Frank Harper - Animal farm

"If I show you how I relieve my sexual tension at times, will you promise not to tell anybody, Stacy? You won't have to do anything – and you won't be touched. I just want to show you a wonderful way that I get my jollies!"

"I don't suppose I'd have anything to lose," Stacy said, thinking that Betty was also an exhibitionist and wanted to be watched while masturbating in some fashion.

Betty had also backed away from the window. She peered through the darkness into Stacy's face. "You promise not to blab?"

"Yes," Stacy said. "Sure, I promise."

"Then let's haul ass!"

Stacy and Betty were both sixteen. They both lived within a mile of the house where they'd been peeking. All the people living in that general area were in the "horsy set" to one degree or another. Stacy's parents were well-to-do and had enough money to raise thoroughbred jumpers and she and her father competed with them. Her mother wasn't so athletically inclined and spent a great deal of her time sulking, occasionally drinking far too much.

Betty's parents weren't as wealthy and were actually from what people considered to be the lower rungs of the "horsy set". They, and similar families, kept horses for the pleasure of just riding. There was a little friction in the high school between the two groups, and Stacy actually represented the one set and Betty the other.

Stacy was far from being stuck up, but her parents' wealth tended to make some of the kids think that she was, and her basic shyness didn't help matters. She'd managed to make the one friend from outside her own set, and that friendship had been instigated mainly by Betty.

All the houses were large and were set well back from the sidewalk and the street. They were estates, actually, and most were fenced and the front lawns could be measured in acres instead of foot frontage. Most had stables or small barns and there were alleyways for riding the horses into the foothills not so far away.

Stacy and Betty were using the sidewalk and nothing was said for a couple of blocks after they'd successfully gotten away from the swapping party without being seen.

"I'm sorry you weren't able to see more action," Betty said. "Sometimes I've been able to see into living rooms and watch regular orgies. You'd really get a bang out of that. I've seen as many as ten to fifteen couples all going to town at the same time. That's usually later at night, though, when they forget the silly games they play to pair off and just go at it with any available partner. You aren't sorry you came with me, are you, Stacy?"

"No, but I think I saw enough for the first time. Maybe too much!"

Betty laughed. "I noticed that you got all hot and bothered. So did I, of course! If you hadn't been there I would've probably dropped my jeans and panties and fingered myself off like crazy!"

Betty's words made Stacy curious, but she decided not to ask any questions. It seemed strange that Betty hadn't gotten her to promise not to blab earlier, though, and then gone ahead and masturbated while watching the fucking and sucking. Maybe she hadn't meant that she relieved her tension with her fingers. Maybe she pronged herself with some other object.

Well, that sure wouldn't be anything new, Stacy thought. She'd used just about everything from a broomstick to a banana during the past three years or so herself. She'd never found anything that'd felt better than her own finger or fingers, but she'd made that discovery just a little too late.

Experimenting one night with the handle of a hair brush, while ogling some fuck pictures, she'd gotten so passionate that she'd destroyed the piece of skin that was supposed to be so precious. There hadn't been much pain, just a sharp tingling sensation, and very little blood. There'd been nothing to it physically, really, but mentally she'd suffered a great deal. She could just imagine explaining to a husband some day that a hair brush handle had gotten her maidenhead. Cherry, as Betty had called it when she'd asked if it was still intact.

Stacy had been evasive by saying that she'd never had sexual intercourse. Betty had been surprised, stating that she'd lost her cherry when only twelve. For some reason Stacy had felt a little stupid for still being a virgin at sixteen. As far as a cock was concerned she was a virgin, anyway, and Betty had told her that she was a rare breed, indeed.

Betty said that if they were health nuts they could jog. Then she added that she liked to do her exercises in a far more pleasurable way. Stacy knew what Betty meant, but she stated that she got plenty of exercise on horseback. "Jumping over obstacles will give just about every muscle in your body a good workout."

"Not my body," Betty said, laughing, then saying that she'd take most of her exercise in a horizontal position. She told Stacy that she would like to go riding with her and suggested that she get a bunch of her friends together and that they ride up into the foothills to a lake they'd both visited at different times.

"You could get to know some of my crowd that way, Stacy."

Stacy said that she was willing and Betty said that they'd have a lot of fun, and then wanted to know if Stacy was interested in hearing how she'd lost her cherry.

When Stacy gave an affirmative answer, wondering if she should tell that a hair brush handle had gotten her cherry, thinking that that would be good for a laugh, Betty began telling about her first sexual experience with a partner.

It'd been with a first cousin. Betty didn't think that it could really be looked upon as incest, though. Maybe in some quarters, but she'd even heard of first cousins getting married. Not that she'd want to marry the cousin, George. He was already married, anyhow, but she wouldn't want to live with him or anything like that even if he were single. She didn't really like him all that much.

At that point Stacy interrupted to ask if Betty had been raped. Betty said that it was more like her raping him. George was eighteen at the time. He'd been visiting the Evans with his parents when Betty got her first crack at him. She was just a kid, but she'd already started fingering herself. Her boobies had already started to sprout, but George hadn't paid any attention to her.

Betty thought that might've been the reason she'd gone after him. Along with the fact that she'd happened to walk in on him in the bathroom. George had just taken a shower and was drying himself. She didn't think he'd left the door unlocked on purpose, because their parents were home. He'd had a hard-on. His prick looked to be a foot long, but she'd found out later that it was only a fraction over six inches.

Betty had known right then that she'd wanted to sample the stiff cock. She'd been daydreaming about being fucked and had decided that that was her chance. He'd yelled at her to get out, but she'd stood there staring until he'd covered his poking cock with a towel. She'd then gone to her room and masturbated while making believe her finger was George's cock.

Later that afternoon, when the two of them had happened to be left in the house, she'd talked to him in the living room. She'd been a bold little bitch, coming right out and telling him that she wanted to be fucked.

He'd not only told her that she was just a kid, but that she was also nuts. She'd told him that she was just nutty enough to tell her parents that he'd fucked her even if he didn't. She'd apparently convinced him that she was telling the truth. She'd also made him hot by stripping her clothes off right there. He'd stared, and his prick had started poking his pants out, but he hadn't made a move toward her.

Betty had picked up her clothes, told George that he'd better come to her room if he didn't want to get into serious trouble, then took off. He'd soon appeared in her room, where she'd been stretched out on the bed. While looking at her crotch she already had plenty of pubic hair – he'd told her that he'd probably be in serious trouble if he did touch her.