It was two days later. Again that crazy crave crawled in Sharon's pelvis. She could feel the itch, the desire. She could sense it growing. She knew it was there, alive like an animal, like a terrified beast seeking solace from a dreaded hunter. The beast hid in first one corner of her twat, and then laid flat on the bottom of the cave, and then it stood up and reared his head outwards, as if to challenge all comers: "Fuck me! Fuck me! See if you can fuck me!"
She felt it growing stronger, more needy, hornier. She needed something inside her devilishly hot bod. She needed it soon. Which would have been just Jim Dandy, but the crave struck her while she was sitting in the living room watching t.v. with her parents. Her mother sat knitting, and her father, Mr. Pettibone sat glazed over and motionless, like some sort of ceramic sculpture, watching nothing but the blue glare off the set. "Jesus," Sharon felt like screaming, "don't you all want to do something else?"
But she stifled the tiny scream and went about her business, that being sitting still and watching the tube. "Oh, God," she moaned inside her head, "isn't there some way out of this?" She stood up and said aloud: "I'm going to do some homework." Neither of her parents looked up. Her father, however, like a talking potato, said at the blue glare: "Don't you go and start doing you know what…"
Of course she knew "what", but nothing her father was saying could possibly stop her. He didn't know, and perhaps that was part of his problem, that the sex drive was far stronger than any reprimand he could possibly inflict on his daughter's young consciousness. She left the room silently, supposedly obediently, and then she rushed out the back door of the house, out into the backyard where it was dark and a summer heat filled the night with a black humidity. There were a few stars twinkling vaguely up above. Sharon spread herself out under the sky on the backyard lawn. She was wearing cotton shorts and her smooth tanned legs, even in the night, were shining nicely. She unbuttoned the top button of her little shorts and reached her hand, her fingers, down through her curly mound and into the flesh breach where her lusty juices boiled for attention.
"Oh, God," she moaned up at the nighttime sky, "won't you please, please send me a man… a man to fuck my twat and make me cum… Make me cum… make me cum…" She closed her eyes and let one finger do the necessary work. A single digit slid along next to her clitoris, rubbed it softly and made the thing tight and rubbery. The twitching digit flicked the hot clit meat. "Oh, nice," muttered young Sharon Pettibone, "I think that's nice."
It was easy for her to see Davey, the Dover boy on whom she had a severe crush, whipping out his phallus and flinging it at her like a Frizbee. She caught it in the twat and pulled him down on top of her body, pulled him close so that his big mushroom headed meat went zinging and grinding into her hole. She held him by the rump, by his pounding jackhammer ass cheeks, and she rubbed a finger up and down along his anus. She made sure that his penis was all the way up inside her pussy, all the way down her channel and making her hotter and lustier than ever. She liked the feel from that big sword, the way he worked out on her mound, the way his balls went softly clanging against the inside of her smooth spread loins. She lifted her thighs in order to be able to get more of the imaginary meat.
"Ahhhh, God, yes," she muttered. She spread her legs wider and got more and more of her finger-fucking action going in her pussy. She made sure to work out especially hard on her pussy with her digits. It only took her a minute to get that little clit meat of hers all the way up, fried and greasy. It wasn't enough that it had been twitching and hard. It had to be greasy hot, rolling in goo, so stimulated and erotically high that it was ready to pop off her cunt with ecstasy.
And when it finally was that hot, when Sharon's clit meat was really good and sassy and ready to roll that way, she reached down around her hips, let her legs slide flat on the backyard lawn, and pulled her shorts off. She unbuttoned her blouse and took that off, too. It was one of the rare occasions that she wore a bra, so she had to get up and undo it also. Her goal was to run naked in her parents' backyard, even with them present, and she was doing it now. She had all her clothes off and she was streaming around the yard in the nude. She was as happy as a bird is free, and her pussy was juicing wildly. "Oh God," she moaned flopping down in the middle of the backyard, "if they could see me now they'd have me arrested. But I don't care. This is the way it should always be." She spread her legs again and this time she stroked her pussy with several fingers at once. She rubbed her little bare bodkin of a twat-dick up and down and from side to side. She rolled over on her belly and stuffed her cunt with one hand and her asshole with a finger from the other. She filled her bunghole right up, and in the same rhythm, in exactly the same cadence with which she rubbed a finger in and out of her pie.
