Sue was a small child, though her breasts had begun to show signs of maturity. She wore her hair in bangs, but she seemed to Claude more sensual than any girl in his class, including Laura, whose body was much more well-developed.
Her almost baby-like looks were contradicted by a startling social poise with adults and children. She was easily the most popular girl in the class. Even the boys who usually shied away from girls tried to find ways to impress her.
Claude wondered if she were a virgin. There was a curious wisdom in her eyes – that, or, so Claude imagined at times, she was purely jaded. She did not seem the kind of thirteen-year-old who took directions – especially moral directions from her parents – without question.
She was going steady with an eighth-grader, Tom O'Hara, a tall, handsome boy who played on the school's basketball team. The glances they exchanged had a kind of passion to them. He knew those glances – that was the way Laura looked at him, the way he looked at Laura when he wanted her. There was a curious tenderness to the sexuality of children at puberty; he knew this instinctively if he could not articulate it. There was a kind of implicit violence when Ella Randall took him home, undressed him, and made love to him; in the sex he had with Tony, when the designer would force his big prick between Claude's small buttocks and push at the tiny sphincter hole, or else half-choke Claude on the cum his prick spurted.
He was walking through the north gate. The school library had closed, and the grounds were almost empty. He wanted sex, wanted it badly, but Ella Randall had been home sick, replaced by a substitute. After school he had gone into the library lavatory and masturbated once. Now his cock was alive again, and he had to think of other things. He didn't want to have to hunch over if someone saw him walking.
"There's Claude Parkins." The voice was underlined by a laugh, but it was unfriendly. Claude turned to see Tom O'Hara and Sue leaning against the fence several yards away. He had been so busy thinking about controlling his erection that he had not seen them.
"Hi 'ya, fag," O'Hara laughed. Claude breathed in deeply. He kept walking, aware of trying to keep his balance. He had been taunted about his effeminacy before, but seldom when alone and unprotected. The yard was empty, and O'Hara might be trying to prove something to his girl. He heard Sue whisper an admonishment, a standard feminine hesitation about the application of cruelty.
He walked out onto the street sidewalk, and his shoulders tightened and pulled back as he heard the quick heavy steps behind him. O'Hara's hand pressed down on his collarbone. "Why didn't you say hi, fella? Huh?" Tom's fingers gathered a few inches of cotton shirt and tugged on them threateningly. Sue was walking slowly toward them.
"Sorry," Claude said, his throat clotted and his voice muffled.
"Sorry isn't good enough, faggot." Claude's heart seemed to him to jump inside the frame of bone.
"Come on, Tom," nudged Sue, but the older boy only moved closer to Claude. His breath scalded Claude's face.
"I'm going to have to whip your fruity little ass." His tone was deliberate.
Tom Sue's tone had become more resigned.
"I don't like fruits," he said, the words addressed to the girl rather than to Claude.
"Get over into those bushes." Tom was pointing back inside the gate, toward the clump of greenery a couple of hundred yards away from the wooden equipment shack. Claude moved, spurred by the occasional contact of his body with Tom's, and Sue followed them both.
There was a small shaded grove, miraculously obscured from the rest of the field behind the west bleachers. Sue stood at Tom's side, facing Claude. Her fingers grasped the boy's thick forearm, but her face was blank of either sympathy or anger.
Claude watched in horror as Tom pulled his thick cowhide belt from his jeans. Sue's eyes widened, and her lips twitched nervously. She was fascinated by the way the leather hung, the end of the belt touching the grass. She looked up at Tom, her glance not without admiration, but Tom was staring into Claude's frightened eyes.
"All right, fairy. Drop trou."
"Huh?" The question came out a primal grunt.
"Pull down your panties, girlie."
Claude hesitated a moment, waiting for something to save him.
The moment passed and Tom repeated the command, this tune his voice a harsher snarl. Claude unbuckled his belt and pushed his levis to his knees. His cock and scrotum were tucked in a lumpy bulge at the crotch of his undershorts.
"Get them off too." Tom paused and turned to Sue. "Right, sugar?" Sue turned away from the younger boy and looked into Tom's face, her lips curled into a pleased smile.
When his clothes were a crumpled pile at his feet, Claude stepped to the side.
"Lie down!" Claude got on the grass. The cold made him shiver, pushing his buttocks into the ground.
