Kathy Andrews hadn't had time to change her clothes after school. Her father, Mike Andrews, had picked her up at the gate at three o'clock, his sailplane trailer already hooked to the ten-year-old family camper. Kathy waved goodbye to her girlfriend, Janie, and stepped up into the converted bread van.
Kathy stayed in front with her father. His whole life, since her mother had died, revolved around glider competition, and the twelve-year-old girl loved to listen to her father's hopes for the contests they traveled to.
Mike unhooked the trailer as his daughter looked at her scanty traveling wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear. She knew that he would knock politely before coming in, so Kathy took her time. Kathy took off her long-sleeved blouse and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She saw she would have to buy a new bra soon-the bandeau cut into her skin and left a mark when she shrugged out of the straps.
She arched her back to make her firm titties stand out. Maybe Daddy would let me go without a bra completely, she mused. The little cones of her bosom didn't droop a millimeter. Pointed, perfectly symmetrical, each tittie could be mashed into a mound just the size of a half grapefruit. She brought her slim-fingered hands up and pressed her conical breasts into globes.
Kathy released the sensuous masses. She shook her head, and her long, ash-blonde hair fell over her shoulders. The soft ends of her straight, fine hair just brushed her nipples and the surprisingly large points stood up. They were pink as the inside of a strawberry.
Her skin was creamy-white, so clear that the little traceries of her veins showed blue under the surface. Kathy was just five feet tall, with a thin, studious face that lit up the whole world when she smiled.
Her eyes were deep blue and very round. The only makeup she wore was to accent her long, feathery lashes. Half-a-dozen freckles scattered across her thin, aquiline nose. Her pink lips were as level as her gaze at the corners, but full in the center, rising like a little bridge. Her teeth were white, straight as a ruler, and carnivorous little points showed when the little girl laughed.
Kathy unbuttoned the waist of her skirt and the zipper hissed silkily down. She hung the garment up carefully, thinking, I wonder why it's always so hard to get those ladies in the lingerie department to sell me stockings. I don't like pantyhose, I like real stockings. They're so much easier to manage when I have to wear them all day! She turned back to the mirror to look at herself.
She wore only her garter belt and stockings with her frilly blue panties. The black straps of her garters showed plainly through the Wedgwood-blue nylon. The day had been long, the drive from the city very hot, so Kathy slipped her panties down.
He's going to want to go to a restaurant for dinner tonight. Daddy always likes to do that the first part of a glider meet. He says going out makes him feel like we already won. I better leave my stockings on.
Her hipbones showed as Kathy turned herself this way and that in front of the mirror. Her garters curved over two small, round buttocks, like stripes of midnight on white paper. The dark, coffee-brown sheen of Kathy's hose made her long slim thighs look even smoother. Her skin gleamed, pale under the black lace of the belt.
Kathy stood still again, her under slung pussy rocked slightly toward the mirror. I hope I don't get much hairier down there. Hike the way it just barely covers the edges of my pussy opening.
She touched the downy curls. I bet it's almost half an inch long now. It feels nice, even if it isn't ns soft as the hair on my head. And it sure does make my pussy feel good!
Kathy felt her pulse accelerating. She bit her lip and grabbed a wraparound denim skirt. She felt a mysterious warmth in her loins that needed investigating, but not until she had more time. She heard a knock on the side of the van.
"I'll be ready in a minute, Daddy," she called. Kathy tied her skirt with flying fingers and grabbed a bulky pullover sweater. The knock sounded again as Kathy brushed long, fine strands of hair out of her eyes and opened the door.
"I didn't mean to rush you, Kathy," Mike Andrews said. "I've got to go talk to Milt Jackson, the technical inspector. Something about whether our plane meets the class requirements.”
"That's silly, Daddy! It always has before-you built it to fit the rules!”
"I know, baby, but somebody might have protested us. I'll be back in half an hour or so. Why don't you just stick close to the truck, arid we'll have a nice dinner in town when I get back, okay?”
"Okay, Daddy. Don't be long, please? I'm awful hungry." Kathy was suddenly aware of the gnawing feeling in her belly. She hadn't eaten since noon, and dark was falling around the gliderport.
