'No she won't.' Stella coaxed him on, not knowing what 'castrate' meant anyway.
Without much enthusiasm, Tom began running his hand over Stella's breasts and stomach, sipping beer from the bottle in his other hand. He toyed with the hair between her legs, but observed all the restraint he was taught about playing with little girls, still aware of Margaret's presence and loud mouth.
Stella knelt next to him, so he could run his hand down her back while she examined and played with the limp finger of flesh between his legs. She watched it harden, wondering all the time why the girls were so fascinated by this curious-looking 'male thing'. It was sticky from a combination of juices from Ann's cunt and his own semen, but Stella continued to fondle it, noticing that Tom was putting more enthusiasm into the massage he was giving her. She bent closer to kiss it, the way she saw the other girls do it, but jerked short when the odor stung in her nostrils.
'Go ahead and kiss it,' Tom whispered.
Hesitating at first, she finally took a deep breath and pressed her lips on the sticky, purplish head that reminded her of a heart. She licked the sticky stuff from her lips, decided it didn't taste too bad, then went back to try again.
The sight of her virgin lips pressing against the tip of his cock sent Tom into a wild, urgent need for her mouth. He gently placed his hand on the back of her head, pressing it onto his cock. Her lips parted, stretching over the head, then letting it penetrate into her small mouth. The sight of his shaft sinking into Stella's virgin, unsuspecting mouth quickly drove Tom to the peak of excitement, but he wasn't sure how she'd react to the surprise of his cock firing in her throat. A short squirt escaped without warning – not that he would have been able to stop it – which Stella accepted without any fuss. Just a questioning look came into her expression. He couldn't take his eyes off her sweet, innocent face, with its changing expression as the experiment continued. Then he spent his load, his cock jerking and spitting behind those delicate lips.
Stella reacted with a calm acceptance, letting him fill her mouth to overflowing, swallowing some accidentally, but spitting most of it into her wine glass. She wiped her lips and chin on her bare arm, then smiled at him.
'Would you do that to me?' she asked, pointing to Cynthia, who was still astride Jay's face.
'Sure,' Tom answered. 'Turn around.'
Tom was sitting with his back against the wall, so Stella had to bend and back up to him. She watched over her shoulder, backing up, with her two hands reaching down to spread the cheeks of her ass. Tom kissed her asshole, licked it and sucked at it. Strange feelings ran through Stella; her heart began pounding and she felt as if she were getting dizzy. Suddenly Tom's hand was between her legs, with his palm pressing into her moist snatch, when his tongue began snaking up the tight little tunnel in back. It was all so different from anything she had ever experienced that she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. Then she had an orgasm, which scared her at first, but was thrilling when it was over. She squeezed Tom's tongue out of her rectum and stood up.
'That was great!' she announced happily.
Tom just laughed; she had suddenly discovered sex, he thought, and wanted them to know she approved of it.
Cynthia had her orgasm. As she got up her ass spread before Tom's eyes and he could see the imprint of Jay's teeth around her asshole.
'Let's get out of here,' Jay grunted.
They woke Margaret, dressed and went out into the cold night air.
'We'll never get a bus at this hour,' Jay moaned, just as a taxi came down the street.
'My limousine is at your disposal,' Tom said as he hailed the cab.
CHAPTER FIVE
As far back as he could remember, Tom Dunn always hated Sundays. Even now, at twenty-four, his mother woke him every week for church. He hadn't gone to church in years. He told her he wasn't going to church any more. Still, she called three or four times every Sunday, the last time just before she left. Just another aggravation; especially when he didn't get to bed until three in the morning.
Tom lived alone with his mother in a six-room apartment. His father had died when he was fourteen, giving both of them a heavy responsibility. Mrs. Dunn had to go to work to supplement their income, and Tom was expected to supply the missing companionship, which hadn't been too difficult until he reached eighteen. Then his interests turned to girls, parties and bars. In the last three years his mother was lucky if she saw him three nights a week for dinner. And, since they didn't have any relatives living nearby, she resented his leaving her alone every night, to spend all his time at the corner bar.
Another reason Tom hated Sundays was the fact that the bars didn't open until one p.m. That meant sitting around the apartment listening to his mother nag him about his 'bad habits'.
At precisely one o'clock he was sitting on a bar stool waiting for the first bottle of beer to be delivered. By one-thirty Jay Schmidtline was next to him, followed shortly thereafter by Charles. They moved to a booth by the window to get away from the mounting noise and inquisitive ears around them.
Tom was gazing out the window when he spotted Ed Cramer crossing the street with a tall, attractive blonde.
'Who's the fuckin' broad with Ed?' he asked, not believing his eyes.
The others looked and finally Charles answered, 'That's his kid sister, Laura.'
'Why hasn't he invited her to our little get-togethers?' Tom said to no one in particular, still staring at the disappearing couple.
'Are you kiddin'?' Charles replied. 'He's so protective of her it's disgusting.'
'Yeh,' Jay nodded.
'She did a lot of growing up since I last saw her.' Tom's attention was back in the bar now. 'How old is she?'
'Twenty,' Charles continued to supply the answers. 'She's been away to college and spent the summer in Europe.'
'Let's get big brother Ed to invite her to church next Saturday night.'
'No chance, Tom. Ed wouldn't let his little sister see – let alone participate – in our little games.'
'Yeh,' Jay said sarcastically. 'But he sure as hell likes to fuck my sisters.'
'Then we'll go about it in another way,' Tom said. 'Have one of your sisters invite her, Jay.'
'Yeh. Cynthia went to high school with her. She'll do it for us,' Jay said, pleased with himself.
'I don't think it will work,' Charles said. 'According to Ed, she's going to be a virgin until she gets married… and maybe even after, too.'
They all laughed and started talking about the fun they had the night before. Each spoke as though the others hadn't been present. After relating the humorous events each had seen, they went into a discussion about which girl was the best fuck and which wasn't. Charles had ended his reign as a virgin and spoke with the most authority now. His two conquests had proven to him that sisters didn't count; it was altogether different fucking girls outside the family.
When the conversation finally wound down to less interesting details, Tom happened to mention the red glow he had seen.
'I saw that light,' Jay said. 'Weren't you doing it?'
Tom just shook his head. They could see he was serious by his worried expression.
'Are you talking about that vague reflection on the wall behind the spectators?' Charles asked.
Tom nodded.
'I thought you were doing it too,' Charles said.
'Why the hell would I do something on the wall behind everyone, where nobody is likely to see it?'
'Then it must have been a reflection from a car,' Charles hastened to explain away the unimportant event.
'There's a lot of traffic on that street,' Tom continued to press. 'How is it that only a few cars cause the phenomenon?'
Charles saw that Tom was upset by the reflection. He gave it a little thought, then became concerned
