She pointed to her anus. 'I want it now. We'll see how it sounds if you keep your word.' She smiled and crawled into position. 'You got any grease?'
'Sure,' he said. He pulled out a tube of lubricant from beside the homemade bed; He opened it up and spilled some into his palm. He applied his open hand to the back of her ass. He spread the juice with the same steady concern with which she'd earlier rubbed down his back and legs. He worked the grease into her ass cheeks, into her ass groove, and, finally, into her tender little butt hole. 'Mmmm,' he hummed, fingering her anal cave, 'that's got to feel good.' 'I sure do have to agree with that,' said Janet. 'I sure as hell do have to agree with that.' She reached back one hand and pulled her cheek open and apart so that Kevin could get his finger further into the oily anus hole. 'There,' she said, 'now you can really pump it up good, eh?' She waited for him to bury his finger in her asshole tube flesh. Sure enough, he jammed forward and managed to get the entire crevice filled with hot digit. 'O.k.,' she said, 'now twist that finger. Really make me feel it.' Kevin did his best, and when he tired of using his finger, he pulled it out and started using his cock. He lifted his big fuck-stick up into place. He pushed forward and the mushroom head went packing up into the butt slot. It didn't take long for his big cock meat to disappear entirely into the hot stiff rubbery tube. 'There it is,' he moaned. 'You're tellin' me,' said young Janet. 'Mmmmm, there it is alright.' She reached back and took Kevin's hand. 'I need a little prestidigitation up here, too,' she told him. She applied his finger to her clit. She worked the hot finger up and down until it was wet on her clit. Then she rubbed it into her hole. The cave pressed closer, just like her anus on his cock, and she had the best of all possible worlds. 'Now, fuck me hard,' she instructed the boy. 'Fuck me really hard.' He was older than she was, but she knew better than he how best to gratify her eager holes, her tremendous desires. 'Really ram it, man,' she pleaded with him. She lay flat and gave him all the room he needed. His flesh banana went flinging with his pounding hips, grinding into her butt cave. A moment later Janet Tibbleton was orgasmic.
It was easy to tell. For one thing she was screaming bloody murder. For another, she puddled juice into Kevin's palm. The surfer found his hand so slippery wet with ease juice that he couldn't tell what part of Janet's pussy he was fondling. She was also quivering and turning red, blushing like a bull in heat. She murmured toward the end-if everything else didn't inform Kevin that she was climaxing-that she was 'so hot that she could burst into fuck flames!' Then she rolled her hips and climbed away from his unspent boner.
'Jesus,' he moaned, looking down at his naked cock muscle. 'I'm still fucking hard.'
'Tough shit,' said Janet. 'I'm had.'
'Like hell,' he said, and he reached out and grabbed her back toward him. She tried to squirm away, moaning, 'Rape, fucking rape, leave me alone, I'm done,' but all to no avail. He had her strapped with his arm around her waist and when she squirmed the right direction, he shot his stiff flesh nail up into her asshole and pounded there, stroking and pumping, until he shot off an extremely heavy load of hot jism. Then he let her go, and this time when she crawled off of his hog she ached in her tube and collapsed on her side with her titties going sliding on one another, her stomach sweating with passion, her legs like rubber. 'Jesus,' she said, 'you didn't have to be so violent about it. I would have done it anyway, you know.'
'Sure,' said Kevin. 'Sure. I know your type. You're all blood and guts until it gets down to the nitty gritty. Then it's 'Look Maw, No Hands', and you couldn't give a shit about any man alive. Sure, baby. You'd have done it for me because you like me, eh? Ha, ha, ha. That's rich. Get the fuck out of my van.' 'What?' she complained. 'What are you saying?'
'Which word didn't you understand?' he pressed her, throwing her bathing suit at her. 'Get-the-fuck-out-of- my-van. Get it?'
'You bastard,' she moaned. 'I should have known better than to pick up a surfer asshole.'