The evening was cooling the sultry air as Kathy locked the van and walked around the trailer-parking area. She recognized many of the trailers by their distinctive colors or the owner's name painted on the sides. Long, narrow boxes sat in rows inside the impound fence. Late comers kept pulling in at the far gate, and the guard used a dim flashlight to find the entrant's parking slot.
Kathy enjoyed these weekends with her father. She shared his faith that one good year of flying could open new doors, perhaps getting Mike Andrews a job designing and building the sailplanes he loved.
It wasn't just the high hopes they shared that Kathy liked. All the people at the competitions were friendly, and Kathy and her father grew closer each time they traveled to a meet.
It might not go on much longer, though. Mike Andrews was an airframe mechanic, and the charter business he worked for was growing. He told Kathy that his boss grumbled now when Mike asked for time off to compete. At thirty-two, Mike looked three times his age when he told his daughter about having to give up soaring in competition.
Kathy brooded as she scuffed around the parking area. If Daddy doesn't win this weekend, we won't be able to go on any more long trips. The people at the little regionals are really nice, but he really should have a chance in the big contests.
She looked up, sensing a huge mass in front of her. That must be Bob Williams' trailer, I bet Daddy would win every time if he inherited a million dollars. We could afford a moving van full of spare parts, and three different gliders, too.
"Come on, Mary," Bob Williams said. "Milt's gonna be tied up with Andrews half the night. My crew's gone into town-nobody'll bother us.”
Kathy stopped in her tracks. She heard Mary Jackson giggle. The little blonde girl sneaked quietly around the back of the huge, sky-blue rig. The hair on her nape stirred and her tennis shoes crunched on the gravel. Heavy breathing came from just around the corner of the trailer.
"Just kiss it, Bob, no more. I love it when you suck my pussy," Mary said. Kathy bent down and looked around the bumper.
Tall, fair-haired Bob Williams touched one well-dressed knee to the ground as he skinned Mary Jackson's slacks off. The white of Mary's briefs showed against the crumpled denim. She lifted one tiny foot and kicked free of the cloth.
Kathy's eyes bugged out. But she's married! spun through her head. The twelve-year-old was astounded. She didn't know what Bob and Mary were doing. Her stomach fluttered like the cold dawns when she'd had too much coffee and no breakfast. The breeze shot up her skirt, and Kathy realized she'd left her panties in the truck. She crouched on her fingertips and toes, like a sprinter before the start.
Mary Jackson's puffy hairdo mashed out of shape against the big trailer. Her blouse was open, and her full, deep breasts quivered with her hot, shallow breathing. She pulled Bob's head against her pussy. The thirty-five-year-old brunette spread her round thighs wide. She half-stood against the moonlit side of Bob's massive rolling hangar.
"Yes, oh, Bob, right there!" Mary's whisper sliced through the night air. "Mmmm, yes! Your tongue!!”
Bob's slim, aristocratic fingers dug into Mary's broad hips. "I love eating you," he said, his husky voice muffled by her luxurious cuntal hair. He pressed her loins closer, cupping his hands under her silky-skinned buttocks.
Mary's pussy had been wet since Bob grabbed her and kissed her. Her pulse raced when she helped him with the buttons of her blouse. Each touch of his fingers on her lush breasts had fanned the swampy heat in her loins, and now his lascivious tongue and suctioning lips delighted her.
Mary's heels dug in. She curved her spine, presenting her eager pussy. Her toes curled ecstatically when she raised her hands to cup her bosom. Mary's nipples stood completely erect in the cool of the evening, and goosebumps covered her skin. Her breasts were round and firm as two sweet, ripe melons.
Bob burrowed into her inviting loins. Thick, musky cream bathed his mouth and chin. Each sensitive part of Mary's cuntal jungle sought out his tongue and lips. He wallowed in the tender heat of her wet, fevered pussy. Mary's full, puffy labia surrounded his face. He slithered his tongue back and forth along the floor of her delicious cuntal valley.
Mary panted, moaning incoherent syllables into the night. The pretty woman's tan skin was silvery in the cool, steady moonlight. Her shoulders slid down the side of the trailer until her wide, satiny buttocks completely filled Bob's hands. Only her nape and shoulders touched the sky-blue van. Her knees were bent at a right angle and Bob cupped her hips like a huge bowl of nectar.
Mary's torso moved in passionate waves. She undulated lasciviously, pushing her honey-filled pussy against Bob's invading tongue.
