Nan Bangcroft - Putting Out For Pop

Micaela Kelly tried to still the fluttering in her guts and braced herself to ask the question. If the answers were wrong, her hopes for the afternoon with Chris would crumble. She wasn't planning to go all the way with him, of course. But if Gabby and Patty insisted on sticking around the house, nothing at all would happen.

"What are you two planning on doing this afternoon?" 'Caela asked, trying to sound casual.

Patty looked up from her study of her budding breasts. She had been wondering if she could slip upstairs and get rid of her bra before going out. "This being the first day of summer vacation, I thought I'd go to the pool," she answered.

"I've got a special dance class," Gabby said, not looking up from the book she was reading.

"Okay. But be sure you're both back in time for supper," 'Caela answered, feeling her tits harden inside her bra. "You know how worried Daddy gets."

The two younger girls grunted. Patty was now studying her reflection in the mirror by the front door. She pulled her T-shirt tight over her little tits and surveyed the effect.

"I'm getting worried about Daddy," 'Caela noted as she wielded the dust rag. "I think he's getting horny."

"Daddy? Horny?" Patty asked skeptically.

"Horny?" Gabby echoed.

"He needs a woman," 'Caela explained, not sure her younger sisters had understood the term.

"Yeah. He needs to get laid," Patty said, startling 'Caela but barely disturbing Gabby's concentration on her book.

"Patty! Where'd you hear language like that?" 'Caela demanded.

"Just because you've been in a convent for years, it doesn't mean I have," Patty snorted, with all the sassy wisdom of a fifteen-year-old. There were only two years between her and ‘Caela.

"It wasn't a convent," ‘Caela retorted. "You better not let Daddy hear you talking that way.”

"What do you think I am, anyway, dumb?" Patty asked.

"You really want me to answer that?" ‘Caela retorted. "Anyway, it's been a long, long time since Mom died. Daddy's never even dated anyone.”

"Maybe he's queer," Patty suggested.

"Patty! He married Mom and fathered us," ‘Caela answered, scandalized.

"Yeah, but… ”

‘Caela cut her off before she could continue. "Anyway, if you'd noticed the way he looked at me this morning, you'd know he wasn't queer.”

"Got the hots for you, huh?" Patty asked, enjoying the effect she was having on ‘Caela. "Probably got a hard-on, the way you flounced around in next to nothing.”

"Daddy hears you talking like that, he'll give you a real tanning," ‘Caela answered, refusing to be baited any further. "Have you both made your beds?”

"Uh-huh," Gabby grunted.

"Do I haveta?" Patty whined.

"Yes, you 'hafta,' " ‘Caela echoed. "Now go upstairs and do it, before you leave.”

"Are you really worried about Daddy?" Gabby asked, looking up from her book as Patty went up the stairs.

"Oh, go back to your book," ‘Caela ordered. "You wouldn't know about stuff like that.”

Gabby shrugged, and obeyed.

Upstairs, Patty shut the door behind her, and glared at the tangle of sheets, blankets, bedspread, dirty socks and underpants, and stuffed animals. It was such a gross contrast to the neatness of Gabby's half of the room, it made her want to puke. Then, with a wicked gleam in her eye, she set about unmaking, and then remaking Gabby's bed. After making sure it looked as neat as it had before, she dragged hers into a semblance of order, pushed the dirty laundry underneath, and arranged the stuffed animals so they hid most of the wrinkles.

Then she yanked her T-shirt off over her head. She stripped off her bra and studied her developing boobs. Golly, she could almost see them getting bigger. She hoped she'd be big-titted, like ‘Caela, and not have silly little half-globes like Gabby did. She pulled her T shirt over her head.

By draping a towel over her shoulders she could hide the alert buds of her nipples from ‘Caela. Then, at the pool, Al O'Brian was sure to be interested when she switched the towel to her hand. She started looking for a bathing suit. She wanted her tank suit-the one that showed so much.

As she washed the morning dishes, ‘Caela thought about being alone with Chris Duffy. She would have to be careful that he didn't lose control of himself. She could defuse him of course, but didn't want to make him mad.

Then she thought of her father, and frowned. He had had a hard-on, as Patty had so crudely put it ‘Caela hadn't meant to have that effect on him. She had overslept and dashed down in just her shorty pajamas to fix his breakfast. He had seen the thrust of her lush breasts, the way they had jiggled and joggled, Her nipples had been stiff from the morning chill. The knot in his pants had been hard to ignore.

The sight of it had made ‘Caela's insides get all hot and wet. She had never imagined he would be interested in her that way. She was his own daughter, after all. It wasn't fair to torment him when he didn't have any outlet for his horniness, she decided. He must be incredibly frustrated.

Joan Peterson curled in her boss's lap as his hand crushed her breast. Hot waves burned through her. Her nipple got pebble-hard on her soft boob. As he fondled her, Mike Kelly began unbuttoning her trim white blouse. As he bared the pale mound of one graceful breast, he couldn't help thinking of the lush sway of ‘Caela's tits. His cock felt like it was going to burst, it was so swollen and hard.

"Mmmm, what's that I feel?" Joan purred, her fingers tickling along his aching hard-on, measuring it through his pants.

Mike didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't entirely on account of her. Instead, he fastened his lips on her bared nipple, nipping the hard brown bud. His tongue flicked the button tip and he felt her chest rise as she sucked in a deep breath.

Joan's skilled fingers found the tab of his fly and eased the zipper down. The slow tic-tic-tic-tic of the teeth of the zipper made his balls twinge. Her hand dug into his underpants, enfolding his cock in her warm slender fingers.

Mike groaned as his dick seeped burning fluid. Her thumb smeared it over the soft, nerve-loaded tip of his dick. His hand slid up the inside of her thigh, up along the satin smooth flesh. He felt the tight, wiry curls of her snatch and teased them delicately. Then he located her warm, humid grotto with his fingertips.

"How come your husband lets you out of the house with no panties?" Mike asked.

Joan's voice was low and throaty. "It gets him turned on to think of me this way," she answered. "Sometimes he sits across the bus from me on the way to work, and I flash my cunt at him. Ohhhh.”

Mike felt her grip on his pecker tighten as his finger slid up into her hot, moist tunnel. His thumb found the little nubbin of her clit. He teased it gently, felt it roll and squirm as he rubbed it back and forth across her pubic arch. Joan let go of his cock long enough to unbuckle his belt and the waist of his pants. Prying her hand into his underpants, she dug down, locating his balls in their warm sack.

Lifting his slender, yet buxom, secretary off his lap, Mike rucked her skirt up around her waist. He sat her on the edge of his desk in front of him. Her thighs gaped open, showed her brown muff. Splitting it was the slit of her pussy. A ruffle of pink lips protruded hungrily. As she reached down to stroke his cock, he parted her snatch with his fingers, revealing the glistening heart of her twat. It was all laid out before him: the hooded nubbin of her clit, then the tiny opening of her pisser, and below that the delectable funnel of her vagina.

The scent of her excitement was thick and strong. He leaned toward her twat. His mouth fastened on her clit and she moaned and fell backwards on his desk. He sucked hard on her clit, then stroked it with his tongue. Her hips began to roll and heave. Her fingers clutched his head, gripped his steel-gray curls.