It didn't take the fifteen year old nymph long to think of something nice to make her even hotter. She saw young Davey rolling in the grass next to her. She got up on her hands and knees and said: "Davey, fuck my bunghole. Put that big thick boner of yours up my anus tube and make me cum." She climbed down between his legs and took his hard cock muscle into her lips. She licked the head of the prong with her splayed tongue. She used the broad side of her mouth muscle to coat the shaft. Soon she announced that she was ready: "Stick it up my arse, Davey. That's the way I want it, right on up my ass-hole." She reached back, leaning on her face, and used both hands to unfold her ass flesh. Her fanny beckoned to him: come to me and fuck it!
He lifted his hot poker and pressed the head of it into place. He jammed the mushroom spearhead down the channel entrance and aimed for bowel territory. He was in her ass-hole, one inch, two, three, five inches, six inches all the way in.
"Oh, God," she screeched. "Oh, fucking God All Mighty! Oh, fffuuuuccckkkk!" She nearly climbed a tree in order to get away from the terrific pressure of his meat in her distended anal track. "Please," she begged, "I didn't mean it! It's just too much! You have to slow down! Please slow down! You have to give me a break! Please!" But Davey didn't stop. He kept pounding and hammering his wedge of hot cock meat into her asshole. He slid down deep inside the narrow tube. When he hit bowel territory, he shifted gears and went cautiously in circles. He plied her anus circle with delicate accuracy. The thickest part of his boner took care of that.
"You must get off," she moaned.
He wrapped his hands around her waist. His one hand took care of her twat while the other drifted upwards to her large hanging breasts. There he kneaded creamy flesh, titillated delightful nipples, worked hard and diligently to get her titties as hot as possible. When the chest began to perspire and ooze a sensual aroma from its pores, he let up on the large mammaries. He took to squeezing her loins with both hands. At no time, though, did he ever extract his flesh injector from her bunghole.
"God fucking damn!" she cried out at him. "Won't you please…" It was useless. She crawled around the backyard with Davey hot muscle crammed up her asshole, so far into her bowels that she couldn't breathe without feeling it. It was in her up to the hilt, and there was no way of avoiding the excruciating pain of that huge muscle gyrating in her rump.
Soon Davey could feel the long tender muscles of Sharon's ass going to work on his flesh stick. They contracted and undulated around his meaty hard-on. They seemed to work automatically, rolling and milking his rod for everything that they could get from it. Long, smooth waves of contraction began at the base of his meat, in the sphincter band, and they passed smoothly up along the stem, through the shaft and across the heart-shaped head. They pumped at his jism-producing rod until he came dangerously close to shooting off his wad.
Then, with his erection sweaty and heated and ready for the big killing up Sharon's asshole, he pulled out. He reared back with a big smile. Sharon turned around and asked what the problem was. Davey told her that he liked to feel her asshole around his cock, but that he preferred, when it came to orgasm, to be inside her pussy. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He took her hands away from him, however, and said that he must go and wash himself first. She made him promise not to tell anybody what she was about to do. He winced but didn't stop her. She went down on his cock with her mouth and cleaned him that way.
A moment later she was on her back, however, with his big thick meat deep in her V. He was all the way up inside her cave. The twat muscles were going wild, seething with desire. It seemed that the more muscle he gave her the more she wanted. The hotter he made her the hornier she became. He rubbed and pushed and shoved his joint in and out of her slippery oily hole. "Mmm," he hummed from time to time, noting the different slides, the new angles, the various positions that they assumed in order to get off on this one fuck. "Jesus," he grunted, "you certainly do have the twat for it, baby. I have to say that…" He rammed his point all the way home, slid a finger around her hips and into her anus, and filled her bunhole with just as much boney finger as he was using phallus to fill her pussy.
