was getting hot, too. He reached under there and discovered her thickened pert nipples. The tips of Sharon Pettibone's titties were hot and red. They were stimulated and ready for more rubbing. She tried to roll over so that her father could give her a lick or two on the tits, but he wouldn't hear of it. He was having too much of a good time rubbing his prick between her ass cheeks. 'I like it like this, kid. So if you want to go rubbing a different way, you'll have to wait a while.' He smiled and continued to rock back and forth between her buns. He enjoyed the smooth sensation of her two ass cheeks sliding against the underside of his well-lubricated hog. 'Imagine,' he told her, 'how nice it's going to feel when I finally blast off inside your bunghole, baby. You're going to like that the best of all!' And he continued to slide between his daughter's two ass cheeks.
That was how Sharon imagined it would be if her father went jamming his prick into her rump. Of course, she couldn't concentrate on just her father stabbing her up the asshole, so she enjoyed, also, the image of an uncle, on her mother's side of the family, spearing her anus. It was Uncle Sid, a nice enough fellow who Sharon pictured as having the biggest joint yet. His long hard muscle was pre-lubed, so there was no foreplay necessary in this particular fantasy. She saw him instantly stroking her anus, rubbing her cheeks with his tool. It didn't take long at all, either, for Uncle Sid to get to the place where he actually pokes it into her butt-cave.
'Jesus,' she moaned at him with the first stabbing pain, 'you have to be careful with that thing. You could hurt me with that big magic wand.' She rolled her butt and lay down flat. She reached down and pulled her two ass cheeks apart with her hands. She showed him how much room he had to move in. She tried to loosen up in the ass so as to be able to accommodate the full and heady breadth of his giant stick. The piece of flesh went piercing down into her cavity, filling her up, giving her a stabbing that she didn't think she would ever forget. She could feel Sid's huge grinding penis rubbing into her bowels, and she knew that this was what she'd wanted from him. She didn't dare scream out her anguish even though it was killing her inside.
'I like fucking you kid,' said Sid. 'You got a nice little asshole here and I like putting my tool into it. You know what I mean? I like to give the inside of your rump a nice going over just to make sure that you get the kind of a rubbing that you like. You know what I'm talking about? Now for the other side!' And with that, he extracted his yet to be shot rod and pulled Sharon, his niece, over onto her back before she could say 'This is only a dream!'
Another moment later and he had stabbed his entire thick hog into her pussy-hole. The well took him on rather well. She allowed for the thickness of the stem at the base, and she spread her loins wide enough to accommodate all of the head on the first stroke. The massive organ went penetrating down deep, filling up Sharon like she'd never had it before. She bounced upwards to take on the thick shaft, and, enjoying the fabulous pole offered by her imagination, she began to juice on her fingers quite a lot of real juice. 'Oooh, fuck, shit, piss,' she grunted, 'I just love to have a really big cock-meat stuffed into my pussy. Nothing makes me feel quite so nice as a big stick of cock meat in my cunt. Well, maybe a little prick in my anus or a pecker in the mouth — but other than those two things, a cock in the twat is everything! Absolutely everything!'
She set aside the electric pecker and rested easy in the throes of post-orgasmic bliss.
Chapter Five
'But Mom,' protested Sharon Pettibone as she scratched at her thigh under the loose cotton sheet, 'I don't want to go to school. I just want to lay here and think about things. I want to…'
'You want to jack off your little clit,' interrupted Mrs. Pettibone. 'And I don't understand why you can't wait until after school, or hurry up and get yourself off in the morning before school. You're going to be a sexy ignoramus if you're not careful…' Mrs. Pettibone slammed the bedroom door and left her youngest daughter alone.
'I wonder how she knew,' said Sharon. 'But I don't honestly give a shit, either.' She rolled the sheets back. Between her smooth tanned loins was a moist heat. Her curly bush showed the soft damp and highly rubbable interior of her pussy lips. They were peeled back so that the insides could be seen easily. She'd been jacking off her clitoris for some time before her mother came in and found her like that. 'I wish she would mind her own business,' whispered Sharon to herself as she started in again. 'I just have to get off before school, that's all. What's she care, anyhow?'