Bob had to swallow her rich juices after every few long sucks. The soft internal folds of Mary's vagina gushed like a milky mountain spring. The heavy scent of her lusty pussy filled his nostrils. His tongue plunged in and out like a tiny piston. His upper lip gnawed and teased at the stiff, sensuous button of her clitoris.
"Oh, more, Bob! More!" Mary begged. "Don't stop now-make me cum all over your mouth!" Her eyes rolled, unfocused under fluttering lids. Her full lips were a slack oval. Her jaw fell open.
Bob's prick throbbed in the tight prison of his tailored slacks. Mary's fingers had lingered in his crotch just long enough to make the organ stiff as a poker. Kneeling to gobble her pussy, his swollen balls ached.
Bob kneaded her butter-soft asscheeks. He rolled the luscious mounds in his hands, spreading them wide, then forcing them back together. The mixture of her vaginal fluids and his saliva slicked the deep cleavage. Mary's rectum took his finger easily.
“Ohhh! D-don't-don't sto-stop!" Mary wailed. Her voice rose and fell, winding through the night like a distant yodel. "I'm cumming!”
Bob attacked her clit with his lips. He sucked the tiny stiffness into his mouth. The blood-pink inner cuntlips filled his mouth, and Mary put her hands on the back of his head.
She forced him harder against her suspended cunt. Her torso curved like a hammock. Her shoulders flexed on the metal wall of the trailer. Her hips were on a level with her head. Her round thighs tensed.
Bob felt the heat building in her. The soft curves t›f her ass hardened in his hands. Her rectum contracted around his finger. He plunged the digit in and out faster. Bob sucked savagely at her cunt mound, and carefully scraped the sides of her clit with his teeth. He bit into the flesh surrounding the hot button. He quit swallowing Mary's feverish juices, and let the thick mixture of their fluids drool over her rocking loins.
His balls felt like someone had clamped a vise on them. He rose from his haunches and knelt with the twisting, desperate weight of Mary's legs on his shoulders.
Mary's shoulders slid down the side of the trailer. Her lush tits jounced on her chest. She hung upside down, her hairdo ruined in the dust. Her thighs locked onto the sides of Bob's head, and Mary drummed her heels against his back.
Bob hunched involuntarily. Mary's cuntal fever had flowed over him, and his cock strained against his pants. He let go of her flexing buttocks and grabbed her heavy tits.
Mary's ass bounced against Bob's chest. Her cunt had gushed so much thick juice that his shirt was spotted with heavy-scented dampness. Her snapping vagina grabbed at his chin while he lashed her clit with snake-like flicks of his tongue.
She dug her heels into his back. Mary levered against him, spreading her knees. Her loins opened, trying to swallow his face up. She wanted Bob to drown in the welling chasm of her snatch. She ground her pussy against him, and moaned passionately.
Bob grunted and growled into her cunt. He reveled in the thick goo and her swampy cuntal smell. Her big, stiff-nippled tits molded into fantastic globes of clinging lust. A thin sheen of sweat made the woman's flesh even smoother in his hands.
"Pleeeease, pleease suck me harder," Mary begged. "I'm just starting to cum!”
Bob grabbed her by the hips. His thumbs dug into her buttocks, and his fingers bruised the soft roundness of her lower belly. He pulled her cunt into his face, trying to stuff his whole head clear to the secret depths of her womb. His hips rocked and Mary exploded.
Her long fingernails clawed into his wrists. Mary shook with racking bursts of orgasmic release. Her feet pounded against his shoulder blades, forcing her cunt against Bob's face.
Bob had to rock back on his heels. Mary curved her back, bringing her shoulders off the ground. Her asscleft flexed and tightened on his throat. She rolled back down, her titties quivering. Huge, pounding waves of intense cumming exploded from Mary's clenching sphincters to every part of her body.
Mary gasped and sobbed. Her hips opened to absorb the power of Bob's head-fuck. She forced her cunt uphill, mashing the tender labia against Bob's face.
Bob kept licking and sucking at her juicy flesh until Mary collapsed. When her clawing fingers loosened on his wrists, he laid her down on the ground next to his trailer. He fingered the still-clenching mouth of her pussy and watched her writhe in the moonlight until the pain in his balls faded.