John Kellerman: Teaser in torment

"Ghaaaaaa."

The feeling was so intense, so sudden that I almost passed out. I couldn't describe the way the pulsing jet bumped my tiny pinch of flesh around. I could feel more blood speeding to the engorged tissues and my cunt juice mingled freely with the bath water. I let the hot jet force against my cherry, too. It was like an invisible cock pressing gently in. But it felt best when I bobbed the hose back and forth very close to my clit. The furious shivers of passion increased in intensity. My shoulders shook and my head felt too heavy to hold up. I leaned back in the tub and fanned my toes. I was holding the hose only a tiny ways from my clit now and the heat of the water was doing naughty, wonderful things to me!

"Ohhh… ohhhhh, shit!"

It felt good to say words like that. I couldn't stop to figure out why. The big muscles in my thighs stood out from the tension. My fingers were so weak I could hardly keep hold of the hose. Then one foot accidentally brushed the hot-water faucet and the temperature of the jet went up suddenly.

It wasn't enough to hurt me or burn me. But it was a new excitement and I felt my trembling body pushed over the line between sanity and madness. I thrashed and splashed in the filling tub, my fingers working as the throes built between my thighs. That was part of it, knowing I didn't know anything really.

And this strange and mysterious force was taking over! I gasped and babbled and grabbed the little red hose with both hands to keep from dropping it. My pussy was swollen open like ripe fruit, exposing itself completely to the steamy bath. And my muscles were moving all by themselves. I could feel the big ones in my ass tightening and loosening. When they moved like that, it made my hips rock forward and backwards. It was a movement, like Barry had been making when he'd climbed on my back and pushed his big cock…

"Ohhh… feels… sooo… good!" The hose snaked out of my hand for a second and I had to thrash the water to find it. But I got it back quick and the exhilarating throbs of pleasure increased like before. Then I felt a sudden wash of frantic excitement. I couldn't stand just to spray myself. I had to dig at the throbbing folds of my cunt, too, with my other hand. I gouged along where my cherry was and along the depth of my cleft. The hot water bathed and swathed my cuntal membranes as the jet pulsed against my clit and sent me shuddering, sent me gasping into another world.

"Yuuuuuu… Ohhhhhh…"

My hips pumped violently now, sending water over the edge of the tub. I didn't care. The door was locked. I was alone with my body and my body had me in its control! I could do nothing but satisfy that terribly wonderful itch that seemed, to break out in a new place every second. Mostly the tickle was between my legs, though. And the more I scratched it, the more intense it got. Until suddenly my body bucked and folded forward and I shoved the little rubber hose up against my pussy and ground it into the slippery petals.

"Nhhhhuuuuuu! Ohhhh! Come… come!"

"Robyn? You in there?"

I opened my eyes. Had I been dozing? The water was still running through the little hose. I turned off the faucets and pulled the plug. I was drying when Barry called again.

"Yes, I'm in here. Why don't you leave me alone."

"I wanted to talk."

"You go to hell."

And that was the end of my first and fast date with Barry Williams.

On Friday I was looking out the window of a 707 heading south. My dad was drinking a Scotch and going over some papers in his briefcase. Of course I was excited. I guess to Daddy it was just another working day. He was to get me settled in the Sand Palace, the big resort on the coast, while he flew off again to three more cities to visit clients. Daddy was a CPA. Somebody who cheated on other peoples' taxes for them. CPAs were the best cheaters in the world. They went to school to learn how. Daddy told me all this himself.

The room at the Palace was dreamy. Daddy stayed long enough to rearrange a bag and have a few more drinks. When he went in the bathroom to shave, I finished the dregs of his Scotch and water and went to the window to look out. I never drank much, but on the flight down something had been bothering me. Barry. What he had done. The real problem was not being able to tell anyone. Usually I kind of liked to talk over my problems with a friend. If the problems weren't too personal, I could even work them out with my mother.

But not what Barry had done. I couldn't tell anybody about that! What made it worse was that my butt still tinged to remind me of that big, hot cock shoved up inside my asshole. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought he'd stretched my bung some. That had to be my imagination! But I couldn't seem to shake off the recurrent memories. I felt a little tainted, virgin though I was. So Daddy's Scotch seemed to help a little. When he came out of the bathroom and threw some things in a bag, I was relieved to see that he meant to leave an almost full bottle there with me.

"I should be back in four or five days, hon," he said, hugging me. "I'll call from Atlanta and fill you in on my schedule. Your Aunt Ariel is going to drive down tomorrow or the next day to see if you're doing okay."

"Do I have to be looked after, Daddy?" I'd wanted to be on my own for a change. My aunt was nice enough but I knew she and her husband would want me to pay them a visit and see the sights and all that kind of crap.

"Your mother thought it would be a good idea. Besides, Ariel and Roger haven't seen you for five years." He stepped back like he hadn't seen me for a long time himself. "You be careful where you go dressed like that," he said.

"Just shorts and a top, Daddy."

"Yes, I know. But shorts on you…" He rubbed his chin. "Well, I have to run. My flight leaves in half an hour."

I hugged him good-bye and watched him go down the hall. Then I shut the door, went back to the Scotch and poured me some in the bottom of a glass. I was damned if I was going to spend any time with Ariel and Roger. That wasn't any adventure, nice as I knew they were. The Scotch was pretty strong, so I added some ice. I was feeling loose.

I took a long look at myself in the mirror. Black hair tumbled over, my shoulders, half-hiding my halter top. At eighteen I still didn't have much to fill that halter with but what was there rode high and firm on my chest. The material poked out where my nipples were. I did have nice nipples. They weren't teeny little pink wrinkles like some of my friends had. Mine were dark and thick, and when I was thinking sexy, they jutted out and got so sensitive that I could scream when a boy tried to touch them. My legs were pretty fine. Long and lean. Willowy is what one date called me. Flat-bellied and slim-hipped. I licked my lips wet, pouted. The booze made me giggle. I grabbed my bikini, rolled it in a towel and started off for the beach. There was still half a day left to get a little sun. But I didn't make-it out the front door of the hotel.

"You're Miss Durant, aren't you? Miss Robyn Durant?"

"Yeah, that's me." I couldn't understand how the man knew my name. He was broad in the shoulders and good-looking. Curly, brown hair. A scar across one cheek. He looked like he'd handled a few rough situations in his life. He was dressed casually, like anyone you might see at a resort hotel.

"My name is Scott Morely. Your father told me to look after you."

"My father?" I glimpsed the diamond ring on his finger. It wasn't showy, but it looked like the real thing. He smiled and the scar crooked.

"I'm the house detective here at the Palace. Night duty. Mr. Durant told me you'd be spending a few days alone and wanted to make sure I was aware." He surveyed my legs. It didn't take but a flash of his eyes, but I knew he'd had a good look.