It didn't take long for Janet Tibbleton to acquire a rather lengthy list of lovers, men and woman of all vocations and walks of life, who were quite willing, even on such short notice as a telephone call, to come running to her bedside in order to make the really futile effort to satisfy her truly insatiable carnal appetite. As a matter of fact, by the time she'd been a teenage bride for no less that the term of a pregnancy- and it must be remembered that when she began her marriage she was virgin and pure as the driven snow-she'd developed the stamina of a bull. This or that man, cordially invited to the house in the absence of Tom Tibbleton, found his departure courteously (and sometimes rudely) requested when screwed weak and dry after a remarkably short period of time.
Naturally, Janet had her favorites, her special men and lovers who made sex for her pure joy. Suck was the case with the lad Stan, and on occasion, with the grocery clerk, Jack. But when she analysed the facts of the matter Janet discovered that her real love, and thus what satisfied her about these partucular men, was not their fortitude but their youth. It was, as they say, a purely emotional issue. Though she herself was a "child bride," married at seventeen, her real love was not for men in general, she was discovering, but for men in puberty. As with every generalization, there was one exception: Tom Tibbleton. There was no avoiding it. She couldn't understand why, but no matter who else she fucked, no matter what male, what female, what masturbatory tool she might have used, nothing satisfied her quite so much as her very own husband. Call it romance, call it Tom's dumb luck, call it nonsense-whatever it was, Janet Tibbleton felt like hell if she didn't get her daily dose of Tom's thick meat. This is not to say that Tom alone could have quenched his teenage wife's incredible sexual cravings. Not by a long shot. I?ut the combination of any two men which did not include as one of the choices her husband, resulted in frustration. And so it was that she patterned her love life in accord with this mystical formula. She would fuck a boy in the afternoon, and Tom in the evening. Or, vice versa: she would fuck Mr. Tibbleton in the early a.m., before he went on his way to the studio, and later that day she would finish off the inevitable vaginal crave with a quickie from some pubescent boy in the neighborhood. Often times she would have the two affairs lined up like bowling pins. She'd time the event of her sexual intercourse in such a manner that as her husband left via one door, a twelve-year-old little girl came in the back door (for the obvious purpose). The proximity of the two fucks aided in her sexual excitement in two ways. One, she was still hot from the previous fucking, and, two, there was a certain sense of danger involved. Or, so she believed until one very, very strange day, a day, which made all the difference in her future love life…
It happened that Tom had missed a night. He'd not been in the mood for fondling his pretty wife's teenage titties, and he'd gone soundly to sleep without so much as a kiss to her clit. Though it had long been his habit to at least provide her a quick "go" in the late evening, on this particular evening, dead tired from his work, he no sooner hit the sheets when he was fast asleep. And every effort to wake him for even a token effort toward sex failed miserably.
The next morning, when Janet finally woke-she'd slept late because without her sex she'd tossed and turned until the wee hours-Tom had already left for work. She paced the room dialing one number after another to seek a quick little climax. Somehow, it was just one of those days, and she was unable to track down batteries, even, for her dildo. She ended that tool by tossing it in abject frustration against the back wall of the bedroom where it shattered a mirror to a thousand pieces.
Nude, angered, no longer able to enjoy exotic combinations with vegetables and pencils, disinterested in even a steaming enema, unmoved by the notion of rubbing her pussy on a door handle, exhausted by her own pacing, she lay down on her bed and wept until her eyes hurt. "Oh, God," she cried, "what's a teenage bride to do?" Her cute little ass even looked red with-frustration instead of its normal creamy white, as if her rectum had been crying. She pounded her pillow until her fists grew tired, and then she rolled onto her back, big pendular titties following her over, and tried one last time to prestidigitate her cunt-prick to life. She rubbed her finger across the unusually cool button, and discovering it dry, applied a bit of spittle to her fingers and repeated the effort. But it was, as she suspected, no go.
Drained of all emotion, she calculated logically that she could run down her list of lovers one more time, call them all again, and see if just one of them might be available. She nearly didn't call young Stan, her twelve year old lover, but at the last minute, despite the risk involved, dialed the child's home number. To her surprise and delight, the boy himself answered. "Listen, Stan," she said softly, trying to hide her sense of panic, "how would you like to come over and kiss a little with me. Just for a little while. Would you like that?" There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then she heard Stan whisper:
"I'll sneak out in about a half-hour." Janet started to say, "I can't wait a half-" But the line went dead. She hung up and did things to keep herself busy.