"God damn, Davey," she moaned, "you got me going from both ends now. You really fucking do!" She waved her ass from side to side and his boner went sliding nicely against the two walls of her pussy entrance. Those juicy lips worked their ooze into the meat of his hard-on. "I love it," he told her. "Keep moving like that." He pursed his lips and took to sucking on one of her cherry nipples. The thing was hot, and the breast below was covered with goose bumps. She enjoyed the licking of her titty almost as much as she liked the feel of his boner in her pussy, his finger in her anus. "You're good," she told him. "You're really fucking good, Davey."
Suddenly – Sharon didn't know why – she came back to reality. She was curled into a fetal ball at the distal end of the back yard. She thought she heard something. She took her two fingers, one from each hand, out from her two pelvic holes. She stared back in the direction of the porch. She heard the screen door open. It must have been her mother and father, for one of them called into the night and at the same time there was another voice whispering. She lay perfectly still, like a hunted animal, and tried not to give herself away. A moment later the voices died down. Sharon decided that she might be better off getting dressed for a moment, returning to the house and finishing herself off in the privacy of her bedroom.
She made her way across the backyard, grabbed up her shorts and slipped into them. She quickly drew on her blouse and entered the house as quietly as possible. In the dark of her bedroom she slipped out of her clothes again and climbed into bed. She could smell on her naked body the grass she'd been rolling in as well as the scent of her own sweet honey pot. "My, my," she said, "I really do get carried away sometimes."
Her chief reason for coming back into the house was to retrieve the dildo. She reached under her mattress and grabbed hold of the thick plastic handle. She felt a ripple of relief, a slight tremor, pass through her body as she griped the thing. She pulled it out from under the bed and brought it into position, in her two fists, above her spread pussy lips. She slid it downwards, pushed it into the hollow flesh cave there, and enjoyed the benefits of her well-lubricated, slightly oozing hole. The machine went all the way back inside her body. She breathed quietly so as to avoid making any unnecessary sound which might bring her parents. Then, with her attention riveted to the feel in her pussy, she clicked the battery-operated penis into full gear and felt a heart-stopping surge (of sexual energy gushing in every direction at once within her pussy and across her mound) as the egg-beater took on speed for its highly stimulating rub.
"Oh, Jesus," she cried out, and again she saw young Davey coming at her, his hog fully erect, his legs sweaty and his waist tied round with leather straps. "Davey?" she said softly. "Is that you?" It was then, as she spoke, that she discovered the manacles on her hands and feet, the spread of her loins, the halter around her mound. She was as spread wide with a metal binding which strapped her vagina open. Her hands and ankles were tied back to the wet wall of a cave of some sort. And Davey was snapping a whip, cracking it closer and closer to her body. "No," she said, "please, not that. Not the whip. Anything but the whip."
Davey smiled.
She gushed from her twat, from the feel of the dildo working out at full speed. The machine was in high gear. It beat at her clit. The little twat prick was being rubbed vigorously. Long smooth muscles inside her pussy responded in kind. They secreted some heavenly oil, a perfume yet to be matched by the most inventive French perfume manufacturers. She slid her legs backwards, so that the tops of her young virgin thighs, blond and slick, pressed on her nipples, against her big teats. "Oh, Jesus," she moaned as the dildo continued to roll in and out of her body. "I love it. I really do fucking love it…" She applied a finger to her available, vulnerable anus. She worked her digits in and out of her ass-hole as she used the machine to keep her pussy wide and gushing.
"I'm cuming," she moaned. "I really am cuming!" She thought for a moment that she was a little too loud, that she was making too much noise and that her parents would come into the room, that her father would scold and chastise her, maybe even beat her again. But the thought of being spanked made young Sharon Pettibone even hotter and lustier than she was before. She stroked up and down in her juice-filled cunt. Her channel contracted involuntarily as orgasm started to follow upon orgasm. She was climaxing vigorously around the prong of the battery-operated dildo. She was cuming all over her fingers and all over the plastic machine. There would surely be a hefty splotch in the morning, a puddle of juice under her fanny. She wondered if she should go on with the ecstasy producing finger-fucking and dildo-masturbating that she was doing. But it was impossible for her to think clearly in such a state of total pleasure. She could only picture young Davey and how nice it was to feel his hot muscular body against her own, rubbing against her titties, fucking her cunt, rubbing on her ass cheeks and massaging her everywhere, especially inside.
