Jackie Powell: Spurt by spurt

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Jackie Powell Spurt by spurt
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    Spurt by spurt
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Jackie Powell

Spurt by spurt


Marjorie was clad only in her panties and barely adequate bra. She thrilled as she caught sight of her slim, pretty figure in the floor-to-ceiling mirror at the top of the stairs.

She had just arrived that afternoon to visit her cousins, Alan and Cynthia, for the first half of her summer vacation from college. Her cousin, Alan, was over ten years older than she. A successful assistant District Attorney, Alan was also independently wealthy and lived with his beautiful cousin-wife, Cynthia, in a large suburban home, so large it left everyone a great deal of privacy.

Marjorie was on her way down to the library to mix herself a drink. She figured the servants were all in bed, and judging from the way Alan and Cynthia had been behaving at dinner, she was sure they were in bed! Besides, the risk of getting caught undressed gave her a sense of excitement. Rehearsing carefully, she had words of apology ready on her tongue in case she was caught. Loving her nakedness, she almost wished she would be caught!

As she passed the mirror, she stopped and frankly admired her seventeen-year-old body from every angle. With a sudden impulse, she adjusted her panties so that most of her slightly curved belly was bared to view below her tiny, virgin bellybutton.

Marjorie's hips were as narrow as a boy's. Her arms, gracefully slender, were already deeply tanned by the early summer sun as were her almost perfect legs, which were sun-bronzed practically up to the bottom edges of her skimpy panties.

Ever since she was thirteen, she had worn the briefest bathing suits she could get away with, loving the way boys and men of all ages kept their eyes on her. Once, when she had been fourteen, she had been thrown off a beach while visiting a school friend back east. She had been practically naked, but her half-formed breasts had been smaller than those of the huge, hairy-chested lifeguard who had escorted her firmly off the beach. Marjorie had flirted with him, suddenly in love with the large, young man, so much older than she. As they had passed an empty cabana, she pulled him laughingly inside. Immediately, she had slipped her arms around his big shoulders and lifted her open mouth, pleading to be kissed. The lifeguard had laughed, patted her round, pert backside, and had told her to come around a few years later on.

But Marjorie had begged so piteously and pressed her nearly nude, small body so close against him, burying her face in his expansive, hairy torso, that he had finally relented and begun to kiss her. Her response was so hot that he, in turn grew excited and soon was kissing her little nipples, which she had freed for him by taking off her bra. Pressing her back on a divan in the cabana, he began to explore her tiny bikini bottoms with a huge but gentle hand. As his searching finger had found the soft, warm, little mark it was looking for, they had been interrupted by a sound outside. Hurriedly, they had left the cabana through the back door, and, to her deep regret, Marjorie had never seen the big lifeguard since.

Now, three years later, standing in the upstairs hall of her cousin's home, seeing the exposed whiteness of her lower belly made Marjorie feel a strong, instant desire to strip off the rest of her scanty attire. She wanted to stand there before the mirror entirely naked and engage in the lingering pleasure she was so fond of.

She found herself trembling excitedly. Smiling softly at her pretty image, and delighting in the sexy picture she made, Marjorie pressed the palms of her hands down her naked sides and edged tender fingertips under the upper band of her panties. Deliberately, she rolled them further down her hips, her eyes gazing avidly at every inch of her bare body, so that her only covering at the waist was a narrow band of twisted cloth.

She turned to see the profile of her ass reflected in the mirror. It was still as round and pert as when she had been fourteen. She had been told more than once she had the special kind of ass boys and men liked so much to fondle, squeeze, and play with. Thinking of Alan doing that to her – if he only would – made her very hot. She almost decided to go back to her room without the drink and give in to her mounting desire right away. For some time, she had given over any idea of prudishness in sensual pleasure. She played with her pussy as much as she wanted!

With lusty pride, she cupped her breasts in her hands and thrust them high. Her breasts were quite small but perfectly shaped. Unfastening her bra, she took it off and stuck her little tits up saucily, enjoying the sight of her nipples enlarging with a few gentle hard strokes of her fingers.

"Oh, God, I feel hot and passionate!" she murmured under her breath. "I feel so sexy I could burst!"

Well, why shouldn't she, Marjorie thought smilingly, considering what she had seen that day! Just thinking of it made her burn! As soon as she had mixed herself that drink she would scamper back to her room. She'd rip off anything she had left on and throw herself stark naked onto the bed where she would roll and twist and writhe as she masturbated with both hands!

She felt her pulse quicken with a new idea. Maybe, it would be nice to warm herself up a little ahead of time, right here in front of the big mirror, where she looked so naked and sexy! Just kind of slide her fingers under her panties… and reach down… ah, there! Mmmmm! That felt good! Ahhh! It feels soooo good!

Her fingers played over her pussy softly and lightly. It was deliciously exciting! Now, she was getting even hotter! Her pussy felt so good it made her shiver! How good this feels, she moaned to herself. Mmmm! Ahhhh! Mmmm! How sexy she looked like that! Voluptuously, she slowly spread her pretty legs to let both her hands work deep into the silky, curly hair between her hot thighs. Mmmmmmmmm!

Then, the girl relaxed, pantingly, and went more slowly to savor the lushness of her lovely pleasure. She saw in her fevered imagination the startling scene she had witnessed that afternoon.

The train she had taken to Alan and Cynthia's had been held over in Junction City. They had been stranded for a while on a spur track near the outskirts of town. At one point, the train had drawn to a stop alongside a row of weather-beaten houses with windows right next to the tracks. The monotony of the house fronts, plain and gray, had suddenly been broken by an electric light switched on in one of the rooms. Against the dull, leaden sky – fitting for a rainy, summer afternoon – the oblong of windowed light had seemed warm and inviting. Marjorie had looked inside.

Instantly, her attention had focused upon an exciting sight. She had never seen a man and woman in bed before! Her ardent nature rose up in immediate response. Usually, she succeeded in keeping her volatile sensuality well concealed, but, until the train moved on, she couldn't have torn her eyes away from the sex spectacle for anything in the world!

The nude couple in the lighted bedroom were in the last throes of love-making, the man plunging in and out of the woman so wildly that he seemed purely bestial! He was fat and hairy all over, but awfully exciting to Marjorie. The woman, whom Marjorie guessed was very chic despite her utter nudity, and whose expensive clothes were scattered around the room, was kicking her feet high in the air, waving her legs and wrapping them tightly around the man's rearing back. Her fat partner, coarse and ill-washed, made a provoking contrast with the passionate, refined lady sporting on his bed.

The man drew his penis out of the lady, and Marjorie gasped! She had no idea such an extraordinarily large organ could exist. It looked as long as her arm!

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