He smacked her hard across the face, 'Get out,' he said. 'I've had enough of your shit. Who needs you?' He watched her dress in a hurry. She quickly put on her top and she kept a steady eye on him. She'd never been hit before and she wasn't sure that he wouldn't do it again. She slipped into her bottom bikini the same way, always watching Kevin to make sure he didn't explode again. Then she backed out of the door he held open for her and she didn't look back as she ran up the boardwalk to her car. 'What an asshole he turned out to be,' she moaned to herself as she got into her car. 'Phew! I'm glad I didn't ask him over to the house or anything.'
VI: A BOWL OF CHERRIES
And so it was that after only three weeks of married life, young Janet Tibbleton had slept in just about every conceivable position with any one of a number of men (and women) other than her husband. And still she was far from satisfied. It seemed that the more she learned about the sex, the more cocks she wanted to experiment with, the more times she wanted her asshole and her cunt plugged, the more head she was willing to give. She'd gone from being an innocent virgin to being a needy, love-starved, nymphomaniac teenage bride. And she loved it!
One morning in the fourth week of her marriage she woke up with such an incredible urge to fuck that she thought she would die. She felt especially open to all sorts of ideas, too, and she found herself trying to climb onto a door handle. She couldn't get her pussy at the right height, however, so she went to the extremes of getting a footstool and trying to get the door handle rubbing against her cunt in that manner. This method, and the dildo, and a carrot, and several other items she found handy throughout the house all failed her. She gave up trying to masturbate her hot little clit and deep narrow tube, and decided instead to find yet another man with which to experiment.
She dressed casually with a short skirt, one that she had left over from high school (only a few months in her past) and with a low-cut blouse which buttoned only so high. It left her titties well-exposed, as she intended them to be, and indicated, without any effort on Janet's part, a good deal of cleavage. She brushed and combed her silky blonde hair and determined to make the sexual aquaintance of the first man who approached her. She didn't care what he looked like, how he was dressed, who he was or how old he was. She was going to ball the first man who asked her to, and to find him, she was going to take a walk on Santa Monica Boulevard.
She parked her car at a side street and casually climbed from the front seat onto the pavement. She hadn't even shut the door to the car when she heard the cat call and wolf whistle of what had to be one of the zestiest men on the boulevard. She turned around and a man in a gas station attendant uniform added to the previous chilling whistle: 'Hey, baby, you got what it takes.'
'So do you,' said Janet back to the gas station attendant. He stood dumbfounded next to the pumps where he was leaning. He smiled and then his smile gave way to a look of odd expectation when he realized that Janet had not only meant her quick retort to be serious, but that she was strutting on her way over to see him. She was eyeing him like no other woman ever had, and, the monkey wrench he held in one hand slipped from his fingers. 'Well, I'll be damned,' he said to himself as he fell hypnotically into a trance because he was watching Janet's smoothly weaving hips and her protuberant mound get closer and closer to him. 'I'll be fucking damned if she's not coming right over here.' To himself he added: 'And she looks like she means business.' 'Mr.,' she began when she was close enough, 'you just must be lucky today. Let me look at you.'
The gas station attendant had no idea what to say. He had dark curly hair, he was about six-foot, and he was strong and muscular looking. He had a splotch of grease across his forehead, but Janet didn't mind that a bit. She kind of thought it made him look cute, in fact, and she was ready to say so: 'You're not bad looking,' she said, putting her hand on her hip and grinding out her thigh in his direction. 'If you don't mind my saying so,' she added.
'No,' he said. 'Not at all. I don't mind any woman with legs like that saying she likes my looks.'
'I could have done worse,' she said with| a smirk. She quickly explained her plan; to him, about how she planned to fuck the first man who made a pass at her that morning. He couldn't believe it. 'Now wait a second,' he said with concern, 'you're just going to throw yourself on me, just like that, just because I whistled at you?” He shook his head and looked around. 'What this? Some sort of candid T.V. program or something? Some kind of comedy? What are you talking about lady? You some kind of narc?'
'No,' she said, moving up closer to him, inches away from his body. She looked around and leaned forward. 'Look in there,' she said. 'You see those titties? If you say the right thing, if you're nice to me, you can be squeezing both of them whenever you want, provided that whenever is right now, that is.'
He looked down her shirt. He couldn't | help but do it. She was right next to him with her titties nearly
