heat up. She closed the refrigerator door and leaned her naked back against it. She took the hot dog and lifted one loin so that she could place the meaty pecker up inside her hole. She shoved hard. Up it went, all the way inside.
'Oh,' she squeaked. 'Oh, God!' She held it there, though, and made herself with it. She rubbed up and down until it heated to a tender ninety-eight point six. 'Mmmm,' she bummed then, 'that's a little more like it. I like it like that.'
She let herself slide down along the refrigerator door into a flesh puddle on the kitchen floor. There she spread her smooth loins and rubbed the hot dog in and out of her hole. She worked it tight up against her clit and made a mental note that it felt especially good that way. Then she went sliding the thick knockwurst wiener along the sides of her twat. It worked there, too, but it wasn't as effective as when she hit her clitoris with it. Finally, she stuffed the whole meaty thing into her twat and let go of it.
She quickly found that if she lay down spread-eagle on the kitchen floor, belly down, titties rolling on the linoleum, that even without her hands holding onto the big hot dog, it did quite a job of rubbing on her twat button. So what she did was lay flat out on the floor. She pretended she was in water and did a frog stroke on the linoleum. As a result the hot dog went sliding up and down inside her cave. There she was, a young beautiful blonde getting her jollies by rubbing her titties and her belly and her loins on the kitchen floor. It was almost as sexy for her as the thought of having a dog. She really would have enjoyed that as much.
After a moment or two of the frog stroke, Sharon sat up and breathlessly removed the scrap of knockwurst from her heated, juicing cunt hole. The thing came out a little gnarled, but for the most part it was in one piece. Sharon, of course, was about ten times hotter and hornier than when she began. 'I got to get that dildo into my cave,' she moaned, 'or I'm going to be in a lot of trouble.' What she meant by trouble was that she wouldn't be able to rest until she got over the orgasm hill. 'Jesus,' she grumbled on her way to her bedroom, 'I sure do hope that machine can do the job on me.'
She plugged the plastic and metal phallus into the bedroom wall outlet. She tried it out while she was standing. The tubular beater on the front end of the thing twirled righteously. 'Ah, yes,' she cooed when she saw how nice it was spinning, 'that thing there is going to do just right. I need it right now.' She spread her legs and pushed it up next to her pussy. Sure enough, just one feel of the twisting, twitching knob set her little clit to shaking and gyrating. She swung her hips up and down and slowly but surely worked the nozzle up high inside her cunt. 'Now,' she grunted, 'we're getting somewhere.'
Sharon was able to use the machine with one hand. She could manipulate it at the right angles and get it going at the right places in her pussy without having to use both hands at once. So, with her right free hand, she took to rubbing down her big hot titties. She took one breast at a time and gave herself a good going over.
She would begin with the nipple. One nipple would get a little teasing and a little rubbing. Then the other would get a slide from her palm. She would return to the first breast, there to squeeze and knead. Finally, when both boobs were full of heat and passion, when both large mammaries had turned to cherry red, Sharon took them both in one hand — as much, that is, of the two mammoth titties as she could get into one hand — and pushed them together against each other.
'Ahhh, ohhhh, yessss, gooooood,' she grunted as she stroked her twat with the electric penis and pressed her two tits with her hand, 'this is the way to get hot, alright. This is just the way to do it.'
She took a moment to lay down. On her bed, with her legs spread, with her knees bent, on her back, she pressed the hefty mechanized pussy-rub device back into her hole. She worked it up and down against her clit and made sure that the back of her cave, as well as the front, got a good solid stroking. It didn't take her long at all to get to juicing. Of course, it wasn't the all-powerful, all-ecstasy-creating juicing of orgasm, but it was certainly just a step or two away. She liked that feeling and worked to make herself feel more of the same.
'Jesus,' she groaned, closing her eyes, 'I can't believe it.' What Sharon Pettibone couldn't believe was the incredible fantasy that was rolling across her brain. She could see couples, dozens of them, sucking and fucking in a pile of blissful flesh. She could see husbands going down on wives, and she could see men sucking out their wives' assholes. She could see women getting their cherries popped, and she could see young girls, twelve year olds, sliding their hands up and down the boners of old men. She especially liked this latter image, and when she first came across it she decided to take her time with it, to make it into something that would get her even hornier.
