Walter Collins - Make me come!

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We talked well into the morning and I felt a little more like a human being by the time we were done. I was glad it was Saturday because Mr. Walker didn't have to go to work. I knew he'd have tied me to the bed if he'd been forced to go someplace. At any rate I would have a week to dry out and think it over without worrying about shoving anything inside me. My period had started during chores Saturday afternoon.

CHAPTER FIVE

The week gave me a lot of time to think. Mr. Walker stayed with me all weekend and then, convinced that I wouldn't try to slit my wrists again, just called on me four or five times a day for the rest of the week. I will say this about the man he was a good talker. He would have made a good shrink. He convinced me that I was perfectly normal and that if I worked on it long enough I'd find my lost orgasms.

But if Mr. Walker was right about my orgasms returning with time I knew I'd have to find someone, somewhere close to it to help me too. The dogs were fun and so was Mr. Walker, but I needed someone to talk with that might understand me. Someone with the same doubts and fears, someone with the same interests. I'd need to start going for walks again. Only this time I was going to take the dogs with me. No one would attack me with them along.

It was too late to even think about a walk that evening and it wouldn't do a whole lot of good, with me still in my period, so I moped around the house, playing with myself. I did the same thing for the next two days, until I stopped spotting.

Alter chores on Saturday I got the three dogs together and started merrily down the road. Just the thought of what I was going to do if I found someone was enough to make the crotch of my panties wet.

I couldn't bear to go toward the field where I'd been attacked, and instead turned in the opposite direction and wandered aimlessly down the dusty, rutted farm road. It was peaceful and lovely, with the aroma of alfalfa, lilac, wild flowers and irrigation ditches in the warm summer afternoon. My thoughts followed the path of any teenager's, and I looked wistfully at each pond I passed wondering what kind of a secret swimming hole it would make.

The house was about a mile behind me when I rose to the top of a small hill and spotted two bikes leaning, abandoned, against a barbed-wire fence. The sharp longing gripped my crotch again and my pulse sped up. Looking down through a small fringe of trees I spotted a pond, hidden behind a lovely blanket of cattails. Climbing the fence I tiptoed into the trees and crept to the edge. There in the middle of the pond was a boy, thin, wiry and blond. Next to him was a girl, the same height and weight as me. She was also blonde, with enough of the same features to tell me they were obviously brother and sister.

Strike, Loredo and Cuddles gave away my hiding place by racing happily into the reeds, yelping at the top of their lungs. The teens had been skinny dipping and, as luck would have it, I was right next to their clothes.

"Mind if I join you?" I giggled, knowing they couldn't get to their clothes but not wanting them to panic and run away.

"Nah – come on in, the water's nice and cool," the boy answered, his eyes shining bright as he watched me start to disrobe.

I played innocent and took my time getting out of my things, being sure I excited him as much as possible. When I was finally out of all my clothes I stood there for a second, turned around so he could get a side and back view as I set my thing next to theirs, then turned and stretched my arms high above my head so my tits rose and jutted out.

The water was just right. It was chilly, but not cold enough to freeze me. I waded out, to where they stood, and introduced myself.

The boy, John Richards, was really excited, and his sister, Lucy, couldn't keep her eyes off me. I got a big kick out of that because hers had just started and looked more like golf balls with brown paint on the tips than tits.

We giggled, played, swain and splashed. I managed to rub against John several times, but had to be careful I didn't scare him off. Finally, when we were all fired, cooled off and ready to go, I invited Lucy over to spend the night. I really wanted John, but I figured it would be better to go slow and build up to it. If I could seduce Lucy then I'd be able to get John without trouble. If I made Lucy jealous, or if she got mad at me, then I'd never get John.

Lucy was thrilled with the idea. They knew my aunt and where we lived.

After dinner and a lot of girl-talk we settled down to listen to my record collection and dance. It was a lot of fun to try out different movements and steps on each other. She was fascinated with one really wild, hip swinging, shoulder jarring routine I'd cooked up, but couldn't get the hang of it.

That was the opening I had been waiting for. Using the excuse that she'd learn it better if she could watch my body movements, I stripped down to my panties and bra. I showed her the steps and swinging movements again and insisted she undress so I could see if her body was doing it right. She didn't wear a bra yet so I took mine off too.

It wasn't a brilliant way of doing it but she was only eleven and so innocent that I didn't have to be smooth about it. It was easy to turn the conversation from dance to sex after that.

I commented on how lovely her tits were, and she gushed over how she hoped hers grew to be like mine. I reached out and felt them before she could stop me, quickly assuring her that mine had felt just like that. It didn't take much coaxing to get her to feel mine. Before long we were checking out each other's cunts.

Mine was drooling. She'd never seen cunt-juice before, which gave me the excuse I needed. Trailing my fingers lightly between her legs for a few seconds I teased her tight little cuntlips.

It was strange. I'd forgotten how the soft, downy fuzz felt. Mine had turned to curly wire a long time ago and the feel of her fuzz really turned me on. I rubbed every little wrinkle and pink fold on the outside of her cunt until a trickle of syrup oozed out of the tight hole and ran onto the pale-white tenderness of her velvety ass-cheeks.

After dinner and a lot of girl-talk we settled down to listen to my record collection and dance. It was a lot of fun to try out different movements and steps on each other. She was fascinated with one really wild, hip swinging, shoulder jarring routine I'd cooked up, but couldn't get the hang of it.

That was the opening I had been waiting for. Using the excuse that she'd learn it better if she could watch my body movements, I stripped down to my panties and bra. I showed her the steps and the swinging movements again and insisted she undress so I could see if her body was doing it right. She didn't wear a bra so I took mine off too.

It was easy to turn the conversation from dance to sex after that.

I commented on how nicely her tits were, and she gushed over how she thought mine looked so great. I reached out and felt them before she could stop me, quickly assuring her that mine had felt just like that. It didn't take much coaxing to get her to feel mine. Before long as we were checking out each other's cunts. Mine was drooling. She'd never seen cunt-juice before, which gave me the excuse I needed.

Trailing my fingers lightly between her legs for a few seconds I teased her tight little cuntlips. It was strange. I'd forgotten how the soft hair felt. I rubbed every little wrinkle and pink fold on the outside of her cunt until a trickle of syrup oozed out of the tight hole and ran onto the pale-white tenderness of her velvety ass-cheeks.

"Here," I cooed, "let me show you why you get that way."

She let me spread her slender thighs further without argument. I wet my finger in the clear syrup, prayed my luck would hold, and carefully eased a finger inside. She gasped and began to blush furiously. She was too far gone now to stop me.

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