"Oh, God," she moaned, "Davey, fuck me! Fuck me really hard, Davey! You make me cum! You make me so juicy and hot! You turn me into a lust beast!"
"Yeah, sweetheart," she heard him say. "That's because you're so good. You have such nice smooth thighs and such a pretty little smile. How could I not like you, eh? You tell me – how could I not get a kick out of rubbing my pecker inside your twat-hole?" Davey smiled and continued to spear young Sharon Pettibone's hot wet canal. He gave her everything he had, all of his jumbo ten inch prick, his finger up her ass hole, his mouth on her mouth, his tongue in her face, his muscular chest against her creamy soft pendular titties. He rocked down deep, and all of his mushroom head impaled the squirming teenager. He tacked her down to the ground, pumped his joint into the back of her orgasmic hole and let her have it with a machine-gun spray of hot sperm bullets, every one of which went ricocheting around inside her flooded twat canyon.
"Oh, Jesus Christ, fucking Lord, oh, fuck, piss -cunt, fuck, shit!" She wailed at him, rolled her hips up and down and climbed his meaty trunk. She took all of his meat into her pussy and rubbed it with her long smooth muscles. She felt his jism juice filling her up, puddling inside her hole. "I love you, Davey," she moaned. "I love you because you fuck me in the twat and in the mouth and in the ass-hole. I love you because you have ten inches of the biggest hottest meatiest dick I ever saw. You hear me, Davey? I love that hot phallus of yours, and I love that big thick stem, and those hot nuts!"
She came momentarily back to reality. She looked around the room. It was dark. She was alone. She heard someone coming in the front door. It would have to be her sister, Debby. She felt like crying. That's how happy she was that she had had such a nice orgasm. "Oh, God," she moaned to herself as she slipped the dildo back under the mattress. "That was really something."
A moment later her bedroom door opened. It was Debby, her sister. "Sis," whispered Debby who was already undressing. "Sis? Are you awake?"
"Yes," said Sharon. "Wide awake. What's up?"
"I just had the most fabulous date! You wouldn't believe it!"
"I wish I could say the same," said Sharon. "I had to jack myself off again."
"Oh, boy," said Debby, "that's too bad because fucking, really getting a meaty dick grinding you in your pussy – well, there's nothing finer than that! And that's what I got tonight! Oh, boy, was it good! You know what I mean? Nothing could have made me happier. I just loved to feel that hot meat of his grinding away inside my cunt hole."
"I wish I could say," said Sharon, "that I knew what you meant."
"Don't worry," said Debby who was now naked and ready for bed, "someday you'll find a man who will satisfy you, who will take your virginity and let you know what a thrill it is to fuck. Don't you worry about that!" She climbed into her bed which was just a little ways away from Sharon's.
After a few moments, Debby asked quietly of Sharon: "Are you awake, little sister? Are you still awake?"
Sharon was still awake, dreaming about what it would be like to have a real cock in her twat instead of a dildo, but she didn't answer her sister. She didn't think it mattered. She just lay quiet as though she were asleep because she just wanted to think about bow nice it would be to have the real McCoy. Then, suddenly, as if from nowhere, she heard a labored panting, a gasping, a huffing and a puffing. She looked sideways in the dark and saw that her sister's sheets were loaded and rolling. Debby's hands slid up and down under the crisp linen where she was hard at it, rubbing and tugging at her clitoris. She, too, despite all of her enthusiasm for the "real thing" had her thighs spread and her cunt lips open so that she could jam with her fingers, so that she could, one last time before falling asleep that night, masturbate.
"Oh, God," sighed young Sharon Pettibone, "that really is funny! That must be the funniest thing I've seen in weeks!" And with that the teenage nymph rolled over and slipped a finger, as was her custom as she fell asleep, between her wet twat lips. "That's just too funny," she mumbled, and she was about to say something else to herself, but already she had dozed off.