She took a quick shower, arranged the bedroom sheets so that they were neat and clean and crisp, powdered and perfumed her supple flesh, and spread herself out on the bed. The child, through previous such encounters, knew how to let himself into the house through the backyard, and Janet was betting that he would follow this procedure on this occasion, too. Sure enough, no sooner had she stretched her twat lips open with two fingers, when she heard the steady roll of the boy's feet coming down the hallway. "Oh, God, at last," she moaned. The boy entered smiling and happy to see his naked teenage lover. "Hi, Janet," he said, stripping quickly. "You horny?"
"Oh, yes, Stan," she said. "I need you a lot to kiss me today." She eyed the child's member. Even since she'd met him a couple of months before, his gentials had grown larger, his pubic forest more dense. "You're getting to be quite a young man now," she told him. She anticipated that the youth would fuck her quickly, would hold her over until Tom arrived home, and that would take care of the day. She began to breathe easy as the child climbed up onto her body.
"Where should we start?" she asked. "Do you want a liitle kiss on your penis?"
"You mean a blow job?" said the boy in imitation of what he thought a man should say.
"Now, now," said Janet, "don't be nasty. A kiss on your penis is what I meant." She rolled over and pressed her lips to the youth's hot muscle. It was nearly erect by the time he got up onto the bed, and now, with a few licks, the entire mushroom head was twitching spasmodically at full strength. Not wanting to waste the child-man's enthusiasm and jism, she released his prick from her face and asked him to eat her for a bit. He smiled and cordially went about the task she'd so painstakingly taught him to do. He licked her clit up and down, rubbed it with his tongue, ate out the center of her hole with eager fever. He rubbed his nose, even, in the clit juice pie. He sucked up the clit meat and the environs and she began to bounce with glee. "That's it, darling," she moaned. "That's just perfect. You're my favorite lover of all time. You do that so well, it's the best ever."
The boy smiled, wiped his face clean and dry, and climbed up on the teenage woman's chest. His kissed her big nipples and she reached down to play with his well-developed bone-on. "I like your penis, Stan," she said. "It's big and hard today, and it's always growing just a little bigger, it seems to me."
"Thanks," said the boy. "I like that." Then he took his rod in his own hand and shoved it between young Janet's twat lips. He pierced down to the core of her slender hole and enjoyed the superior soft flesh of her sweet cunt tube.
"Oh, yes," moaned Janet. "That's the way. I like that. Yes, Stan my little one, that's just perfect." She rolled her hips up and down and jerked the boy's hefty prick muscle with her interior pussy girp. She tied herself onto his joint with a quick slide and tug. She made sure that she got all of his hot poker into the back of her flesh cave where it would fill her up the most. And as for his stroke power, she was sure to use up every inch of his sliding rod in a steady caress to her excited clitoris. "Mmmm," she hummed, "now you've got me going, little one. You've got me hot and bothered. It's going to make the day very special."
Young Stan, not yet thirteen, could feel the pressure in his nuts getting tighter and tighter. He was just about ready to explain to Janet that his prick would soon explode inside her when she stopped rolling her hips altogether. "Did you hear something?" she asked.
"No, Janet," said the child. "You're so turned on you think you hear things, eh?"
"Don't be nasty to adults, Stan. I thought I heard something. Like my husband's car."
"Would he care if he found out you were balling me?" asked the boy, his prick still deep in Janet's cunt.
"Oh, yes. He certainly would. He doesn't know about you or any of my lovers."
"Oh, I see," said Stan. He started pumping harder and faster, giving young Janet her nymphomaniac's fill of hot beef. A moment later he shot his terrific wad of jism all the way into her tube. The soft flesh of her cunt squeezed and milked the rest of his jism from his twitching young rod. When it was all over for the both of them, he climbed off and asked Janet if she had a cigarette handy. "It's not good for a little boy to be smoking," she said.
"Ah, forget it," he said. "I'll get one at home." He dismounted from the bed and dressed as quickly as he'd earlier undressed. "I'll see ya whenever," he said.
"Yeah, bitchin', Stan," said Janet. "And thanks a lot. I was really depressed until you did that for me."
