Annie felt it, too. She was being scalded on the inside and she loved it. The hot, fervent feel of pecker juice filling her unfillable well was sheer ecstasy.
“Oh, give it to me, Mr. Hal. Pour me full. I love it. I looooove it all to pieces. Shoot it into me so I feel it all over.”
Annie writhed and squirmed and her elastic cunt milked Hal’s hard pumping cock, wringing him out until his balls were empty and drained and felt like they were hollow cores of cardboard.
Then, and only then, did Annie lay back and open her legs and let the older man get free of her clasping body.
Hal was shaken by the experience. He felt drained and, as he lay next to Annie watching her youthful body flex and twitch and turn, begging for more cock and more come, he knew he couldn’t keep up. And he hoped his wife would never find out.
Ann was oblivious to him, though. It had felt so fantastic. It had been so fantastic. Inside her cunt she was all squishy with Hal’s come juice and she felt like she could use some more. Her head was filled with the instant memories of what it felt like to have his dick pumping in and out of her plunging crotch, filling and emptying her snatch every second, it seemed like.
The wonderful friction of his cock squeezing between her excited cunt lips could never be matched by her fingers. Never again.
The little girl sighed and stretched and wondered if she could get Mr. Hal to stick his old thing in her cunt again. She felt that feeling coming on again.
She rolled over and looked at him and suggestively spread her legs so he could see her grinning cunt. But Mr. Hal only groaned and lay back on the floor. His cock was all soft and limp and she guessed that he wasn’t going to want to fuck again for a while. But she sure did.
Standing up, she shrugged her dress into place and felt a drop of his come drip down the inside of her thigh. She knew what it was, she felt like a woman, now!
CHAPTER 10
‘God, I love to do it, dear diary. I wish you were a real person to talk to.
Then I could tell, you how good it is to fuck and suck. I just hope nobody ever finds this diary.
I hope…’
For a girl of her tender years, Annie knew an awful lot about sex, most of it learned in just the past few days. She also knew that she needed and wanted it, that her life would no longer be complete without a hot cock plugging her tender little hole.
On the bicycle ride home, her pecker trap reminded her of that fact. Every time she stretched to reach the pedals her greasy cunt opened and slid excitingly along the bicycle seat. And she encouraged it. She discovered she could masturbate her slit successfully by rubbing it against the imitation black leather, threatening to jam it up her cunny.
But even that couldn’t keep her interested for long.
What Annie wanted was a live, warm, throbbing penis shoved up her aching snatch. Her thighs ached for it.
She imagined the bicycle seat turning into a long, black pecker and worming its way into her snatch. That really turned her on. Her plump vulva squirmed in anticipation. She felt herself getting wetter and wetter just thinking about black cock, about swallowing it in her mouth and maybe seeing if it tasted different. Her thighs throbbed. Her cunny ached and she squirmed some more on the bicycle seat.
She was glad to be home, finally. She was so hot she couldn’t stand it anymore.
She needed to do something, anything.
She put the bicycle in the garage-and then stopped. If she went into the house, the girl knew she was in for a long, dull period of squirming. Her daddy was going, to be all tired out after fucking her mommy all evening. He might not even look in on her until morning. And Annie was sure that was too, too late.
She needed to be fucked now!
Or…
Staring around the garage, the little girl spied the tire pump. It reminded her of her fantasy about the bicycle seat being a big, black cock. The hose wasn’t so awfully thick, but it was flexible and the cold looking brass fitting on the end did remind her of a penis head.
Trembling, Annie picked up the pump and walked into her daddy’s workroom. She sprawled out on his favorite canvas over a wire frame chair. And then she contemplated what she was about to do.
The hose felt almost alive in her hands. She spread her legs more until her skirt didn’t quite cover her crotch anymore.
Then, watching with avid fascination, Annie inserted the end of the hose between the soft, warm, hairless lips of her baby fresh vagina.
“Aaaahhhh!” she screamed, muting the sound. The brass fitting was cold. As it slid in it shocked Annie into crying out. But after that, it was easy. The black hose pushed further and further up her sucking cunt. It felt funny. Good, but funny. The rubber pressing between her cunt lips was almost alive. It seemed to twist and turn as it went in. And it went in an incredible distance-until Annie felt stuffed almost to her throat. She squeezed her legs together and began twisting and jabbing the hose in and out of her vagina with furious energy.
Each movement excited the girl more. But it just wasn’t enough. The artificial phallus wasn’t really satisfying to the girl.
Desperately, she grabbed the tire pump and began stroking the handle up and down, injecting air into her sex excited vagina. She felt herself swelling inside. She seemed lighter, dizzier. And then she stopped pumping and she watched her cunt lips flutter as the air phizzed out of her throbbing hole.
Slowly Annie pulled the hose out of her cunt. It was shiny with her sex juice.
Gingerly she held it up her face and smelled the odor. That was strong and pungent. And when she licked the hose her mouth was filled with the acrid taste of her own sex.
Annie wanted to cry. She needed to be fucked, now! And she knew she couldn’t live without it. She just had to have it! She had to!
Bob Preston had been sleeping fitfully. His sleep was the result of a guilty conscience at the very least. That and a hard prick. Whatever he did, he couldn’t seem to get it down-at least, not since his daughter had fondled it and stroked it into ejaculation with her mouth.
So the cry in his garage workroom that went unnoticed by his wife managed to reach his conscious mind and he struggled awake out of a half sleep. Pulling on his bathrobe and picking up a flashlight from the night table, he walked barefooted down the stairs and let himself quietly out of the house.
The leaves on the grass crackled loudly under foot in the darkened yard. There was a slight breeze carrying with it the salty odor of the ocean. For the first time, Bob Preston thought of the possibility that the noise was made by a prowler. The thought made him cautious and he tried to creep more quietly on his bare feet through the grass.
When he cracked open the door of his workroom, though, he forgot all such thoughts. Because sprawled out in his favorite chair was his twelve-year-old daughter, masturbating with the hose on his tire pump.
Bob Preston was struck speechless. His beautiful little daughter had her face contorted into expressions of lust that he’d never imagined possible. She sprawled lewdly in the chair and the black hose was rammed savagely in and out of her tender pink twat by her hand. Her toes curled and uncurled in unison to the stroking she was giving her cunt. Saliva leaked from the corners of her lips. Her glazed and unseeing eyes were flat brown and burned with an inner light.
Bob Preston let himself in the door and closed it behind him, staring in shock as he heard his daughter muttering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck meeeee,” in a desperate tone of voice, almost a whine, that he had never heard her utter before.
And then she was furiously pumping the tire pump handle and he could also hear the wail of escaping air from between her clenching cunt lips. When the girl took the wet hose and put it in her mouth, her father knew he had to do something. Anything.