The stalk felt as hard as the handle of a greenhouse trowel. But it was enormous! Almost six inches of it sprouted from her clutching hand. And the knob was so swollen and inflamed that it looked infected.
She had never dreamed that it would be this big and the colors so garish. Oh, she knew what an erect cock was supposed to look like, from pictures in her sex education book at school, and fuck photos that kids passed around. And girls talked about pricks like hard salamis.. But this was too much.
She thrust her face into Sonny's throat, as though hiding from his rampant organ. It did not match him. That throbbing stalk had nothing to do with his rather pretty face, his slim chest, his gangly limbs. Some kids called Sonny a sissy. In anger, Lily had often sneered that he was a momma's boy.
Still, she had known there was iron in him. On very hot days he worked in the greenhouse right alongside Daddy, after Lily herself had fled the heat indoors. Daddy called him 'Your boy friend,' in a way that signified strong approval.
Sonny asked, 'What's the matter?'
She whispered, 'I thought it would be littler. I mean, in your pants the bulge looks like a small fist. See, everybody can tell by looking how big a girl's titties are but your thing is-I didn't think-'
She burst into tears.
Sobbing against his shoulder, she released the burning cock and clung to his neck.
He said, 'Well, anyhow, Lily, we shouldn't be here in the living room. In daylight and all.'
She glanced through tears at the front windows, shadowed by the porch overhang but only lightly veiled by thin curtains. Anybody could see in.
She choked, 'I guess you're right. We better go to- 'Your bedroom?'
Her face flamed. She pushed up from the couch. Her legs felt wobbly. She tugged down her t-shirt to cover her breasts. To her bedroom? She had not really thought where kissing and feeling each other would lead, it all had been so sudden.
He had risen. He nudged her. They moved. Her head was whirling. He steered her to the hall, into her bedroom. There the drapes were drawn to keep out the hot sunshine. He shut the door behind them. In near- darkness she gazed feverishly about the room, seeing familiar objects distorted by her quavering vision. On one wall hung a framed photo cut out from a florists' magazine, an orchid, Phiebos Lilicus, named for her. Her father had hybridized the flower during his orchid days, before Ma bankrupted him. He had had six hundred feet of greenhouses, all gone to buy Ma's extravagant clothes, her new cars, her jewelry. Too late, Daddy had kicked her out and turned everything over to his creditors.
Beside the orchid was a yellowing photo of Daddy in a Sox uniform, at bat. That year a chipped elbow had knocked him out of the big leagues.
Daddy was unlucky.
Sonny asked, 'You want to get undressed?'
Her back was to him. She whispered, 'I'm scared.'
'So am I.' He was not talking clearly. Like his words had lodged in his throat. He said, 'If you don't want to, okay. But maybe it would be easier. I mean, if we got used to each other-naked.'
She did not know why she was so upset. She had always wanted this.
She said, forcing herself, 'All right.' She grabbed her t-shirt bottom and peeled off the garment, mussing her hair. She reached to the dresser for a comb without turning toward him. She raked out her, bangs and tossed the comb back at the dresser. It missed, clattered on the floor. She unfastened the waist of her skirt and dropped it.
Nude, blushing furiously, she felt his hand touch her arm, turning her. Facing him, she glimpsed his sun- tanned chest, then the white patch at his loins. From his dark ruff of pubic hair protruded the huge, livid curve of his cock. Between his thighs dangled a long, thin, pinkish sac, wide at the bottom, lopsided because one testicle hung higher than the other.
His genitals were so immense, out of proportion to his slim body!
He drew her to him. Her nipples touched his chest and his cockhead burned her belly. She was shaking with fear but she managed to raise a hand to his prick and squeeze it.
The head was surprisingly soft, velvety, a sort of thick sponginess. She indented it deeply before arriving at the boniness within.
She whispered, 'Do other boys have such big-pricks?'
Saying the word prick felt funny, like spitting it off her tongue, but once it was gone she felt relieved.
He said, 'I suppose it's normal size.' He seemed undisturbed by the word.
She suddenly realized that she had used it many times before him, had once shouted that he was a stubborn prick. But that had meant something different.
He whispered, 'Listen, could I feel your-pussy? I mean, all this is so new, I don't know, maybe I'll get used to it.'
'All right,' she said.
She watched him finger her pubic bush, like examining the texture of the hair. He stroked from the centerline crest on her mound out through thinning curls to the single wisps on the sides of the protruding plumpness. He pressed the cushion of flesh, testing its resiliency.
She whispered, 'That's just a pad, like. Not very sexy. Everything is down underneath, between my legs.'
He fingered her lip hair. Watching his lean, strong hand move in to cup her pussy, Lily thought, A boy's hand is really between my legs and I'm holding this enormous thing of his, and I can hardly breathe. Still, this is Sonny and I trust him, His fingers trembled on her plump cunt lips. Was he as nervous as she?
His finger slipped in between. It moved about, stirring the lips. She held her breath. He touched her clitoris. She gasped as the pressure fired a hot little spark into her belly. Then he explored her slit.
He whispered, 'You're open. Is that how it gets?'
She was equally surprised. At first each side of his finger had touched a lip. Now it was lost between them. And his fingertip slid easily, like her slit was oily.
He nudged tentatively at her hole. She gasped with surprise as a funny fluttering undulated down her vagina.
She laid the flat of her hand under his cock and rubbed it. She plucked at the tight skin. She slid her hand down to the soft, thin scrotum. It felt like stretchy rubber. She weighed his testicles.
Then her knees became rubbery. She leaned against him, an arm about his waist.. She fisted his cock and hung on.
His finger probed her cunt, and she kneaded his bony prick, both of them breathing hard. Her whole belly was quivering with excitement and her nipples burned against his chest and her mouth remained dry no matter how hard she licked her lips.
He whispered, 'Lily, do you want to-I mean, on the bed?'
She nodded against his shoulder.
He had not said fuck, but when Lily sat on the bed and felt the pile of little pillows behind her she amazed herself by instinctively spreading her legs wide, exposing her open cunt.
He hung over her. 'Lily, should I-do it?'
She could not meet his gaze. She looked down at her thighs, angled outward from her muff. She reached up, touched his arms, drew him in between her legs. He knelt. She grasped the shank of his cock to steer it. His scrotum hung softly against her hand.
She was breathing hard, her chest heaving, drawing her breasts up high, bracketing her view of their genitals, then thrusting away.
At last the soft sheathing of his knob touched her split. She rubbed the spongy bulk up and down her drooling gash. It moved more slickly on each stroke. Then she lodged it in the portals of her hole. It felt like an apple poked into a kitchen funnel, its progress stopped.
'Lily, what should I do?'
'I don't know. Wait. Hold still. It feels too big.'
'Is it in?'
His cock gave a twitch. And it was in, the head buried. She gasped. It was inside her, the bulk of his knob choking her opening. Her cunt came to life, hot waves rippling down to gather at the stretched mouth, suddenly
