But Sharon's screams and pleas were all useless. The mysterious fantasy stranger, the man she was dreaming about, kept his promise. He worked her ass cheeks with his hands, and with no lubrication he stuffed his cock muscle up inside her tight little virgin asshole tube. He gave the inside of her bowels a tight going over, a rubbing with the head of his spear that she could not honestly say was totally pleasurable. He rubbed and tugged and finally, when he pulled his meat out of her rear socket, there was, as he said there would be, blood on her sphincter. "Oooh, Christ… oh, fuck, shit, piss, cunt, asshole, piss, urine, crap, fuck, fuuuuuucecccckkkkk!" screeched Sharon. "You can't…"
A moment later she was back from her fantasy fuck up the asshole. But she was still on her be with her finger crammed up her bunghole. "Jesus," she moaned, "even that didn't finish me off. I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do to get a little sexual satisfaction around here…"
She sat up on the edge of her bed and looked at herself in the mirror. Her smooth blonde thighs were covered with chills. Her long blonde hair was matted to her face. She was sweating. Her face was flushed, and her chest blushed a heated red glow. She was as hot as she could possibly be. Her face, her eyes, her whole entire body revealed the fact that she was on the verge of orgasm, close to climax. "Fuck me, Lord," she moaned to herself. "I just want to cum. So fuck me."
The door to the bedroom opened. "It's time for school, little sister," said Debby. "Or are you still pretending to have SWINE FLU?" Debby looked closely at Sharon. "Although you do look a little flushed." But then Debby saw the spot, the grey spot of juice, behind Sharon. "Oh, yes, but flushing can come from a number of things, can't it, darling little sister?" Debby shut the door on Sharon.
The younger Pettibone daughter lay back against her bed. She had to be careful not to lay on the puddle of her own juices. "What a lot of ooze for nothin'," she complained to herself. "I was there, almost there, or something," she mumbled on. "I wish I could just get a big real cock in there and have it over with. That would be the thing to do. I wonder who at that lousy school would do me up right? Besides, who says it has to be at school? I could just go to the shopping mall or downtown and find myself a nice piece of real cock meat and no one would ever know the difference. Maybe I'll…"
Sharon's mind drifted. She saw herself walking in the downtown shopping center. She was looking for something. She was looking for a man. She'd know him when she saw him. Here and there, in front of various picture windows, she stopped and inspected the latest fashions. She was secretly waiting for some man, any man, to come up to her and grab her around the waist and send his meaty chopper up her asshole, or into her pie, or down her throat – anything, just so long as it was hot and thick and meaty. She wanted it badly. She believed that it could make her happy, make her forget all the trouble it was to be young and lonely…
Sure enough, along he came. His name was Carl. He took her by the hand and led her out of the shopping center. He was a big man, irresistible as far as the teenager was concerned, and he knew how to treat her right. He took her home with him, home to his bachelor apartment where the music was soft and the bed mellow.
He spread her out and took off her skirt and her panties, her bra and her blouse. He let his hands inspect her smooth skin, her precious young body. His fingers tested out the feel of her creamy breasts, the humidity of her inner twat lips. He rubbed his one digit across her clitoris and watched her beg for more.
"Carl," she pleaded, "won't you please use two fingers and go harder. Won't you please?"
He could hardly refuse such a delicate request. He applied two fingers to the inside of her hot wet twat. He filled her pussy with his fingers, rubbed up and down across her clit meat and made sure that her body was about as hot as it could be. Then he climbed down between her long smooth loins and separated her thighs. He filled up the breach he'd made with his cock. He gave her everything he had to give her and then some. It only took him a minute to get all of his steely rod into place between her vaginal lips. He socked it to her, hammered away, jacked her up good. Her clit went banging and rocking against his flesh pole. She got so turned on that she couldn't possibly refuse the opportunity to reach around behind him and take hold of his buttocks. She did that, she squeezed, she rubbed a finger up and down the groove of that big rump of his. And then she pushed her big soft titties up against his chest and rubbed. She slid nice tender nipple tissue up and down next to his hairy chest. It was a good thrill for both of them, a nice heating for two horny people. "Mmmm," they both hummed at the same time, "I love it. I love to fuck and screw."
When Sharon came to her senses, it was well after the time to leave for school. She decided that she was having too good a time fucking herself with her fingers, making herself hot with her fantasies. She decided to spend the rest of the day at home fingering her clitoris and rubbing her anus and stimulating her sexy nipples until she came. She wouldn't go to school, she decided, until her body turned hot and lusty, until juice oozed from her twat, until orgasm took over where frustration had begun. She was that hot, and home was where she intended to stay until it was all over. "Mmmmm," she hummed, "I love it. I love fucking myself." And with that she went happily to work on her twat hole and clit meat.
CHAPTER THREE – Friendly Persuasion
"I'll tell you what it is with me," said Sharon Pettibone.
"O.k., Sharon," said Angela, "you tell me all about it."
"Don't be so sarcastic," said Sharon. "It's not nice. I have something sexy to tell you. You listen and you just might learn something."
"That ought to be good," said Angela. "Me, a black girl, learning something from you, a white bitch. I mean really. And about sex, to boot. Really, Sharon. You Pettibones are just too fucking much."
The black girl rolled up her sleeves and gave Sharon a wink. It was all in jest of course. The two girls had come together because whenever one or the other of them discovered something new in the way of sexy behavior that could help make one or the other of them physically satisfied, they shared the new find. They were life long friends. Like Sharon, Angela had a pretty body. She was black like an islander more than like a charcoal black woman. She was more brown than black. She had pretty and large eyes. Her breasts were full, and the nipples were always tender. Her slit was as juicy as they come, and her smooth comely legs were as supple as baby flesh. Angela was one of the prettiest women that Sharon knew, and the fact that both girls were only fifteen made their conversations all that much more interesting.
"Anyhow," continued Sharon, "I found out something from my sister, from Debby. Look at this." She pulled a big plastic cock machine out of her purse. "You like the looks of that?"
"What is, it?" asked Angela. "Some sort of egg-beater?"
"Just about," said Sharon. "You try beating your clit with it and you'll find out."
"That's a dildo," said Angela. "Well I'll be fucking damned. I sure am glad to see that you are learning a thing or two, Sharon Pettibone. I was beginning to wonder about you."
"What do you mean, Angela? You knew all along about this thing and you never told me about it?"
"Not exactly, but more or less." Angela blushed. "I was just a little afraid to tell you about it."
"Well, well, well," said Sharon, "and we been friends like this for so long, eh? For that, Angela you get to work it out on me. How's that? Since you knew about it and you didn't tell me about it you can use it on my pussy. That sound fair?"