Hugh Kissasse - A Little Night Nookie

I had to let go just as I began to notice a dampness on his thing that wasn't spit, be needed a lot more air so I could yell, which I did. And then Harold woke up, with his hands still on my crotch, and sat up giggling at me.

"Uh! Honey!"

I was sitting, naked as an egg, still holding his cock, and he was sitting with his right index finger two joints up inside me and it must have been a great way to come to.

For a minute he just stared, his eyes like saucers, and then he started to laugh. And then I laughed too.

It took us both a minute to get out of the hysterical mood, and then he tried looking serious.

"What are you doing, Honey?" he said. "I mean, don't you realize?…"

"I could ask you the same thing," I said, and he noticed where his finger was. He pulled it out, but the effect on the way out was almost as spectacular on me as it had been on the way in. I let out a squeal, and fell over the bed, spread out, grabbing at Harold's prick, but missing. He tried another speech, but the words didn't come out. Old Debbil Nature took over, let's face it Two or three seconds, and he was on top of me, squashing me down flat under him, working his wang around till it was right there in the lobby of my cunt, so to speak.

I was in a helpful mood, so I managed to get a hand free and catch his balls and put two fingers around the base of that tool, just for steering purposes. A quick tickle back there, and he drove it right on in, like driving a fencepost into the ground, with two or three long strokes.

"Groovy!" I said, fingering his asshole, and he began to heave up and down, while I really started enjoying the whole thing. My nipples had popped right up and turned a bright pink, almost as good as my rival in the book, and I had an all-over melting sensation, as if I had turned to active jelly of some kind. I could feel every lovely inch of prick right up there inside, stuffing me like a sausage, so damn big that it felt as if it were about ready to come out my mouth. However, what came out instead were all sorts of encouraging remarks that I hadn't known were in me.

"Man, go, go, go, sock it to me, ooh, like a goddamned RRRRABBIT!" I yelped. "SCREW! OOOH, MAMA!"

And then, I felt several new and highly interesting sensations all at once. One of them was at rippling feeling down inside, where several muscles I hadn't known about were starting to squeeze and milk Harold's driving dong.

Next, there was a curious vibrating thing, as if someone were plucking on my spinal cord-but fun! It started twanging faster and faster, and my vaginal thing kept squeezing harder in time with it, and then, Harold let out a hooting noise and started to bite on one of my tits, which seemed to do the trick for both of us. I went up off the bed onto my heels and shoulders in a perfect arched parabola with my spine turning into a 20,000 volt high tension line, and Harold hooted. I felt a gigantic jet of warm wet cream flood me all over, and we collapsed, wheezing.

About five minutes later, Harold was beginning to come to, and getting analytical.

"We shouldn't have!" he said.

"Only we did," I pointed out.

"It's all your fault"

"All right," I was perfectly willing to take the blame. "Except you were banging your meat all by yourself. That isn't healthy."

He stared at me. "Healthy! Look who's talking! You… why, you're only fourteen and doing this, and with… with your own brother."

"You did it, with your own sister," I said, sweetly. By this time I was curled attractively at the end of the bed, adjusting my braids, and feeling gorgeously contented.

"It isn't normal," he said.

"How would you know?"

"I mean, normal girls… well, they don't."

"Ha, ha," I told him, "I could number the virgins at South High on the fingers of… one foot" Well, that might have been a little exaggerated, but dose.

"That's silly," he said, frowning. "Lots of girls… won't."

"Won't, hey?" I said. "Such as who?"

"Dot Trent," he said. "She doesn't…"

"Well, well," I said. "So my brother the make out artist didn't make out last Friday night, hey? That was why you looked so flustered. She fought you off, did she"

"I didn't try to make her!" he denied, looking foolish enough naked.

"Oh yes you did, brother Harold," I said. I noticed something else interesting, as I talked; his tool was starting to recover a bit As far as I was concerned, I'd recovered right off the bat.

"She told me all about it," I said smugly. "You got to feeling and flapping… why, the poor girl was so bothered she almost died. Had that busy finger in there, too, didn't you?"

He glared. "Do you girls tell each other everything?"

"Everything," I said, my eye on the rising barometer of his dong. Hmm, I thought, if he's that interested in young Dotsy, a tottering spinster a whole year older than I, and as anxious a virgin as myself, too… sort of.

"I'll bet you could make her, if you had a little help," I said, grinning. "From me, for instance. I think I could fix it up…" His interest was coming up, all right.

I lolled around on the bed, rubbing my head up against his side, nipping with my teeth.

"If you do get her where I am, right now…" I said.

"Hey!" he said.

"Will you let her suck on this a little…?" I grabbed at it, and let go, just to tease. He flushed and snatched at me, so I rolled hastily onto my belly, reared up a bit, and peered around at him.

"Maybe you could get her into this position?" I suggested. "I think it's one on page 83… and stick your big ol' cock right on in… oh!"

He hadn't been able to resist those apple cheeks of mine, wiggling up at him. My rear is my best point, I think-small, round, firm, and neatly divided as a peach.

He slid it right in this time, and it went straight to the bottom and struck hard, with a bong. I was really wet, hot and anxious, and I worked him for all he was worth, knowing we hadn't much more time. He rammed harder and harder, as I twisted around under him, and then he grappled my apples, one in each hand, drove it in good and hard, and hung there, gasping.

I tried those new muscles deliberately this time, moving in rhythm, my hips swaying as I let my lower lips suck gently, and then faster, one, two, three, CRASH-BANG, and I went all to pieces, floating away in a sea of electrical jello, while Harold creamed marvelously. And a half-hour later he fucked me again, but I told you about that. This time it was several minutes before conversation time, and I decided to take no chances. I was at the door when Harold started to stir.

"Better get covered up, Harold," I told him. "Uncle George."

"Uh," he said.

"I always keep promises," I told him with a Mate Han wink, and a wriggle of my entirely-contented hips. "You and Dottie will make it, trust your girl, Honey. Bye!"

Just incidentally, I happened to know why Uncle George was an absolutely safe bet not to come home while I was carrying on in that utterly perverse way. Uncle George owns the biggest and fanciest drugstore in town, and is a pharmacist himself, but he usually knocks off at three, leaving the place in the hands of Junior Kelso, who is a pill-mixer too, and quite old, almost twenty-five. However, Junior was a positive dreamboat, and very cool, and I know about some of his goings on; and after a prolonged and panting description of his techniques, which I overheard Lily Dacker giving, I had my mind made up that one of these days he was going to bruise my girlish flesh.

Though that might have one difficulty, Junior being as cool a cat as he was; he was therefore careful, too, and in no position to go around risking becoming the prison drugstore manager for the old statutory thing. That was about the main stumbling block in the way of most of us hot-blooded maidens around town-the fact that most males knew about the law. Even if we rip our own garments off and offer our pulsing flesh to some groovy cat, we're in much less danger than he is, until we pass the magic age-point. Pfah!