She pictured herself as twelve years old. She was sitting at a bus stop. Her little skirt was up around her thighs. It showed off her smooth young loins. She had only the smallest titties, but already they were beginning to show tell-tale signs of a warm heart: they were always pert, always stiff and up-right and ready for action. She was sitting with her legs slightly spread on the bus stop with her little feet hanging over the edge of the bench. Along came a car and out of the passenger window leaned a grizzly face, an acned, bristly man with a strange voice. He was asking her if she wanted a ride. She smiled brightly at him, but she declined his offer.
A moment later the man had circled the block, had parked his car out of sight, and he'd approached the bench. 'Come on,' he said, and he took the younger Sharon Pettibone by the wrist. She tried to wiggle free, but it was of no use. He had her tight and he dragged her off to his car. He stuffed her into the back seat.
She flashed and a moment later they were on the ground high up above the city. It was a cliff side view and down below was nothing but a fatal sheer edge. She didn't dare try to run. The older man pulled her down on the ground and pulled her skirt from around her hips. He ripped it in order to get it off. He pulled at her blouse, next, and off it came. She was left wearing only panties and a bra. She could see in his pants the obvious bulge, the indicator of what was going to happen.
'No, no, no,' protested the little girl, but she knew it was hopeless. The old pervert was going to rub his cock up and down all over her body, and he might even make her touch it with her tongue. Soon enough he would have his pants off and she would know for sure what filthy things he was going to make her do.
He undid his belt. She thought of jumping over the edge of the cliff. That would show the man that he should not pick on such small children as herself. But where would she be? Dead at the bottom of some gully, her body not to be found for several days, rotting in a ditch with her neck broken. She decided not to jump. But the longer she waited the closer he came. He had his underwear off now, and his big boner was, pressing at her. She would either have to jump or submit. She started to jump. He grabbed her and said: 'Afterwards you can do anything you want, little girl, but right now you are my prisoner and you will do what I tell you to do.' He pulled her down on the ground, on the dusty ground where he pulled off her little panties and her training bra.
He began by pressing his meat against her spindly legs. He worked his thick hog up and down her lean thighs. He made sure that the underside of his sweaty penis got a good workout. He took her little hands in his own clammy fingers and pressed her hands down on the dirt. He had her spread out so that she couldn't move very easily. He then took to touching her pussy with the head of his meat.
'Alright,' he said after a stroke or two, 'I want you to lick me. If you don't, I'll break your fingers one by one. You understand, little girl?'
'Yes,' she nodded, 'I understand.' She blushed because she had dreamt from time to time, even as a child, about sucking on her father's meat. It wasn't the same to be forced, but it was similar. She looked at his big joint and especially at the heart-shaped tip. 'Alright,' he said, 'you can begin.'
She leaned down and licked the tip of his penis. Her tongue had never before tasted cock muscle. She wondered what it would feel like. She pressed her outstretched mouth organ against his prick. At first she did it only lightly. But he told her she had to do it harder. In a way she kind of hoped that he would say that. That way she could find out what it was all about. 'I think you want to do it just as much as I want you to do it,' said the horny old man. 'Just go on and help yourself.' He held her by the neck and pressed her face and open mouth against his big juicy boner of hog meat. 'Go on and do it hard with your tongue, Sharon. I think you'll like it.'
She rubbed her tongue up and down his thick meat. She worked her mouth muscle under his dick stick, too. She rode the stiff ridge with her tip, and then she went and sucked on the thick root. She used her spread lips and open mouth to get a good kissing suck-hold on that meaty rod of his, and she had no intention of stopping until he told her she could. He kept her head down there in his crotch for a full fifteen minutes, and still the lecherous old man hadn't had enough. She breathed around his cock shaft until finally he said that she could come up and get ready for the fucking.
'Oh, God,' she moaned at him, 'I never did that. Won't you please not make me? Please? Please?!?'
'You never gave a blow-job, either,' said the old stranger. 'But you seemed to enjoy that a great deal.' He pushed her out flat on her back and spread her little legs. 'I want to get that twat of yours all full of my penis meat. Once I have my erection inside that little tube of yours, then you can tell me if you really don't want to do it,