Sue stood at his feet, her eyes straining for every detail of Claude's penis. The boy's legs were sprawled apart.
"Not that way, you fruit. On your stomach."
Claude turned over, his jagged hipbone smashing into the ground as he rolled on his side. His phallus was tucked between his legs, and only a fraction of the scrotum could be seen by the two teenagers staring at his backside. Claude's buttocks were round, taut. His back was slightly tanned, but the cheeks were white-pink.
Tom knelt at Claude's side, the belt clenched tightly in his fist. Sue followed suit immediately at Claude's other side. The boy and the girl stared into each other's eyes for a moment, testing the measure of each other's desire to whip the boy and degrade him. Sue looked away, but as quickly looked back. O'Hara's eyes were steady, and now his face was contorted in a toothy smile.
He opened his other hand and motioned her back. She moved back on her knees, her fingers taking hold of the front of her plaid skirt as she did. O'Hara doubled the whip and flicked it teasingly at Claude's ass. The boy's flesh quivered with the light contact.
Sue's mouth opened wide with a gasp at the first heavy crack of the leather across Claude's cheeks. The muscle reddened after the second stroke of the whip, and the third slash assaulted him in the small of his back. His whole body jerked under the belt as it hit him there. He felt the pain circle around and settle in his stomach in a single spasm.
With the next lash Tom tried to hit the rims of the buttocks. The leather fell just inside the space between, and Claude gasped for air, the breath rasping against his dry throat. The fear seemed to lodge like a solid ball in the middle of his windpipe.
Tom got up, the belt hanging from his clenched fist. "Don't move." He advanced a few steps until his feet pointed at Claude's head.
"What are you going to do, Tom?" The girl's voice was part fear, part titillated anticipation.
"Push up," he said, his voice an imitation of a drillmaster.
"What?" laughed Sue.
"Push up, Claudie-Maudie," O'Hara barked again, moving the toe of his shoe to touch Claude's forehead. The boy's arms moved and lifted him off the ground.
"He can't do a single push-up. He's in the worst group in phys ed. He can't do a single one. He can lift himself, like that, and he can let himself down all the way, but he can't keep himself three-quarters off the ground." Claude's toes and palms touched the ground. O'Hara kicked his shoulder lightly, but hard enough to make Claude lose his position and fall on his chest.
"Guess what I'm going to do, bugger." Tom waited, the pause theatrical, as if he expected Claude to answer. Sue's brows flexed with the same question as her eyes flashed from Tom's face to Claude's naked butt.
O'Hara smiled at Sue. "I'm gonna, show him something he really likes."
Sue's eyes widened. She watched, her body still, as he undid the fly on his slacks. Claude watched him pull his pecker out with mixed feelings of contempt and curiosity. It was big, but it was flabby, un-erect. The foreskin almost totally covered the head. It was long, too, five inches at least, even when flaccid.
"Oh, Tom…" Sue laughed naughtily.
Tom pulled on the cock. He stretched it out, then let it spring back and fall down, hanging again from his crotch. But the dick twitched, and it became thicker and harder in stages as Tom stroked and squeezed it.
Claude's fear, the worst part of it, was over. The belt had frightened him, but no one's genitals would – man's or woman's. Even homosexual rape, which he didn't think would happen, at least with Sue there, was no real threat. The boy's prick was smaller than Tony's, and Tony had entered him a half-dozen times. His relief took the form of passivity, just as his fear had, minutes before.
The phallus was stiff now, and it pointed up like a tower from its root on Tom's belly. Playfully the athlete pushed it down, and it bobbed back up to the previous angle. "Only you can't have it," he said, tauntingly, teasingly. "It's not for fruits."
Tom moved toward Sue, who was sitting on the grass, her hands folded under her bottom. Tom bowed his knees a bit and pointed the penis at the girl's face.
She grasped it halfway down the shaft and pushed it down, easing her head forward, her lips puckering before they touched the bulb.
"See this, you motherfuckin' fag? Bet you'd like to be doing this wouldn't 'ya?" Tom's head turned slightly to the side to watch Claude's reaction, but the younger boy's face did not change, Sue's eyes glanced beyond the side of Tom's hip, and her eyes met Claude's. His coolness impressed her. He's not a fag, she knew suddenly. He's not a fag.