She had both hands down around her honey pot. She stroked inwards with a long honey finger. The digit found the right location and started sliding back and forth, rubbing up the clit just the way she wanted it. 'Mmm,' she hummed, 'now that's what I call a good little rubbing.'
She got up out of bed but didn't take her finger out of her pussy. She climbed off the bed and went over to the floor length mirror. She spread her loins wide and continued to thrust a finger in and out of her juicy twat. 'So that's what it looks like, eh,' she mumbled. She rubbed and tugged on her clitoris. 'That little twat-penis is getting nice and stiff. That ought to be some fun when I get it all the way hot and all.' She rolled her finger up and down on the firming little pussy pecker. Then she started thinking back about something that would make her hotter still. Sharon Pettibone knew that more than half of all sex was psychological, and she also knew that if she could only think of something that might get the chills going for her, up and down her smooth spine, between her legs, across her chest, that then, with those psychological chills rolling up and down her body, she would not have to work so hard with her fingers on her clitoris in order to get to the orgasmic high she craved. She started thinking about something that she thought might turn her on.
Only at first she couldn't come up with the right fantasy. If it was the right man, then it wasn't the right place. And if it was the right place, well, then, it wasn't the right man. She kept probing her twat while trying to get the right combination of people and places. She wanted to make sure that she was imagining just the right thing to make her twat juicy and hot for sex. Because she wanted to masturbate herself into a perfect orgasm. And she wanted to do all of this while standing in front of the mirror.
But she gave up on the standing part. She sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed with relief. 'I can still watch myself from here,' she noted softly. 'All I have to do is spread my legs a little more and keep my finger going.' And that's what little Sharon Pettibone did. She spread her legs and wiggled her digit up and down next to her clitoris.
Sharon especially liked the feel of her clitoris getting erect. She could feel it happen. That hot little muscle of stringy flesh got all hard and aroused. It stood right up and begged for a rubbing. And that's what Sharon gave it. She rolled her fingers across that little thing like it was just the most obvious thing in the world to be doing, and like she'd done it a thousand and one times before. She squeezed it, pinched it off, flicked it up and down, right and left, and worked that little penis of hers until it was so hot and so stiff that it couldn't be moved without causing long rows of chills to go shooting up her spine and across her smooth tanned young belly. 'Ahhh, yes,' she moaned with every stroke, 'I like that a lot.' She let her mind try and conjure up something that might make her even hotter.
First she pictured a big hot dick. It was stiff and long and thick. The head of the hot penis was wide and much larger, Sharon felt, than the entrance to her twat. But she wanted it anyhow. She wanted something that thick and that big and fleshy, boney, to come storming into her body. She wanted to stuff herself with that thing and make her clit get a good rubbing from it. Of course, she couldn't just take a fictitious cock and rub herself with that. The big boner had to be attached to a man, to a big man, to a man that Sharon would find appealing in every way. That way the boner would get her hotter faster. And that, after all, was the object of her mental masturbation game.
She saw the man as blond. He had, like herself, a good tan and good body tone. He was, as they say, an all- American. His chest was lean and muscular. His stomach was lean and flat. His biceps were big and strong. His shoulders were broad, his hair long and neat, his legs thick and his thighs as strong as any tennis player Sharon could imagine. She was happy with her fantasy man, especially happy with the way she pictured his cock and balls. She was so careful in her thinking that she could picture his testicles even, and even the hairs on that crotch sack were important to her.
Sharon saw herself rubbing her fingers across the scrotum of her fantasy man. She took his balls in her two hands, in her ten fingers, and rubbed them gently back and forth. She handled the two fleshy golf balls like eggs, carefully, delicately, tenderly, but she also stimulated them so that the man's loins were covered with chills. She rubbed her fingers, her palms, up and down between the man's legs, and she made sure also to go for a little slide
