Victoria Parker - The cousins eat out

After the game, the excitement of the routines, the action, Tracey and the other girls were gathering their pom-poms, getting ready to leave the field, when the man with the camera came down.

Amid all the noise, the excitement of a win, he asked if he could take a picture of Tracey.

"Just me?" she asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Well, okay," she said, put one hand on her hip, threw her hip out, then stuck her arm straight forward in a rah-rah position. The man took several pictures.

"Thank you," he said.

Tracey saw the hard-on that bulged in his slacks. He was a man in his forties, a man who appreciated youthful beauty. He was polite, handsome, tall, and there was something magnetic about him.

"Okay," Tracey said.

"You were fantastic today," he said, putting his camera in a bag.

"Thank you."

"I shall come see you the next game here," he said, then turned and left.

"Hope you like all those pictures you took of me," Tracey yelled after him in a teasing voice.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

Tracey smiled back. She just loved being a cheerleader.

As she walked through the parking lot to the school, she was astonished to find Eugene sitting on the tender of his red pick-up.

"Hi," he said.

"Eeek! Eugene! What are you doing here," Tracey asked, putting on a little for him.

"Came to see you."

"I thought you were in college."

"I drove five hours to get here."

"I'm busy! I'm goin' with some of the girls to the pizza parlor!"

The girls were now standing in a group at the edge of the parking lot, waiting for Tracey.

"Tell 'em you'll meet 'em later," Eugene said.

"No!"

"Come on. I gotta see you."

"No you don't," she said. "Look, I brought some money. Here. How's this?" He pulled just the tip of a hundred from his pocket.

"Huh," Tracey said. "A hundred dollars?"

"Uh, yup."

"Well, okay then. You can see me for a little while. But just a little while," Tracey said. She yelled to the other cheerleaders and told them to go without her.

She walked to the car, leaned in close to Eugene, and said: "And if you come sneaking around here again with a hard-on, don't you dare ever tell any of those girls you're my cousin, got it?"

He nodded.

"So… here am I," Tracey said.

"Get in," Eugene said.

She jumped into the seat of the pick-up as he held the door open. He went around and climbed in.

"I can't be too long, Eugene. Whaddya want?"

He gunned the truck and drove out.

"Where we goin', Eugene? I told you, not too long."

"Out of here, somewhere private."

His hand slipped over the seat. He moved his fingers over her smooth thigh. He dipped under her pleated skirt.

"No, stop! Not in here," Tracey said, pulling away.

"Come on, lemme feel," Eugene said. "Uh-uh."

"You know what I want, don't you?"

"You probably wanna fuck me," Tracey said, leaning against the door, her legs crossed, her big tits pushing provocatively against her light-blue vest.

Her dark pleated skirt swirled on her legs, high up, affording Eugene lots of nice thigh.

"Yeah, I wanna fuck and do lots of things," he said.

"Well, I can't."

"Yes, yes you can, Tracey."

"No, you're my cousin, Eugene."

"So?"

"Well, I won't do anything."

"Ah, come on. I drove all the way up here and stuff."

"Here," he said, and pulled out his money. He handed it over. Tracey took it and examined the funny picture of Ben Franklin on the front. Then she put it in her purse.

"Pull your skirt up," he said.

"Like this?" Tracey asked, her chin low, a grin on her face. She kept her legs crossed on the seat and biked her cheerleading skirt up on her waist.

"Uncock your legs," Eugene said. "Oh, so you wanna see up my legs, huh, Eugene?"

"Yeah!"

"You got a big hard-on already!" Tracey whispered, a gleam in her eyes, her smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I know."

"Uncross my legs like this?" she asked, lifting her crossed leg high, holding it up, giving Eugene a hot look at the crotch of her bright blue bloomers.

"Yeah!" he whispered huskily.

"And then pull my legs apart, like this?" she asked, throwing one leg up on the seat, the other planted on the floor of the truck. She leaned back, sliding down against the door.

"Oh, Tracey!" he gasped, unzipping his fly, yanking out his hot cock.

"Eugene! You shouldn't take your cock out like that," Tracey said, pointing a finger at him and wagging it.

"Yes, I should!"

"Turn here, Eugene, yeah, right here."

Eugene turned onto a side street.

"So what do you want me to do?" Tracey asked.

"Play with my cock!"

"Play with it like this?" she asked, moving over oh the seat, fluttering her fingers along his rigid prick.

"Yes!"

"Boy, you got a good hard-on here, Eugene."

"For you!"

He reached over and stuck his hand between her legs, dug his itchy, young fingers into the satin softness of her crotch.

"You're gonna feel my pussy, aren't you?"

"Yeah!" he gasped, pressing his fingertips into her cunt.

Tracey grasped his cock. She pumped it up and down. Eugene got his hand into her pants. He slid his fingers into the naughty nest of cunthair. She jerked his cock. Her hand flared. Eugene fingered into her pussy.

"Turn right here, Eugene," Tracey said, and bent over. She licked her tongue over the head of his hard cock.

He turned, fingerfucking her, his hand into the crotch of her bloomers.

"This is what you wanted!" she whispered sexily, her hand blazing on his cock. "You wanted me to give you a good hand-job, didn't you?"

"Yes!" he cried.

"That's what I'm doing, Eugene. I'm beatin' your meat for you!" she whispered, almost like a cheer as her hand hammered Eugene's prick. "Boy, your cock is getting big, Eugene. It's really bulging up here."

Then Eugene shot his wad. He sprayed the dash. Tracey jerked his hard cock with a speed that sent Eugene into a new dimension of pleasure. The creamy shower drenched the speedometer, splattered on the brakes. He shot off all over the truck, and Tracey didn't let up until she had milked him dry, then pumped out one more gob.

His finger had stopped, but now he picked up the beat. Tracey leaned back, thumbed her bloomers, pulled them down on her thigh, and watched him fuck his finger in and out of her sucking cunt.

"That-a-boy, Eugene, do it good for me!" she whispered, rolling her hips off the seat, humping up to his finger.

"Mmmmm!" he moaned.

"Now, Eugene, fuck my cunt with your finger now! Yeah, right – now!"

Tracey came.

When she finished tingling, she said: "U-turn here, then turn left, Eugene."

They drove down the street and ended up back at the school.

"Stop here," Tracey said, and opened the door.

She looked back up at Eugene, his cock still out, still hard.

"Come see me again sometime," she said.

Tracey was dressing for school. She sat on the edge of her bed in her knee socks and saddle shoes. Her gorgeous, tight young body glistened in the sunlight that blazed through her window.

"I've got a golden hand," she said, looking at her right hand. "I got a hundred-dollar bill from Eugene just from pumping him off."

She yawned. Her huge tits heaved upward, pointed into the sunlight that filtered her room like layered smoke. She lay back on the bed, her legs off the side, spread in a vee, her feet flat on the floor. Her ponytail splayed out behind her head.

"I think I'll give myself a little fingerfuck!" she whispered, her hand shoving up her thigh.

She rubbed her brown hair, her soft pussy. "Ammmm, aaah, that's nice!" she moaned, wiggling her hips, humping her fine ass off the bed.