Still, her mouth was hungry for the solid flesh that filled it and shoved at the insides of her cheeks and pushed at her throat. She grated her teeth against the upper and lower sides of the prick as they clamped down lightly three inches beyond the head. Her fingers threaded through his pubic hair, and she rubbed the skin.
"I'll tell you what, Claude," Tom said, placing his hand flat on Sue's head as she continued to blow him, "I'm gonna let you see something I'll bet you've never seen. And never will." He looked down at Sue, tightening his body. She glanced up and knew he was no longer interested in the sucking.
"Get up and take your clothes off, Susie," he said, his voice deep and yet coy. Sue rose gracefully, licking her lips clean.
"No, Tom."
"Sure, why not? It's not like anyone besides me is gonna see you naked. Claudie over there doesn't count. He'd rather not see a chick without clothes. Claude does it strictly for guys, huh, Claude?"
Sue shrugged and turned her back to Tom. O'Hara unzipped the top, and her small, lithe body slithered out of her clothing and then her frilly underwear. Her breasts pushed against the too-large bra cups.
Claude watched her avidly as she undressed, while she was gauging his reactions. He was excited by her nudity, but he was determined not to flatter her by offering signs of that excitement. She seemed to be posing for him, though O'Hara's eyes devoured the slim body. His attention was, Claude thought thankfully, switched from him to the girl.
Tom was fiddling in his back pocket. He retrieved a small packet and pulled out a rolled prophylactic. "You put it on, Sue," he said, handing the rubber to the girl.
"We're going to do it right here, Tom?" She shrugged when the athlete nodded.
She forced the end of the sheath against his bulbous head with her thumb, while the fingers of both hands pushed the device down his erect prick. She smoothed out the wrinkles, and Tom's hips moved it out of her reach. She lay on the grass, her body parallel with Claude's, a few feet away, and spread her limbs wide apart as O'Hara sank down, bending forward to fuck.
He twisted the head from side to side against her sex lips. Sue licked her fingers with her tongue and then massaged the saliva into the labia, pulling at her own folds so that he could push the bulk of the rod inside her. She moved her forefinger away from the lips and rolled its tip over her clitoris, which grew under the pressure.
He surged forward and thrust into her. Her muscles closed around him, tight and dry, and Sue's fingernails bit into his back as the sharp sensation filled her. Some moisture was released from the internal tissue, and his next stroke was smoother, easier, though the fit was just as tight.
The sight of their bodies working together, joined sexes pumping and pushing, excited Claude against his will. He breathed in deeply and braced himself as his own prick began to stiffen and swell. Still lying on his stomach, he involuntarily pushed his solid penis against the cool grass. The grass ran smooth and dry against the glans and the foreskin. His balls were heavy with sperm. He moved slightly forward against the grounds cutting a path through a green tuft of lawn. When he moved back just as carefully he felt the globule of cream his slit had emitted in the previous thrust. He tried to keep from breathing too loud and disturbing Sue and Tom, who were fucking in earnest.
His hands were under her back, his knees between her sprawled thighs. He was forcing his whole prick up the slick cunt, and he supported her as she beat out a response with her counterthrusts.
"Say it, Sue. Say it."
"All right," she said in a half-whisper, her voice calm and measured. "Fuck me. Fuck me all the way. Put it all the way inside me."
"Say it again."
"Fuck me…"
The words triggered him, and he started to move inside her like a frightened animal, drowning his heavy cock inside her cunt. He jerked his pelvis in a circle and pushed at the cylinder of pliable, moistening muscle, making the opening larger around his cock as it entered her and shoved, thrust after thrust.
She brought her legs up, and the soles pushed into the ground at the sides of his lower legs. She was raising her buttocks by pressing up on her feet, and her cunt followed his swiveling prick. Her ass began to slap silently against the grass and dirt, and she brought her head up and kissed him with her open mouth. When her face had streaked across his, his lips were wet with her spit and his tongue had moved out, searching for hers. He kissed her again just as he pushed into her all the way. He felt the heat but not the moisture through the rubber film, but it was her naked fingers that played knees, drawing her legs to her chest and stationing her with his testes. She drove them back against the root of his cock and then wrenched the skin back; his balls bobbed within.
