Allen Whitten - The teaser next door

Vicki's naivete was sometimes appalling to Wendy. She wanted to look the dark-haired girl in the eyes and say, They aren't charmed by anything but my body. Each one of them wants to stick his cock in me. If making mouths water, palms sweat and pricks rise, was charm, then Wendy guessed she had it. But she wasn't sure that Denny was going to be affected by that.

The house was obscured by a number of trees and shrubs. As they pulled in the drive, the house was dark.

"There's nobody home," said Wendy, still leery about this whole business. "His car's here."

Wendy sighed. It was inevitable that she would have to make an attempt. Vicki was not going to be placated with anything but that.

"Come on," said Vicki.

They got out and crossed to the front door. Vicki pressed the doorbell.

"He's probably asleep. Maybe we should go before we wake him." Wendy winced. That had been a dumb statement. It couldn't be much past seven-thirty.

"My brother's not a farmer, Wendy. He doesn't go to bed with the chickens."

"No, I suppose not," said Wendy, sufficiently chastised.

Vicki had said he had a drinking problem. Wendy imagined him staggering across the room, flinging open the door and staring bleary-eyed across the threshold at them. When he spoke, his voice would be thick with liquor, and he would demand their reason for rousing him from his drunken stupor. What would she tell him? Relax, Denny, I have come with a panacea. Have no fear, Wonder Wendy is here. Shit!

Denny was none of those things.

When he opened the door, he stood straight and tall, eyes clear and piercing. He was surprised at the sight of his visitors.

There were no lights on anywhere. Not even a lamp cast its small glow about. Denny had obviously been sitting in the dark.

Had he been brooding, using the dark for his companion rather than liquor?

"Well, hello. What have we here? If you've brought Girl Scout cookies to sell, then you're out of luck. I just got through eating a brownie." He paused. "She wasn't half bad, either."

Vicki was wide eyed at his remark. She didn't know whether to laugh or blush. Wendy brushed her hand across her mouth to keep from chuckling out loud.

And this was the fellow drinking himself into oblivion. Echoing Mark Twain, the reports have been quite exaggerated.

But still, he was sitting in the dark.

"Come in ladies," he said, flicking on the lights. Both girls stepped into the living room, and Denny closed the door behind them.

Wendy was surprised. She had expected the place to be in a mess, but this place was neat. Everything was in its place.

Neither of them had yet spoken.

"I'm so glad I've gotten a visit, from such brilliant conversationalists. Which of you is Harpo Marx?"

"Sorry, Denny," Vicki said. "I guess we've both been gawking. We expected you to be lying around, unshaven, hair uncombed, wallowing in misery. I guess we're… uh… surprised."

Wendy gave him a dimpled smile. "Hello, Denny."

"Hello, Wendy," he said, drawing his greeting out. "My, haven't we grown."

Wendy stared at his pants. It was a habit of hers: staring at male cocks. She was glad to see that Denny had gotten the beginnings of an erection.

The ice broken, they chatted amicably for a while, about old times, about their schoolwork, about anything and everything that tame to mind. Except of course, Julie.

Suddenly, Vicki arose.

"I've got to go powder my nose. Excuse me," she said, and was gone.

"Be sure and flush it when you're through," called Denny at her retreating back.

Wendy understood her ploy. She was leaving the two of them alone, so that Wendy could broach the subject that had brought the two of them here. Yes, Wendy understood, and she wanted to wring her friend's neck for it.

"And, uh, how have things been with you, Denny?" she began nervously.

Denny's eyes twinkled. Wendy crossed her legs nervously, and watched Denny's eyes gazing interestedly at her creamy white thighs. She felt a tingle touch the sweet flesh of her cunt, an involuntary twitching of her warm, pink slit.

"We've already talked about that. Unless you mean, how are things between me and Julie. That is why Vicki so subtly left the room, isn't it? To let you find out?"

Wendy gulped. Damn Vicki and her half assed ideas.

"Isn't it?" he repeated.

"Well, yes, sort of."

Denny pursed his lips.

"I figured that much. Well, things are lousy. And prospects for improvement are very slim. You might say we are incompatible. Sexually incompatible."

She was aware of the insistent prick poking at his zipper. He dropped his hand to it and began to rub it, making no attempt to hide it.

"I didn't know… I mean, it's none of my business… We just thought… that is…"

Words failed her. She was transfixed by the circular motions he was making with the palm of his hands at his crotch.

She knew that her pussy had become wet. She could feel the warm dampness soaking her panties.

"You see, Wendy, there are certain things I wanted her to do. But she didn't want to do them. She said I was queer for wanting to do them, that I was some kind of a homosexual… just because I wanted to… fuck her ass."

Wendy's heart was in her throat. Her chest pained from the shortness of breath she had suddenly developed.

"It got so bad," he continued, "and I became so obsessed with the idea of fucking her ass, that I couldn't hold an erection when I fucked her cunt. It's terrible to go soft when you're inside a woman."

"Yes," Wendy breathed.

He had unzipped his pants and slipped his hand inside them. She wanted to put her hand on her pussy and finger herself. Watching him, listening to him, was arousing her so that she felt weak from the angry need between her thighs.

"That's what you wanted to know, isn't it? Why Julie left me. I raped her, raped her virgin ass. I fucked that tight little brownie again and again and again. And she left because she couldn't face the fact that she liked it. Have you ever had your ass fucked?"

"No," she whispered. Her voice felt so tiny.

His hand came out of his open fly, and with it came his ruddy prick. He began to slowly jack it with his fist.

"Would you like to have it fucked?"

His cock looked so yummy. She needed something to soothe the angry burning in her body.

"Yes. Yes," she admitted. "But what about Vicki? She'll be back any second."

"Are you kidding? She's been listening to every word of this. Haven't you, Sis?"

He turned then, and Vicki stepped out from the dark hallway. She was wild-eyed, and Wendy couldn't help noticing that her right hand was working away under her skirt.

"Yes, I heard."

"Fingers feel good?" he said, laughing.

She was breathing erratically. She had been finger-banging herself all the while she had been eavesdropping. Wendy was angry. She had sat here writhing, trying to keep herself under control.

Now, since everybody was playing with themselves she pulled her panties to the side with one hand and slipped a finger into her juicy twat.

Meanwhile her eyes concentrated on the stiff cock shaft enclosed by Denny's fingers.

Wish those were my fingers. Or my mouth. Or my cunt.

And then wildly, remembering Denny's question, she thought, or my ass. Yes, I said that I'd like to take his stiff cock in my ass.

Thinking about that, she felt a burning tingle in her asshole, and she wriggled her butt to relieve it.

Denny stood up, his prick jutting from the zippered gap in his pants, the knob of his rigid cock dribbling slightly.

"Since you were so agreeable to my offer to fuck your ass, I'm not going to let a bargain like that pass me by," he said, his cock on an even par with her face.

She stared at his prick. The slick cockhead was purple from the blood gorging it, and the slit in the head looked like a tiny puckered pair of lips from which clear fluid oozed.