Claude heard the flushing of a toilet down the hall. He was surprised -- he remembered no one else. Francine entered the room and hesitated, her shock unconcealed. Surprise gave way to a smile; she could not imagine that he had been forced to watch the swapping orgy -- surely he had consented, even volunteered. Her cunt gave off the crisp smell of antiseptic douche. She felt dry, but the walls of her cunt contracted in a spasm.
There was something, she thought, almost feminine about the nearly hairless little boy. She stared at the drop of seminal fluid that had already pushed its way out of his small cock. Claude's hand moved from his penis to his side as he looked at her eyes, which were staring directly at his groin. He was frightened, but somewhere inside him the fantasy of her letting him touch her was already full blown, waiting only for the details reality could provide.
The child's sex did not deter Francine. She had always liked children of either sex, and the boys -- the younger the better -- had always been far easier to seduce and less likely to inform. She sank to her knees. She brought her hands toward her chest and lifted her breasts, displaying them.
"Do you like me, Claude?" The voice was coy and seductive at the same time. Claude felt as if his heart and his throat had suddenly come closer together, and that his throat was being choked by his heart.
"You can touch me," she said, placing the base of her palm on his knee, the fingers just barely touching his upper leg. She lifted her right hand and her fingers folded over his wrist as she made him touch her breast. She ran his hand over her in one wide stroke, but she brought him back to the nipple. His fingers found the magnet, and he was too fascinated to move from the tit as he felt it grow harder and sharper.
"Squeeze me, Claude." He was aware he was being talked to, but he was grateful that no answer other than physical reaction was called for; he doubted he could talk. He was too excited. His hand clutched at the breast. The muscle seemed to bloat inside his hand. He prodded the aureole, fascinated with its texture.
She was smiling. Her hand stroked the inside of his thigh, and he almost jumped as the fingers slid up toward his crotch. She spread the thick globs of premature cream over his dome, running the side of her finger along the glans. The child's noises were more or less than human; his sighs were like the muted cries of some tropical bird. Her hand folded around the staff, and only the head still stuck out from the fist. She bent the penis forward, down from its natural angle, and she shoved her head between his legs.
He might have been less frightened if it were a fire about to devour his prick. As it was, he felt the first sliding stroke of the woman's tongue all the way up his spine. An echo of the sensation made his head snap on the base of his neck. His hand clutched the breast more tightly than before. She was swallowing him; he felt as though his body were hanging in space, and that he was kept from dropping only by the attachment of her mouth to his penis.
She bent her tongue back and smoothed the flattened underside, and the head brushed the roof of her mouth. Her forefinger and thumb circled around the scrotum and met, tightening the bag at the place where it was connected to his crotch. The testes wobbled on the bottom, rolling against the skin. Her index finger moved back and scratched lightly at the wrinkled covering just before it disappeared between Claude's legs.
He felt the edges of her upper teeth run down the erection, and he feared for a moment that she would start biting him in earnest. She had the prick halfway in her mouth when she rolled her teeth back and forth against it, and he knew that he was safe. He bent down and tried to follow her breast as she moved her body from side to side, sucking his little boy's cock.
He tried to reach her cunt, but it was hidden behind her. Her lips drew back as she blew him, exposing her teeth in a smile that his cock obscured and that he could not see. She knew what he was grasping for. On her knees, she thrust her legs in front of her, then curled her body into a curve so that her groin was almost next to his hips. It faced him, almost, the triangle's base separating her cream-white belly from the sex it almost hid. His fingers were so timid as they probed for the opening that she could hardly feel them, and she pushed her stomach up so that they would hit her harder. "Lower," she whispered, and he knew from the slight moisture and the lips, slightly pulled back, when he had reached her hole. He forced his fingers inside, and the walls closed down on them. They exerted a hold, a suction that made him doubt whether he could pluck them out again. The movement of her pelvis against his hand made him a passive rider. She jerked wildly, and his fingers almost slipped out before her forward thrust consumed them again.
He began to understand how he must manipulate her. When his fingers moved back too far and he lost hold of the lining, she led the grease-covered tips to her clitoris and pushed them down on the pink-purple nub. "There," she groaned, excited now. "There..." He was more imaginative than she would have expected. It was as if the fingers themselves were curious to touch every fraction of an inch of fold, to press on the clitoris from every angle. The energy within the small pearl surprised him, and he pushed it hard, as if he were trying to crush it against the cartilage below. He was aware of every hair as it grazed his fingertips. Excited beyond any impulse toward method, Claude left her clit and stroked the labia again, then dropping below to stick them inside her cunt, which grew more moist with each entry.
"I want you," she said to him with the same desire she would have offered a man -- or woman. She lay back and pushed him away from her so that he could aim his phallus at her slot. He smashed the prick impatiently against her lips, missing the hole. She arched her spine and waited for the next thrust. This time she caught him in the clammy muscle. She lifted her legs from the floor at his sides and wrapped them around his legs, fastening him inside of her. "Lot me move," she whispered softly, afraid that his impatience would combine with his inexperience to make him pull out and then have to reinsert.
The friction did not build from a beginning. Once he was inside her, the first smooth fall down the chute was like the hundredth stroke of a coupling. She pressed her heels into the floor, holding herself back by bracing her body so that she would not move too fast, too wildly.
But he was almost finished. His body was a blurred thumping pressure on her chest and stomach. Her wrist bore down on his backbone as he sent his prick inside her, until his few strands of pubic hair were absorbed in her thick nest. She felt the small cock grow larger in spurts, growing and then shrinking back to normal size. She felt every, tiny change in its size as he prepared to shoot inside of her.
The heat of his cum surging out triggered her orgasm. Her walls opened and contracted, and her body rolled under Claude's. She felt his hipbones bash painfully into her own as the last few animal strokes drained him of cum, and her own juices moved out from the inner tissue as if to compensate for the thirst he would now feel.
His body did not crumple against her own as she expected. Her skin was covered with sweat, but his was dry as he continued to move inside her, after her own orgasm was through. He was pushing, his little cock still hard. His lips were tight, as if he were straining himself. For a moment his penis moved slowly up the canal of cum-soaked flesh, but then moved without pausing into the next highest gear, then the next, and finally his body was like a single snapping muscle, tempting her body to suck it in and bury it inside her belly.
The intensity of the first orgasm had exhausted her and her walls were almost numb at first. But with each new stroke she felt herself prodded toward another climax. She was amazed at how instinctively he could lead her. The orgasm was his gift, his entirely. At last she began to move, slowly, delicately. Her body's answer to his fucking prick excited him, and his pelvis ground out a circle just as he drove as far inside her as he could. He drew back quickly and repeated the circling thrust. She twisted under him, letting her clitoris feel the tension of the cock.