The child smiled and left as he'd come. But Janet was not entirely convinced that she hadn't heard some sound a moment or two before. And she went to the front door just to be sure. There she saw, standing on the street, her husband in conversation with a neighbor. "Phew," she moaned, "that was close." She rushed to the bedroom, fixed the sheets, and then hopped into the shower. She didn't understand what Tom was doing home already, and come to think of it, she couldn't figure out why young Stan was not in school that day. She put both things out of her mind and scrubbed her sweet little twat and her lovely brown anus hole. Then she climbed out of the shower ready for the finishing touches to her combination fuck sequence: she'd had the child, now for Tom-the day would be complete.
Tom came in a moment later, just as she was drying her lovely supple body in the bedroom. "Darling," he said, "I'm sorry about last night. I'm going to make it up to you right now." He took her wet tittles in his hands and squeezed them. Then one hand went sliding smoothly down to her cunt. There he fingered her clit into a twitching frenzy. She worked her pussy up and down to let him know that he was giving her a first class treatment, the kind of work out that she most enjoyed.
From that upright position the couple proceeded quickly to the bed. Tom undressed in a hurry and jumped down between his wife's spread loins. He gave the teenage girl a good solid piece of meat to work out on. She humped his joint with furious fervor. Her cunt ceiling, and consequently her stiff little clit-prick, went sliding up and down on his pecker. Her interior walls contracted vigorously, and her cave secreted profusely. There seemed to be no end to the intensity of this particular fuck session. She was getting all of her body heated at once. Tom was stroking her titties with his hands, or rocking her hips just so, or sliding a finger up her anus. She could feel her heart pounding, her blood surging in her brain as she began to search for the climax which would completely satisfy her young, comely body. She concentrated and grunted, she hitched up her legs and hung her feet so that they dangled above Tom's head, and she murmured:
"Oh, Tom, I love you, darling. You fuck me the way I need it, lover. You fuck me so nice that it's like the first time every time we do it."
"Mush," he said, paying her no mind. He went sliding his joint in and out of her willing twat as hard and as fast as he could. His mushroom prick muscle was giving her a top-knotch screwing. He was tacking her down to the bed with the enormous stroke power of a jackhammer. His bronzed prick was slamming her full of passion.
"O.k.," he said a moment later, "It's time for the other side." He rolled her over before she knew what hit her.
"Oh, yes," she cried. "Yes, Tom. Do it there." She reached back and held her buttocks apart. She gave him access to her anus hole. He shoved forward and split her body in half. He gave her all of his hot beef rod at once. "It hurts a little," she moaned. "It doesn't just ache like usual, darling. It hurts. Please slow down."
"No way, Janet," he said. "Too late for that now." He had his cock buried in her teenage asshole flesh, and he couldn't even consider the notion of giving up that tube, that smooth tight ride. He was only a stroke or two from the perfect tender teenage orgasm, and he saw no reason to deny himself the pleasure of a good juicing in her rump crotch. "Baby," he told her, "hold on because I'm going to give you all of my pudding right… fucking… ahhhhhh!" He shot off, squirted into her squeezing cavern, filled her bowels and flooded the butt cave with so much juice that her entire sphincter muscle suddenly went loose. He yanked out of her and said: "That was a nice little butt fuck, baby. You teenagers are the best fucks in the world. Maybe you're special, darling, but I think it's how old you are sometimes, you know that?" She smiled and said that the fuck was "bitchin'," but that she wanted more.
"A quick shower," said Tom, "and all you want after that, eh?"
They showered together, soaping up and making each other as slippery and hot as possible. It didn't take long for Tom Tib-bleton to get another monster erection with which to fuck his young wife. She stroked him with her tongue once she saw how big he was getting, how attractive that muscle was, and then he did the same for her. Finally, hot and lusty and ready for more sex, they climbed out of the shower and quickly dried each other.
"We have to get into bed right away," said Janet. "I'm so damn horny again. Come on."
Tom smiled and followed his teenage wife's buttocks toward the bedroom. He climbed up onto the bed with her and palmed her big brown tanned boobies. He gave her cherry nipples a fondling, also, and then he kissed her stomach. "No," she complained, "I want that hog. I want that joint in me, darling. Please let me have that prick meat of yours now?"
