Ron Taylor: Hot for dad

"Ooops," she grinned. "We'd better get you decent, hadn't we?" She reached down to pull his gown to a lower level, but the demon that occasionally possesses Betsy sprang up out of nowhere. Instead of lowering his gown, she tugged it higher, so that all his male equipment lay bare beneath her gaze.

"What're you doing?" he demanded, his voice cracking.

Hmm, thought Betsy. Isn't he finished with his body changes yet? She reached down to tickle him beneath the balls. Terry jerked as much as his condition would allow, and he groaned when she cupped his nuts in one hot little hand, giving them a firm but careful squeeze. "It isn't very big, is it?" she asked consolately, eyeing his limp member.

Her estimate was premature, for in just seconds, the more firmly she caressed him, the larger his pecker began to grow. "Knock it off," he grimaced, trying to wiggle himself free of her exploring hand, but Terry was like a fly pinned to a display board and Betsy's other hand took hold of the tip of his cock, squeezing till it suddenly bulged and gave a quivering throb between her fingertips. "Oh," she said gaily. "Maybe you're not so small."

"C'mon, Bets," he pleaded. "I'll ring for the nurse if you don't cut it out." The bell hung beside one hand, close enough for him to reach it. Betsy saw that. Instantly she'd let go of his genitals and pushed the signal bell to the side. "I don't understand, Terry," she sighed. "A candy striper is supposed to make the patients as comfortable as possible. And I'll bet you haven't had any hot, juicy screwing since – oh, since Friday, at least. Have you? Well, if you want me to leave you alone, I will, but – oh! Just look at that big hard-on you're getting! It'd be a terrible shame if it went to waste! Don't you think so, Terry?"

He groaned as her hands found his cock once again. She leaned over the bed and kissed him on the end of his peter. It was a lingering kiss, and her mouth pulled free with a loud smack. As Betsy straightened up, she licked her lips thoughtfully, and then she turned to go. "See you," she said over her shoulder.

"Hey!" he called. "You're not leaving now, are you?"

"Uh-huh," she said seriously. "You said for me to let you alone."

"Oh, come back."

Before she did, she found a small sign on the table next to the door. It read: DOCTOR IN CONSULTATION – DO NOT DISTURB. It was stamped with the name of one of the hospital staff and looked official. No one would come in till it was removed. Betsy hung it on the outside doorknob, pulled the door shut, and made her way back to the bed. Terry waited, as he must, and she took her time.

She sat down on his bed, fondling with one hand the hard-on she'd created. It had a nice, slender feel in her fist. Nothing extra special in length or thickness, Betsy decided, though she'd never messed around with a guy who had very much size on Terry. All the really big dicks must be in Playgirl, she decided. They sure weren't in Albany, Ohio.

He was almost purring when her soft, warm hands went to work on him. Betsy held one palm straightened on each side of him and moved them up and down in a maddeningly slow friction. Terry lifted from the bed with her hand motion, or at least he lifted as much as he could. She knew he was trying, though.

"Isn't this fun?" she asked teasingly. "Bet you never guessed how much fun I could be. At least not when you told everybody you thought I was a whore."

"I never!" he protested between gasps. No, he hadn't, but it was the next thing to it. He'd put her down, his quip had gotten around, and Betsy had taken a lot of razzing for several days. She'd sworn to get even, and she still intended to. But, was blowing him the way to revenge herself? She stopped in mid-fondle. "Uh, Bets," he said, making a feeble lunge with his groin in an effort to get her started once more.

Betsy smiled, a smile so sugary-cute that Terry should have taken warning. But he didn't. And when she dipped in with her head, Terry gave a sigh of joy. Her tongue shot out from between slick, glossy lips, and she cat-bathed the lip of his cock for three seconds of what must have been nirvana to the tractioned young man. Her tongue's snaky whip flitted around the rim of his cock, tracing the sharp ridges, attacking the head from the underside, where it was most sensitive. He moaned. Betsy jerked her face back in defense, certain that she'd gone too far, that he was going to come in her eyes from the meager stimulation she'd given. She locked her thumb and finger on his cock-tip and gave a healthy squeeze. That was from a magazine article. It was supposed to get a guy out of the idea of squirting too fast, and it had worked every time she'd tried it.

It worked again. Terry's face went red, then the excessive blood began to drain out and his flesh took on an almost normal tone. She smiled at him, showing off her pretty, even teeth and the end of her playful red tongue, and then she returned to work.

Her mouth opened wide and she sucked him in. His cock lay for a moment on the wet bed of her tongue as she worked her jaws upon him. It was a turn-on kind of suckling, Betsy knew damned well, and she felt him make a feeble thrust upward, an attempt to force more of his dick into her. She resisted him, successfully, for she had the upper hand in this encounter. It was her mouth and she would dictate what went into it, and how much. He wasn't in the best position for objecting, anyway.

She had about half his six inches in her maw, and she sucked on it vigorously, reaching down now and then to fondle or squeeze his nuts. Just enough to make him squirm against the myriad of ropes which held him, just enough to make his cock twist lamely inside her mouth. She sucked him harder, letting her tongue flit around his hard length.

And my, wasn't he hard indeed! Let's see – this was Tuesday, and he'd been here since Friday evening – at least three full days when he hadn't even had the option of masturbating himself. No wonder his erection felt so stiff, no wonder she could feel the lustful blood racing in each of the knotty little veins which stood out on his cock. She licked at those blood-filled channels, tapping them with her tongue, feeling Terry jerk each time she bumped him, and then she returned to sucking.

Betsy enjoyed sucking, nearly as much as she relished being spread out and filled with a hard penis. Was there some reason she shouldn't? She was seventeen years old, lovely to look at, and a resident of the richest nation in the world (barring one or two Arab oil empires). Everyone said that the sexual revolution was here and now, that the shackles of repression had been thrown off and libidos were liberated. Of course, she hadn't broken the news of her enlistment to her parents – they belonged to the repressed generation, they wouldn't understand at all. But it was her life and her body, and if she wanted to indulge it sensually, it seemed to Betsy Pike that she had every right to do just that.

Like now. Even if Terry was a prick, metaphorically speaking, he had a nice prick, a cute prick, and it throbbed like a pulsating sausage in her mouth. She swallowed him as deeply as she dared, head jerking back automatically whenever she felt him slide too near her throat. That was something she'd have to work on. If she could ever find a guy long enough to make deep-throating worthwhile. She had time. She was only seventeen. And she wouldn't be in Albany all her life.

Betsy's head began to rise and fall in long, sure patterns. Once in a while his cock slid in deeper than she intended, and a little gag rose in the back of her mouth, but for the most part she was able to control what she did and how she did it. Her head twisted jerkily as she moved up and down on him, making his cock twist too, and occasionally she let go of all but his knob, keeping it entrapped behind her front teeth so she could suck it hellishly hard while bopping it all over with the tip of her tongue. She couldn't tell whether Terry liked that or loved it. He moaned every time her tongue dragged through his cum slit, and some of those moans were quite suggestive. She kept one eye on his face, attentive lest he get much closer to coming. She'd give him the old finger squeeze so hard his dick would turn blue. He would squirt when she was ready, and not a moment before.