A few minutes later, still not satisfied, Sharon Pettibone climbed into the shower. She turned the steam on full and enjoyed a good hot rain on her body. She scrubbed at the scuff marks on her belly, places where dirt from the floor had pressed up against her chest and stomach and legs. She used a big thick bar of soap to go scrubbing between her thighs. She soaped herself until her entire skin was smooth and slippery, oily with the sudsy stuff. Then she slipped a finger into her pussy and another into her asshole and she gyrated. She rolled her hips up and down, she pushed her mound around in a steady circle motion, and finally she began to scream and cry out so loud that neighboring housewives could hear the precious moans of the child lover, and they wondered to themselves if the young girl was being attacked or something. They didn't know what to do.
But Sharon just continued rolling around on her two fingers, pressing her clitoris and wondering when the final cuming would be. She wondered when she would become orgasmic and when she could stop fingering herself. She ended up sitting down in the tub with her two long legs spread and raised so that her heels were up on the sides of the tub. She had her loins open, her clitoris throbbing, her pussy leaking and ready for action. She had her titties erect and ready for all sorts of fantasies. She had her twat so wide open that an elephant trunk could have gone snorting up her snatch without even knowing it. She let her eyes open wide and she jammed a hot finger all the way into the back of her beaver cave. She filled her body with digit and rubbed herself harder and harder. "Ooooh, fuck," she grunted. "Oh, Jesus, fuck, shit… piss, cunt, ass-hole…" She was on her way to ecstasy. She knew that orgasm was only a stroke or two away, that a stab or two more would put her pussy up into the land of bliss and heaven, that her sexual fantasy of total oneness with the sensual world would be finally fulfilled.
"Ahhh, fuck, yes," she moaned, sliding down flat in the shower-tub. The water continued to rain on her as she finished fingering her clit into erection. She pulled her hand out and took some shampoo from a tube. It was green ooze which she applied to her belly and spread around. She made herself as slippery as possible with that stuff, and then she applied some more of it to her asshole. She used one finger in her anus and the other in her twat. She poked both holes simultaneously. She pretended two big hot cock meats were sliding against her body, one from the front, the other from the back. Then, boom! It hit her. She was on her way. She was going to cum. She was getting so hot that she couldn't stand it any more. She could feel the big hot and cold chills starting up inside her body, getting ready to take her away on a magic carpet ride taking her up to the land of Godly ecstasy. She was going to float with it, going to enjoy her slick flesh covered with goose bumps. She was going to cum and cum. And cum!
The next thing Sharon Pettibone knew she was recovering. She didn't know exactly what she was recovering from, but she had a carrot in her hand and she was turning off the shower nozzles. She tossed the orange vegetable into the trash can under the bathroom sink and grabbed a towel. She was only halfway dried when she heard the front door to the house open up. She rushed to the bedroom. Her sister came in and found her sitting in bed. Sharon looked up from her pillow and said: "How was school today, Debby?"
"Oh, just fine," said Debby, taking off her blouse and sitting down. "It sure was hot."
Sharon sneezed.
"God bless you, darling," said Debby. "Are you sick?"
"God bliss me," murmured Sharon. "And he did, too."
"What's that?" asked Debby.
"Oh, nothing," said Sharon. "I just have a touch of the swine flu. How was school?"
"Never mind," said Debby, disturbed for some reason. "I'm sure it wouldn't really interest you."
"Well," said Sharon Pettibone, "for once in your life you're right about something, Debby. Ha, ha, ha!"
CHAPTER TWO – Home Sweet Home
"Shit me around," moaned Sharon. "I ain't going no place until I get my twat good and hot, massaged the way it's supposed to be." She was preparing herself for the battle with her mother. Mrs. Pettibone, as if right on cue, pushed open the bedroom door. "Now, now, young lady," she scolded Sharon, "you get yer ass up and out of bed. No more of this SWINE FLU bullshit. I'm not going to listen to that kind of nonsense." Mrs. Pettibone was wearing a lace robe which showed off her big nipples. It was cut short so that her smooth ample thighs were clearly visible.
"You know, Mom," said Sharon, "if it weren't three days before Mother's Day I'd tell you to go to hell. And you know something else? I think we look alike." Sharon climbed out of bed and took a position – she in the raw naked nude – next to her mother. "Look," she continued, "my legs are full and shapely like yours, and I have big nipples like you, and my chest sticks out the same way. I think we could be twins."
"Yes, darling," said Mrs. Pettibone, "now just get that pretty little ass and those matronly legs and those pert nipples that are just like mine – get all of that adolescent flesh into a pair of panties, a bra and some other clothes so that you can go to school like a good little girl!" With that Mrs. Pettibone disappeared out of Sharon's bedroom.
"Shit," moaned the teenager, "and all I wanted to do was sit around fiddle with my clit a bit." She sat down quickly on the edge of the bed, spread her legs and reached into her honey pot.
"Maybe if I'm quick…" she murmured, and with that she was into fondling her clitoris into a good little stiffness. "Mmmm," she hummed a moment later, her titties standing up with chills, the nipples going red and hard. "This could be it?" She flicked her clit harder and faster. She rolled her fingers across the tip of the little flesh button. It wasn't going to take her long to get hot and lusty. She knew it would only be a minute before she spit off from reality and entered the dream land of ecstasy and fantasy. She lay back with her feet dangling over the edge of the bed, with her fingers splashing in her honey pot. "Mmmm," she hummed, "this is going to be very nice."
She found herself conjuring up the image of a man not unlike her father. He had her father's voice, his countenance, his way of walking and talking. She smiled at him and took off her panties.
"Come on, Daddy," she said, "it's time for you to screw your little daughter." She smiled at him and gave him a good look at the insides of her beaver. She reached down between her smooth and tender loins and spread her lips out. She showed him what hot moist flesh lay behind that curly bush of hers. "There," she said to her fantasy father, "Don't you just want to curl your tongue around that little clit button of mine and send me off to nowhere sex land? Eh, Daddy? Please?"