"Fuck me," she groaned, now in earnest, and Claude's penis slid against the grass and shot his cream off into the mesh of cellulose and dirt. The head, when he finally was through, pushed back against his stomach, inches below the navel, and covered the smooth skin with thick gobs of heavy seed.
Tom's ass tightened as he delivered his sperm. Sue hadn't cum; she could not feel him go off inside the rubber. She just felt the whir of his cock down her greased tract, and she tried to move up against it as fast as he tried to pull down.
He had begun to slow when she opened up and moved, one wrenching spasm after another against him, smashing his stomach and rubbing her damp crotch against him. She scratched a line down the middle of his scrotum, and the testes rolled against the skin as he smashed the prick's bulbous head into one wall and then the other. He slid in at last, burying his own pubic hair inside hers, and his cock began to deflate almost immediately. He pulled it out of her casually and rolled the wrapper down the penis with difficulty. Wrinkled against his contracting bulk, semen had seeped along the sides of the cock, and the thin transparent rubber stuck to the meat, glued there by his cum.
Tom lay, on his back. He tucked his penis inside his briefs, though he did not bother to close the front of his trousers. He glanced at Sue. Her body was an exhausted heap, drawn together in an almost embryonic position, and her skin was covered with a thin sheen of perspiration. She had hidden her nipples behind her chin between the two. Claude stared at the grass, an inch away. He was relaxed. He expected to be let go.
"You know, I think we can do something to really get old Claudie mad." He looked at the younger boy, then at his girlfriend. She looked up, then let her chin rest again.
"Why don't you fuck him?"
"Oh, come on, Tommy." There was a slight edge of anger to the voice, though she assumed O'Hara was kidding her and teasing Claude.
"No, I mean it."
"You know I've never…"
"I know."
"Never. You were the first, Tommy."
"Sure. But this isn't really fucking. Besides, wouldn't you like to see how it feels when a fruit does it to you?"
She looked at Claude. She had instinctively expected some reaction from him. Though his penis, sticky now with dried cum, was filling again with blood, he froze his facial muscles. He did not want to give himself away just yet. He knew from the way her eyes surveyed his body that she was curious. Not anxious, perhaps, but curious.
"For you, I'd do it if you really want me to."
Claude concentrated on the grass, trying to make himself think of anything but sex. It worked. The bloated prick had shriveled by the time O'Hara was directing him to turn over.
"You better get on top of him, Sue. Otherwise he'll try to run away, maybe." O'Hara laughed at his own joke.
Sue took Claude's cock between her fingers and thumb. It was damp, but she assumed the moisture was sweat. She squeezed the shaft, then pulled the phallus back toward her and rubbed the head against her pubic hairs as she rolled her labial skin up and down, her crotch gyrating.
"Just push him inside you. He's never gonna get hard anyway." O'Hara stopped and paused a moment. "Maybe I should take out my prick like before. Then he could get it up couldn't you, Claudie?"
Standing, he watched while Sue pulled one of the labial folds to the side and tried to tuck the small phallus inside her. She squatted down and stuffed a couple more of the flabby inches between her cunt walls.
She clamped the muscles together with all her might. When she let go, the cock slowly spurted to attention inside her. She smiled as she slithered down the erection. She watched Claude's face attentively as her body dipped down and took his penis, but there was no reaction written there. She swayed around the cock and thrust her stomach out when he was all the way in.
Claude waited, letting her do all the moving. O'Hara was standing at the girl's side, looking down as they moved with and against each other. Motion and flesh covered Claude's prick – or the little of it that ever was left out of her cunt as she pushed down on it.
He wanted to reach up and touch her tits, but that would have given him away. He contented himself by watching the small mounds roll against the narrow bones. She leaned forward and pushed her nails into the dirt at Claude's sides. Above, O'Hara seemed surprised by her enthusiasm. She threw her cunt forward and rolled the ring of wet tissue around the dick below her. Her muscles throbbed, dilating around the cock before it gripped it again. She slid down, and his cock went off inside her. The cream fountained up; the walls were drenched with wet heat. Her breasts, tits frozen, moved up and down and from side to side as she came with him, rocking against his erection, Claude shut his eyes and let his cock take over, jabbing her again and again.
"Son of a bitch," O'Hara mumbled in amazement while their bodies slipped and slid on and against each other. "Son of a bitch queer," he said aloud, over their heavy breathing when the orgasm had been spent.