboard, might be skilled when wrapped around a cock… that although she could not file, she might allow him to file his prick in her hairy cabinet… that her talents might be more in the way of dick-tation.
"Miss Jenson?"
"Yes, boss?"
"Would you object if I were to fuck you?"
The girl looked surprised.
"Well, of course not," she said. "Isn't that what secretaries are for?"
Carl realized, then, that Cathy had made a mistake in seeking employment. She knew nothing about secretarial work except what she had seen in the movies and on television. It was, he had to admit, an understandable assumption.
"That, my dear, is precisely what a secretary is for," he told her.
Then he fucked her to a frazzle.
And Cathy had been most efficient and was delighted to find that the work suited her and that she would no longer have to feel useless around the office.