The truth of it was that she missed Mark terribly. Last night they had made love again, against her better judgment. But she had failed to attain that sensual peak, that thing she thought was called an orgasm, as she had the first time out there under the elm tree a few days previously. It had left her slightly on edge, her body still tingling for more after Mark had spent himself. She had enjoyed it, up to the point where he had stopped, so instead of that soul-wracking orgasm she had enjoyed her first time, she had lain there. More, her mind moaned, more, while she had lain there with him for over an hour, before he had taken her home.
Choir practice had been long and exhausting and, guiltily, she had found her mind wandering to her absent lover and his body and that wondrous appendage between his legs that he pleasured her with. But in his absence, she found her guilt growing on her more and more. Her thoughts flip-flopped between lust and guilt, the latter making her cold and depressed while the former would eventually come to her rescue and warm her again.
Stripping off her clothes, she walked into the bathroom and took a shower, washing her full, melon-like breasts, watching the dainty nipples firm and distend with her attentions. The impulses that began to sizzle through her brain made her feel dirty again, so she began to soap herself between the legs, washing her now oozing, slimy, wicked vagina. It seemed the more she washed, the hotter and slimier it became, flushing with her natural lubricants in a very unchaste way. With a moan of self-disgust, she forced her small hands away from her body, stepped out of the shower, dried, and wrapped the towel around herself. She went to her bathroom, still feeling the heat of her self-arousal, wanting to stop herself from giving in to what she felt was coming over her.
Having climbed in through the window, Johnny and Billy Canning and Sam Quaid had just begun going through DesirЋe's drawers, looking for the proper place to deposit the incriminating materials, when they heard the girl's footsteps coming from the bathroom. She had come home unexpectedly and they had nearly panicked when they heard her come into the house, but out of fear of Clete's wrath they had stayed to finish their task. But, knowing almost nothing of women and not knowing where in these many, many drawers that held the many, many clothes of the rich man's daughter, they had taken too long in finding the spot where Clete would look for the cocaine.
Now they heard her soft footsteps coming from the bathroom and again their panicked, wild eyes cast urgently around the room. There was no time to get through the window quietly, and if they were seen leaving, they would never be able to get back in again. Damn it! Johnny thought. Why had he brought the other two with him? This had been a one-man job, and now the three of them were going to be caught.
With a brief flash of inspiration, his eyes lit on the louvered doors of one of the large closet, still standing open from their search. He gave the others a strong jerk to get them moving and they all crowded into the closet beneath the two dozen jackets that hung on the rail. Johnny quickly and quietly pulled the door shut, nearly all the way, fighting to still his excited breathing, crouched shoulder to shoulder with his dull-headed companions.
Through the crack in the door, he saw her come into the room, while the other two watched through the slats of the closet. He could only hope that she would soon dress and leave, giving them a chance to finish their mission and sneak away unnoticed. But he knew that if she wanted to dress in clothing hanging in the same closet with them, they would most certainly be discovered.
They were flabbergasted with what happened next. Astonished, titillated and aroused.
Without noticing on this warm night the opened window, DesirЋe dropped the towel and stopped briefly before the mirror, noting the big, full, uplifted tits that always seemed to get in the way, the firm, concave belly and, as she turned with a coquettish pirouette, her heart-shaped bottom with the plump, round buttocks, each surmounted by a delicate dimple at the base of her back, the straight, silky honey-colored hair that lay perfectly, feathering out over her plump labia from the moist, hot split of her vulva. Her legs were perfect, long like a model's, but slightly plumper around her thighs, making her wonder if she shouldn't do a bit of dieting.
To think that she had cradled Mark between those thighs and that he had entered her with his penis…
Oh, oh, oooooh! DesirЋe's hands moved to her body again.
Johnny, Billy, and Sam crouched inside the closet, breathing heavier with each passing moment, their youthful excitement rising as they watched.
"Son of a bitch!" Sam whispered, and Johnny nudged him to silence. But Johnny's tongue was fairly hanging out and he rubbed the front of his pants as he felt an erection growing. Though the three of them made good money peddling drugs in Pickford's Meadows, because of the high class status of the people living there, they seldom achieved sex with any of the women, which meant that for recreation they had to go into Tucksville and avail themselves of the prostitutes plying their trade in that more modest neighborhood.
DesirЋe was running her hands over her big tits now, pinching the rosy nubs while they hardened and swelled, the tender, stippled aureoles contracting and deepening in color. They saw her close her eyes, the lashes fluttering girlishly as her feminine feelings expanded in her belly. She let her hand crawl tentatively down her belly to the wet spot where the fire was growing, to that warm fold of her desire, which immediately began to dew with the nectar of her arousal.
The lovely, blonde girl's breath came unevenly. Mark, oh, Mark, where are you my love! she cried within. She knew what was going to happen now and she couldn't stop herself. Even before her love had taken her virginity under the elm tree last Sunday, DesirЋe had learned to relieve herself. It had an awful name, masturbation, but it had actually helped her calm her feelings with herself alone rather than giving herself to some unworthy man. And Mark was not here to help her, being away at his political convention with her parents. She was all alone here at the house, out in the middle of their peacefully, private thousands of acres. No one would know but her, no one would see.
Walking to the bed, she dropped back on the sheets, parted and raised her knees, and let her middle finger slither down through her wet feminine furrow to the aching, fire-filled nubbin of her clitoris. Her hand was educated enough to know exactly what to do. She found the precise spot of greatest stimulation and, throwing her conscience to the winds, began to bring herself to the culmination she had missed last night with Mark.
They could all see right up between DesirЋe's legs to the pink gash dripping girl-nectar into the crack of her ass where her little, vermilion asshole twitched innocently. Her bottom was rolling with a womanly grace as she stoked herself lasciviously, gasps of passion rising from her throat and she stroked around the scarlet swelling of her clitoris. Her breasts quivered with the shaking of her womb as her sensations grew and they knew that she would soon climax and gush her juices onto the bedcover.
Johnny was getting cramped in this position and he knew he would have to shift soon or his legs would fail him. And then he heard movement beside him and with disgust became aware that Sam had his cock out and was stroking it to relieve himself in the same way DesirЋe was doing. His reaction was to shift away from Sam, which unbalanced Billy, who tumbled to his right, dragging down a long fur coat, the hanger hook pulling down the rail with all the clothing supported by it. It made enough racket for anyone to hear, and then Johnny stumbled forward, knocking the doors open.