Tina sat down and asked, "How is your nephew hung?"
"I don't know," Conchi lied. She swallowed some of her drink to cover a small feeling of embarrassment.
"It doesn't matter, really," Tina said. "He'll most likely have the usual six inches and all I'll have to do is teach him how to use it."
"That is what Keith will like," Conchi said, "and best of all, he will have no more need to pester me for it."
"Don't you feel any desire to be screwed at all?" Bettina looked closely at Conchi.
"None-and I never have."
"That's odd," Tina said. "I'd swear all girls not only feel the need but want a cock for the terrific pleasure it can give."
"I wouldn't know about that," Conchi said. "At fifty I have no worries nor wants where sex is concerned."
"Well I'll be damned!" Tina said. She laughed. "You sure must live in that freak pit you mentioned."
"Maybe." Conchi sipped her Martini then said: "What one never has is never missed."
"How true!" Tina agreed. "But you don't know what you're missing!"
"Will you teach Keith?" Conchi asked.
"Will I?" Tina finished her drink. "You can bet on it, Conchi."
Conchi finished her Martini. "You don't know what a relief it will be not to hear Keith beg for it."
Bettina stood up. "You mean you have been worked up over that?"
"Yes." Conchi rose to her feet. "Very much so. So much, indeed, that I had the nerve to ask you for help."
Tina laughed. "Send him to me. I'll give him the complete course, bit by bit, and when I finish he'll know what sex is all about."
The two walked to the foyer where Conchi paused to say, "Is Friday night all right with you?"
"Fine," Tina said. "I'll be anxious to start getting your nephew on the road to sex."
Conchi kissed her friend. "God bless you, Tina, for helping me."
"Helping you?" Tina exclaimed as she returned Conchi's kiss. "I'm the one who will be helped. Imagine getting someone I can hand-raise on sexual intercourse!"
"He won't be looking for your hand, Tina," Conchi said wryly. "What he wants is between your legs."
"He'll get that too," Tina said. She opened the door to let Conchi out.
Conchi said, "I can never thank you enough, Tina."
"Don't thank me, Conchi. I intend to get more fun out of it than your nephew will."
"I doubt that," Conchi said.
As she opened the door to her own apartment she was certain that the door to 6-A was ajar. She went to sleep that night wondering about the widower who lived there. Kazarra was her landlord. She dreamt he had her tied upside down to a light fixture while he explored with his finger her virginal possession.
Chapter 5
Eno Yaw was one of the elevator operators in the Kazarra Apartments. He worked the four-to-twelve shift and knew all the tenants in the building. He was well liked because he was always courteous and obliging.
Yaw was a friendly old man of fifty who always looked half fed and all clean. His gray hair was clipped short and his brown eyes seemed to be twinkling all the time, as if he saw the world as a vaudeville show.
Eno lived alone in a basement apartment in the Kazarra building. He had always been a loner, even in the merchant marine where he had served for years. He still walked like a real sailor and jerked off like one. He considered his big tool to be his best friend and talked to it frequently, especially when he had it out to play with. He called it Yam.
There were two and only two women in Eno's imagined love life. One was Conchi Thorne. Eno talked to Yam about her-the way her legs and ass looked when she left the elevator to walk to her apartment.
"See that," he'd say to Yam, "see that! One day we'll get your head between them legs and up that cunt. Won't that be some diddle, Yam?"
And Yam would answer in the best way he knew how: he'd raise his head in quick anticipation.
Perhaps Eno sensed what few persons really knew-that Conchi Thorne was a virgin. Or close to it. That the sexy shape she carried so proudly had never been fondled, mounted, or subdued sexually could be a fact. Eno liked the thought of that and in his fantasies about her she was always pure until Yam went up her virgin hole.
There were many females in the building and Eno was polite to them all. But Conchi was his real turn-on; the sight of her legs and ass crossing the carpet between the elevator and the door to Apartment 6-B was enough to quicken Yam.
The other woman in his imaginary love life was not a woman at all. She was a teeny-bopper, a little girl just past puberty and ready to find out what kind of excitement a big cock like Yam could give her.
Eno Yaw was bright enough to know he had no chance at all to fuck Conchi Thorne. She was up there in the clouds where he couldn't go. Oh, he fucked her all right-in his dreams. And his erect tool did measure nine inches of solid blood-hard flesh that he handled gently and always slowly as his fantasy undressed Conchi so Yam could part the lush lips of her cunt to enter the hall of pleasure.
On the other hand, a teeny-bopper was a possibility. Eno realized the risks that went with the pleasure of child fucking, but he just couldn't control his desire. He wanted to screw a baby cunt and his dreams of doing so made Yam so stiff that Eno often cried out in the pain of wanting pubescent flesh to stick Yam into.
There were a lot of teeny-boppers around and on his time off he would cross the street to the park and sit there watching them. Especially the little girls who wore short-skirt dresses.
Eno felt that he could get a teeny-bopper easier by an offering of money; not a little nickels and dimes deal-my God, no! A good offer like, say, a hundred dollars! By God, that should get one for him. He had saved the money, now all he needed was the courage to approach one without getting himself into trouble.
He had decided that it was worth a hundred dollars just to see her cunt. But of course he had more on his mind than just eyeing a baby slit. What he wanted first of all was to eat it! Man, how the juices frosted his mouth at the thought. His guts turned over and Yam made his pants bulge as he pictured himself licking and sucking-and then fucking the pristine twat of a little girl.
Just the thoughts of getting a young girl in position made his cock rise and grow hard. And whenever he could he would take the slender Yam out and talk to it.
"Someday, Yam," he'd say, "me and you'll get to know a little one and then we'll spread her out and dive into her little hairless nest. I'll lick her twat and suck it while you get up ready to plunge into it!"
All the time he talked he would gently and slowly finger the slender shaft.
"Imagine that, Yam," he'd continue, "you fuck it real good after I lick it real good; and if the little one is real pleased why we'll fuck it and suck it again and again!"
As Yam grew with the mind pictures and the fingering of his flesh, Eno would breathe heavily and begin to snort like a horse.
"Oh, Yammy, Yammy!" he'd say. "Here you come like an oil well gushing out for its first strike! Shoot it, boy, shoot it out… oh boy how I could fuck her!"
And as Yam became reduced in size Eno would lay back and relax in the excitement of having fucked his teeny-bopper again-but good.
Naturally such dreams sought some kind of better fulfillment than just fantasy, so until the great day arrived Eno began to buy teen magazines. He'd select a likely prospect and cut her picture out. Of course it had to show more than a face; it had to have legs and a little ass and everything.
So when he now got the urge Eno would lay on the couch in his basement apartment and play with Yam. He'd get to breathing and snorting as he held the picture near Yam's head. And Yam, to show his own appreciation would shoot his come on the little girl.