He couldn't stand to hear her beg, and in fact he liked to know he was so much in demand. He shoved his pecker into place between her twat lips and thrust the mushroom muscle to the rear wall. "Uuuuuuhh… ahhhh…shit!" she cried. "Oh, yeah, that's good! Darling, that's delicious!" He pounded with his hips, rocked with his pelvis, and he did all of this work in an effort to get the perfect slide going in her pussy hole. He worked slowly but surely into a kind of steady, steam roller rhythm, a cadence which made Janet Tibbleton hotter with every new stroke. Her clitoris went sliding against his mushroom crown, across the rim, and flicked back into place with each new thrust.
"Oh, Jesus," she cried. "Tom, fuck me hard. Fuck me. Fuck me harder than ever!" He slammed his rod into place, grabbed her buttocks and peeled them open, slapped a digit up into her little brown hole, and wormed around in there. His finger gouged out her anus while his cock worked steadily on her pussy tube. A moment later she was starting into orgasm. She was making the last climb up into the bliss of sexual ecstasy, and it looked to be one of the best fucks ever. Their bodies slapped against one another, and Tom's prick muscle could feel every squeeze, every milking tug, each and every fold that worked on his joint in stimulating unison. "Fuck," he grunted, "you're such a good piece of ass, honey. You're so fucking smooth and slick."
She smiled and kissed him on the lips, but she never stopped sliding her hips in undulating circles beneath his groin. She kept her legs propped high, her asshole open for his occasional fingering, and her breasts, her chest, heaving. She gasped for air and pulled his mouth close to hers. She filled his oral cavity with long hot tongue and got the same in return. Then, suddenly, as if out of nowhere, the cosmic chills of climax startled her body into a flesh rattle. She shook, quaked, and shivered like a malaria victim. Her entire comely frame went blushing red. Her smooth skin turned damp as though every pore oozed ease-juice.
"It's… coming… soon," she grunted. "It's… gonna… be fucking… damn… ooooh… ahhhhhhh… yes, Tom!" He shook her hips, as if they could move any faster, and rubbed his prick with her pussy lips and with the flesh tunnel coasting up and back on the mushroom crown of his joint. He fired off and triggered the final explosion in her teenage hole. She nearly fainted as her body contorted with ecstasy.
A moment later they lay side by side panting for breath. "Well, oh, that was something very special," said Janet, her face still flushed with heat.
"Yes," said Tom Tibbleton, "in more ways than one."
Janet paused for a moment. Something clicked in her mind. She didn't know what it was. "How's that?" she asked. "More ways than one?"
"It was our last," said Tom.
"Our last what?" asked his teenage bride.
"Our last everything," said Tom. "I don't know how to tell you this, darling, but I've fallen in love with another woman."
"What?" she asked. "I don't understand. Another woman? But Tom, who? How? You can't? Tom? We've known each other since high school and-"
"And I married you for sex, now that I think about it," said Tom. "And the sex has been fabulous, but I've met someone who…"
"Someone who what?" asked seventeen year old Janet Tibbleton, soon to join the ranks of divorced. "Someone who what?"
"Well, darling," said Tom, "I don't know quite how to put it. She has pretty legs just like you, and fine big breasts the way you have, and, believe it or not, this girl-I thought I'd never find one like her-she has a sexual appetite like yours. Why, she may even be a nyphomaniac-I don't know."
"But if she's so much like me," complained Janet who saw her sex life suddenly going up in flames, "why are you interested in her instead of me?"
"Well," said Tom Tibbleton, "the fact is, darling, that she's, well, she's…"
But Janet knew the answer without having to hear it from her soon-to-be former husband. His new love was younger than Janet, and there was no way, she knew, that she could compete with a girl like that. "Just for the hell of it," said Janet, "how old is she?"
Tom started picturing all the fun he was going to be having balling his new insatiable teenage bride. Just the thought of it made him go crazy with desire.
"Well?"
"Well what?" asked Tom Tibbleton.
"How much younger is she? I want to know! How old is she?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, darling," said Tom, coming back from his reverie. "She's, fifteen. You do understand, don't you? I just couldn't pass up the opportunity and…”
"Will you screw me just once more?" asked Janet Tibbleton, the seventeen-year-old has-been. "Just for old times sake?"
Tom smiled. "Of course, my dear. Of course." He climbed up between her supple thighs and began what Janet would remember as her last coitus with her first husband.
Years later when she reminisced with an old girlfriend she recalled it as "one hell of a good fuck."