"Here, let me put your hand on it," Bill said.
"M-My hand…?"
"Of course… you're going to jack me off… do the same thing for me… like I just did for you… You know…"
"Wh-What do you… M-mean…?" she asked.
"I'll show you!" he grunted, taking her hand and placing it on his hardened rod, curling her hand around its chunky girth. "Now, move your hand on it… up and down… until I cum!" He kept his hand around hers and demonstrated the movement.
At the first contact of her hand with his virile young cock, she tried to shrink away, the shock of actually touching the thing frightening to her.
"N-No! I–I can't… do it!" she moaned.
"Come off it, Charity! You'll either do it this way… or suck me off! I've got to have my fun, too!"
"S-Suck… on that…?" She was incredulous. "Ugh!"
He had given her a choice. She chose the former suggestion, finding it the least disagreeable. She just couldn't imagine anyone doing it. That's horrible! Why that's the nastiest thing I ever heard… sucking on a boy's t-thing!
"Sure! Millions of people do it!" he assured her.
"I don't believe it!"
"I'm just laying the facts on you!" he said, exasperated. "Here… let me put a little spit on it!" He removed her hand for a moment while he applied saliva to his upstanding prick. "There, now… move your hand… slow at first… I'll tell you when to speed up…!" His hardened cock was warm in her hand; she could feel the heat it exuded as she did his bidding, moving her hand stiffly in the up and down motion he had shown her. Her fingers barely reached around it, and she wondered idly how an erect penis was ever able to go into a girl's vagina. Specifically, she wondered how it could ever fit into her own tiny virginal cunt. She knew from examination of herself that there had to be a disparity of size.
She knew she would not ask him that particular question; he might want to show her, and she was not ready, yet, to lose her virginity. In the state she had been, just a few moments, before, she might well have allowed it, the power of the passion that had held her in its grasp had been all-consuming. It would have been easy, she realized, now, for her to have accepted anything, at that point… even vaginal intercourse. The thought was frightening. Dear God! I might have done it! I might have let him put his thing in me… and… and… It was too much. She couldn't bring herself to complete the thought. God! She had been so close… and hadn't realized it, at the time!
"Christ!" he grated. "Don't try to choke it to death! Loosen up your hand… and let it move kind of loose like… all the way up and down… over the head, too!"
Trying to do it the way he instructed her, she felt it throbbing and jerking in her hand, and somehow, there was a thrill to it… some undefinable feeling of erotic stimulation. She suddenly, had the idea that there was power, force… an animal energy in the organ itself, as it responded to her now feathery touch. His cock expanded and throbbed against her hand, its heat seeming to increase with the friction as she moved on him.
Now, his hips were jerking up and back to meet her manual manipulation of his prick, fucking her hand-substitute with jackhammer fury. Finally, she realized that he was moving faster and faster. She tried to keep up, but could not. Finally, holding her hand almost immovable on him, she could only wait desperately for his explosive climax.
Charity had not noticed, earlier, that he had removed his handkerchief from his pocket, but now, she saw it in his hand; she knew, instinctively, what it was for, as he brought it down to hover just above her hand curled around his racing cock. He must be very near, she decided, feeling a definite stirring in her own being, with the realization that she was acting as an instrument for all of this magnificent power, a power held solely in her own tiny, trembling hand.
Suddenly, he groaned and gave a final thrust, and she could feel the hard rod of flesh in her hand expand and begin spasmodically jerking, pumping his white, hot and viscous cream through the tumescent tube of his cock. Several times she felt it, a tiny, shivering thrill going through her. At the instant of his shuddering climax, he had brought the handkerchief down to cover the head, catching the sperm in its enveloping shroud. She was slightly disappointed that she could not actually see it… see it and feel it as it spewed forth, but she understood his concern for their clothing and the interior of his car. Then, some of the warm, sticky fluid ran down onto her hand, and she could smell the pungent male odor of him in the confines of the car. She found it not at all unpleasant, now, and she was completely surprised at herself. What had come over her? Was it because she had helped to give him pleasure? She didn't know… and slowly, reluctantly, she released him.
She finished her preparations for bed, snapped out the light and crawled in between the sheets. Tossing and turning, restlessly for several minutes, she was finally claimed by sleep from sheer fatigue. Hers had been a full day.
Charity had been aware of the sexual activities in her parents' bedroom for several years. She had been about six years old, when curiosity had overcome her, and she had walked into their bedroom in the midst of a particularly passionate scene. Her father had punished her, severely, paddling her little, bare bottom and telling her she must never come into their bedroom, again, at night. She had been so thoroughly frightened and chastised that she had never considered the possibility of spying on them, again. True, she had heard them; it was difficult not to have heard, because the flimsy walls of the old house made that kind of privacy impossible.
When she had awakened that fateful evening, hearing voices in her parents' bedroom, she assumed that it was her father and mother who made them. They did often make love very late in the evening, or in the early hours of the morning; her mother's work schedule, of course, must have been the determining factor.
She was suddenly disturbed, however, when she became aware that tonight her mother was talking to someone, not her father! It was a strange man. She was sure of it. She would have known her father's voice, anywhere, anytime… and she could think of no valid reason why her mother should be having a strange man in her bedroom at this very late hour. Words were not clearly distinguishable to her, and, finally, her curiosity could no longer be held at bay. She had to see who it was!
Her heart pounding with both fear and apprehension, she slipped out of her bed and padded, softly, into the connecting bathroom. She stood near the door leading into her parents' bedroom, ears straining to hear the trend of the conversation and trying to identify, if she could, who the strange man might possibly be. There was not the slightest suspicion in her mind concerning why the man might be there.
Then, she heard him say distinctly, clearly, "Because… tonight… I'm going to do anything I want to!"
There was several minutes of relative silence on the other side of the closed door. Then, the sounds of rustling bedsheets, the slight squeak of bedsprings came to her, and afterwards there was the sound of low, mewling moans, followed by her mother's voice. It was unmistakable, now! The strange man in her mother's bedroom was having sexual intercourse with her mother. The realization of it shocked her. Her mind spun. She was dizzy and she grasped the wash basin to maintain her balance. Her mother's words were distinct. She had actually heard her mother say them: "Oh, that's so good! Fuck me… n-now! Oh, fuck me!"
Mom! Oh, dear God! My mother…! It's my mother… another man… and he's doing it to her! Oh, God… my own mom… committing adultery! That's what it is… when a woman does it with another m-man… a man who's not her own husband! Oh, Mom! Why? Why are you doing it? Why are you… ch-cheating on Daddy? Why, oh why?