Each time he came down against her tight-stretched little ass she felt that tickle of hair against clitoris. There was a growing feel of tension, of something building. She didn't know what but somewhere in the back of her mind was the growing expectation that soon now any minute something wonderful was going to happen.
As Mr. Hammel continued pouring his cock to her she felt her asshole slowly loosen and lubricate. Soon he was doing all sorts of delightful little feints, stopping halfway in, pulling out, changing direction unexpectedly. Then he was abruptly twisting himself with unexpected agility until his mouth was fastened over one of the just-swelling buds of her soon-to-be breasts.
Ted had never known their swollen tenderness could feel so delightful until his mouth fastened over one tiny nipple and began sucking, kissing, licking until her virginal areola framed a nipple swollen to rock-hard erection. He took his mouth away and she was almost in tears. Then he put his mouth down on her other tit and everything was wonderful again.
His hands were caressing her ass, slipping between their straining bodies to rub her belly, running smoothly up and down her ribs, enfolding her in a warm glow of eroticism. As Mr. Hammel accelerated his pumping she felt her tiny hard-muscled ass begin bobbing, rising each time to meet his thrust. He was still kissing her tiny tits and she could see the top of his head getting pinker and pinker, until she was sure it must be as flushed as her own soft inner thighs. Everything felt so warm, so soft, so wonderful, except for Mr. Hammel's cock and that was most wondrously hard, seemingly able to maintain its steadfast erection indefinitely.
She put out a tentative hand and touched the nape of Mr. Hammel's neck. It must have been the right thing to do for. Mr. Hammel was suddenly driving it into her deeper, harder, faster. He got his hand down there too and between plunges he was twinking her tiny virginal clit. "Aaaahhh!" he moaned.
Ted felt it happening. It was like she was coming apart, melting and flowing into strange new shapes under the force of Mr. Hammel's busy body working on hers. Waves of joy flooded her still unfucked cunt, making her feel wet and sloppy but happier and more fulfilled, more rested and relaxed than she had ever been before. It was as if she had just taken a sudden and impossibly hot bath and all the sweat, all the aches and pains of a week's hard practice at the ballet bar had been flushed from her aching body in one giant and instantaneous expulsion.
She felt great jets of warm softness flow abruptly up her ass and wondered if she or Mr. Hammel was responsible. Suddenly it seemed as if they were both swimming in a pool of the joyous juices of love. "Oooohhhh!" Mr. Hammel moaned.
Ted felt herself melt and flow until it felt as if she would dribble through the cracks in the cushions and end up on the floor. For a moment Mr. Hammel was immobile atop her. Then he gave a tremendous sigh and rolled slightly. His flaccid cock came out of her ass with an audible 'thuck' like a cork from a bottle of champagne. And Ted felt herself empty, drained, totally and completely used up. She wondered if she would ever find the strength to walk again.
"You're wonderful," Mr. Hammel gasped. "Best I've ever… " He didn't finish saying it.
"Is that all?" Ted asked sleepily. "Don't you want to do anything more?"
Mr. Hammel kissed her and said no, maybe tomorrow and took her into his own private toilet where, surprisingly, there was a shower and bidet. Ted was American but every ballet studio had a bidet somewhere so she scrubbed her ass professionally under Mr. Hammel's benevolent gaze. "Really wonderful," he repeated.
"Do I get the part?" Ted had asked.
"At least once a day for the duration of the run I promise you'll get that part," Mr. Hammel promised, and thus twelve-year-old and still virginal Ted went home without understanding exactly what Mr. Hammel's promise had meant.
She found out in the next few months though, and learned several refinements in the art of love which can become complicated enough if a girl intends to remain a virgin.
But all that was years ago. At thirty-nine Ted was no virgin. Nor, as of something like an hour now, was fourteen-year-old Albert. While she had been dreaming of the dear dead days with Mr. Hammel the boy had sneaked in a rest. He lay, half supporting his weight atop her, deliberately cooling out his cock, letting it soak in the comforting warmth of her cunt. She felt its solid bulk still stretching her to the painful precipice of prurient pleasure. She clenched her cunt muscles and gave him a friendly squeeze.
Abruptly Albert was through resting. He pulled out, out, out until she was sure she would lose her tenuous grip on the tip of his tool, then without warning WHAM! She felt his hard-muscled pelvis slam against her ass as he drove ft in up to the hilt, hitting her with a solid smack that threatened to drive it in up to her lungs.
And without warning Ted came. Came explosively, finally, melting, shrieking, flowing, deliquescing into a puddle of spent passion. "Ooohhh!" she moaned, and closed her eyes. The bunk tilted suddenly as if they had struck heavy weather and she felt herself slipping, sliding, corkscrewing way down into some deepening, blackening hole.
When she woke she didn't believe it.
It was bard to believe that anything could have happened that would make her cum so hard, with such a total burst of passion that she couldn't even remember passing out. But she knew she must have fainted because she was in a different position now. The boys had moved her around and gotten her in between them. Albert must have cum the same moment she did for he no longer had his cock inside her. She must have been out for some time, she guessed, for he had washed off. She felt herself and realized the boys must have done their best to clean her up too. Only now she lay on her side and little thirteen-year-old John's curly head was nuzzling her tits. He had his cock in her and was fucking away like a frantic rabbit.
I'll kill myself if I keep this up, she knew. She had to do something before these boys wore her out. Good God, she'd fainted twice now. How much more of this could she take? She wondered what was wrong with her. Whores took on fifty or more men in a night and were none the worse for wear. But… whores didn't get involved in their work. Ted knew what she had to do. She had to get a grip on herself and not cum every time one of these teenage studs got his wand into her magic box. It was her own fault she guessed, for holding out so long. Now her body was taking its revenge and making up for lost time.
She closed her eyes and tried not to think about the curly-headed thirteen-year-old who had his cock in full erection, his full erection filling her cunt, alternately stuffing and emptying her belly as he ram slammed his lust into her, whamming and bamming like some animated toy or a rabbit on speed.
He was trying to get it all together before he came. She guessed the best thing she could do to help was nothing at all. If she were to open her eyes or move or evince the slightest interest in what this boy was doing to her passive body she knew that tiny added element of excitement would be enough to set him off. And if he came now he would recover in a few minutes and want to fuck her again-and again, and again! Christ, she was tired!
Ted was sorry she had ever even considered the idea of letting these two untried studs prove their virility on her. Then, unbelieving, she felt her body begin to react to the stimulus of a hot young cock pounding away at her as hard, as fast, as deep as a hairless thirteen-year-old could pour it to her.
His curly head was still buried in her tits. Then abruptly he surfaced, breathed raggedly, and dived back down into her tits again. Only this time he fastened his mouth over her nipple and began sucking. Ted felt that old familiar feeling in her belly, felt herself starting to turn on under the relentless assault of this thirteen-year-old's mouth and prick. She wondered what the boy was feeling-if his first-time sensations had anything in common with what she had experienced that memorable day when she had been twelve and Mr. Hammel had been anywhere between fifty and a hundred.