She touched one of the large creamy gobs, worked her finger into it until the flesh was coated with him, and she brought the sample to her nose. There was a pungent, intriguing smell, very different from the juices she’d teased from her pussy So many times, but that was only to be expected. Men and women were not exactly the same, after all.
“It probably smells stale,” he said, lying down’ beside her.
Debbie shook her bead. “No, not really.”
“It should. I haven’t even jacked off in a day or two. Jesus, I must be so full of cum, it’s a wonder I don’t slosh when I walk.”
“It smells interesting,” she said.
“Taste it.” Debbie wrinkled her nose, gave him a quizzical look. “It won’t hurt you. If you’d sucked a little harder when my cock was in your mouth, you’d have gotten yourself a big juicy helping of it then. Go ahead. See if you like it.”
Impulsively, Debbie stuck her finger into her mouth, licking away the cum she’d been smelling. He was right! It didn’t taste bad at all. Strong flavored, as her nose had already detected, and rather salty. The oily bubble rolled across her tongue and she hesitated. only a moment before swallowing. It went down easily, and the tip of her tongue quivered excitedly. She’d heard girls at school talk about blowing guys, about getting mouthfuls of scum (as they called it), and now she understood what they had meant. But it didn’t taste scummy, not to Debbie Marshall.
She looked at him, saw his reassuring smile. Her hand slid down her belly, scooping up perhaps a spoonful of the sticky goo, and that too she brought to her mouth, eating it from her fingers with lips and tongue that grew more active with each slurp.
He cuddled her on the floor, and his dick was small and sticky-wet touching her thigh. It felt so tiny now, where it had been so hard and raging only a few minutes ago. Debbie’s hand shot to his crotch and she cupped his cock and balls, squeezing them with love and gratitude. “Thank you,” she said.
“Thank me? Christ, kid, I’m the one who owes! But look-wherever you came from-aren’t they going to, be worried about you not coming back?”
“I don’t, think so,” Debbie sighed. She nibbled at his neck, gently, affectionately.
“Hey,” and she felt the laugh where her cheek was rubbing on his breast, “I don’t even know your name, and I’ve already raped you twice.”
“My name is Debbie,” she simpered, “and you only raped me once. The second time
I-”
“Knock it off kid,” he said suddenly, pushing her away from him. He sat up, and his face was drawn and tense. “I think you’d better haul your cute little ass out of here. Like, now.”
“Why?”
He groaned in exasperation. “Because I’m hiding out and if there’s anything I don’t need-”
“You just fuck me, then kick me out? Is that it?” He nodded. Debbie sniffled, her nose twitched, and her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t want to cry-yes, I do! I want to cry and cry and cry! But I’m not gonna do it. I’ll get my clothes and I’ll go. Maybe I can find somebody who has a telephone or a CB radio or something-”
He caught her hand and jerked her round to face him. Debbie had just picked up her panties, but she dropped them. “Why do you need a telephone?” he demanded, breathing heavily. “Are you going to call the pigs?” – “My God!” Debbie whispered. “No! But I have to get in touch with my mom and daddy. They’re staying with my aunt and uncle in San Leandro… I need a ride back there-” Apparently he didn’t understand. He kept squeezing her wrist, as if he were trying to pinch the truth out of her. Debbie squirmed.
“I was up in the mountains on a camping trip, see?” she told him. “With my cousin Holly and her friend Lisa. And I knew they didn’t want me around-nobody ever does-but this morning I woke up and… ”
Chapter Seven
“Jesus,” he said, frowning. “That’s the sickest thing I ever heard of.” He laughed bitterly. “But who the fuck am I to be talking? Didn’t I do the same goddamned thing to you? Only, where they fizzled out, I made it. Christ, maybe I ought to go back to the prison farm and give myself up!”
Debbie shook her head. “No! It wasn’t the same thing at all! I felt like an animal when they were touching me and using me, and it was just awful to be so helpless? and when I ran into you I thought, Oh, God, it’s: happening again!”
She put her arm around him and let her head come to rest on his shoulder. “But where it counted, it was all different. You hurt me, a little-well, more than a little-when you put your cock in me. It felt like I was having a tooth pulled, without anesthetic. Isn’t that weird? I don’t have any teeth down there. In my pussy. But it felt like I did, and like you were yanking them out by the roots with a pair of rusty pliers.” She shivered delicately, remembering the pain.
“And you could tell you were hurting me. I could see it in your eyes when you looked at me. You were sorry. You wanted to stop, but you couldn’t, because your need was too great. And so was mine. Once you were inside me-really inside me-I knew that it could never hurt enough to spoil the joy and the pleasure and the sweetness. I was bleeding where you’d busted me, but that didn’t matter, because the insides of my pussy were full of hot juices. They were like salve on my hurt. And there you were, oh God, with that big beautiful cock of yours thrust up me, and I knew that I had to keep you there. I wanted you to keep thrusting, to spread me and make me even hotter and juicier inside. And if I was crying well, it was because for the first time in. my life I knew how it felt to be a person. A whole person. Does that sound silly?”
“No, it doesn’t sound silly.” "I'm glad. Oh, what is your name? You still haven’t told me!”
“Sam. Sam Ely.”
She tested the syllables, found them ineffably sweet on her lips. “Oh, God,” she murmured, “tomorrow I’ll have to be ugly again, but maybe now I can live with it a little easier.”
He cupped her chin, turned her face up. “Ugly?” he said. “Where do you get off with ugly?”
She grimaced. “Look at me, for God’s sake! I know you needed a woman, after all that time locked up in prison, and I know that any woman would have been okay.
Even a pig like me. That’s what Holly and Lisa called me. A pig. I guess they’re right… ”
“Don’t put yourself down!” Sam blurted. “There’s not a goddamned thing wrong with you, Debbie Marshall, and if you don’t know that, you need your ass spanked.”
She flushed. “Well, just look at me,” she said. "I'm not exactly Miss America-”
“Screw Miss America! We’re talking about you.”
“I’m too fat,” she argued, “and my breasts are too big, and-”
“You’re not fat. You weigh what, about a hundred and twenty? Well, on you it looks good.” He pinched off a little roll of flesh just above her hipbones.
“This,” he went on, “is baby fat. Bend over and touch your toes twenty times a night for the next month or so and you won’t even have it.” He slid his hand across the freckle4 curves of her ass. “Soft,” he said. “Soft and cushiony. You can’t imagine how sweet it is to squeeze your ass while I’m flicking you. What do you want to be slab-sided? I’m surprised you’re not black-and-blue from having your cute butt pinched every time you turn around. Just-” he pinched her naughtily-” like that!”