Wilma Freidman - Sorority Affair

"No… no, I couldn't get mixed up in anything like that. In the first place, I've got girls that old myself. You wouldn't expect a man who had children the same age to buy a chance on such a thing, would you?"

"Why the fuck not?" Jud urged. "Just because a man has kids that age don't mean he can't fuck some strange snatch now and then. Think of it, George… a girl like that Lois or her sister. Linda, all for yourself for a whole fucking weekend! And willing to give you any kind of fuck you want.

And… no one ever knows a thing about it. Ocean breeze, plenty of booze, and… hot little girl pussy! What could be better?"

"No," George shook his head nervously. No… I just couldn't. It wouldn't be right. I wouldn't be fair to my own kids."

"What's fair?" Jud asked, pressing his sale. "A pretty young girl ripe for fucking. What's the matter, old man? Don't tell me your wife has worn your cock out already?"

George's face flushed. "No… no," he said timidly. "As a matter of fact, she's… she's a bit cold. Besides, I only get to keep ten dollars a week for myself."

Jud quickly tore a ticket from his booklet. "Tell you what I'll do. If you win, I'll see that the girls throw in a carton of smokes for you Okay?"

George hesitated. "Well…

"Hurry," Jud urged. "There's somebody coming down the hall."

George plunged his hand into his pocket with sudden decision and hauled out loose change and soiled bills. "That should come to about ten dollars. I would do this if only my wife…"

"Sure, sure… I know," Jud said, handing him the ticket. He explained about the announcement in the papers and scurried off.

Roscoe was a very happy man. Just as Bernie had promised… he had won his weekend with the two girls. On the flickering, primeval level of intelligence at which his mind operated, he was aware that this was going to be the best weekend he had ever known. Roscoe had never known a girl like the ones he had now. He had never in his life made out with a woman he did not have to pay and although his desires strongly urged him to the small teenage and pre-teen girls, he had not yet attempted to make contact with any. Now, though, he did not consider having paid for the girls, any more than the child who gets a prize in a box of candy that he has paid for.

Now, sitting beside Lois in the back seat of the car-Linda, George and the girls mother were in the front-Roscoe was almost insane with the delicate fragrance of her little girl smell. Roscoe had been told it would take them an hour to drive to the beach… Roscoe didn't see why that hour should be wasted.

He slipped one brawny thick-furred arm about the small child beside him and dropped one big hand over her thrusting left breast. It was a nice breast, a firm, proud mound with a small, pink nipple. He squeezed the tender flesh and delighted in his savagery, wanting to show this small girl his strength. He was gratified when she gave a short, gasping breath of excruciating pain. Lois did not try to remove his hand; she had tried once before and received a sharp word from her mother, who was driving the car. Now, she sat and let this gorilla of a man fondle her, moaning softly with the pain so her mother would not hear.

In the front seat, sitting between her mother and the slim George, Linda sat passively. Usually quiet and timid around the office, George was encouraged by the girl's stillness and passive acceptance. He had swallowed heavily from the bottle of whiskey provided, and this too built up his aggressions and he set out to explore the immature body next to him.

He ran his hand up and down her smooth thigh, expecting the little girl to clamp her knees tightly together at his touch and was surprised when she didn't. Instead, to his amazement, the little girl spread her legs automatically and his hand slid up the smooth warmth of her inner thigh and found the elastic leg of her panties, now moist with the secretions already flowing… secretions that Linda tried in vain to stop.

In the back seat, Roscoe was openly caressing the fourteen-year-old girl. Lois had pulled her short skirt up, bunching it around her waist to give him access to her hair-lined vagina. The big brute of a man was savage in his assault, uncaring about the pain she felt, only wanting to prove how strong he was. He pulled the crotch-band of her panties aside and brutally rammed two large, meaty fingers deeply into her soft, tender orifice. Lois moaned in genuine pain and lifted her bottom from the seat in a swift, jerking convulsion. Still, with the pain burning through her, she did not protest, and Roscoe blinked in surprise. She was hard for him to figure out. She was letting him do all these things to her, yet she didn't seem to know that he was there at her side at all.

Marsha stopped for gas, and while the tank was being filled, the two men decided to change seats, Roscoe insisting that he wanted to get a feel of the younger sister. George did not protest, timidly accepting the decision of the huge man.

Linda, afraid of him, did not protest as he settled his hulk next to her, knowing her mother would become angry if she did. Now, once more on the highway, Roscoe was showing his animality. His huge, exploring hand felt as if it were ripping her small body to pieces, clawing at her slender thighs and tearing the delicate fabric of her panties. And yet, in some way, Linda welcomed the pain of his rubbing, pinching fingers. In some fashion, she felt as if it were a punishment foisted upon her for obeying her mother in this wicked thing. She sat passively and let those hands do what they wanted, even though they were pulling her young, fragile body to it's limits, and threatened to do her irreparable damage. She let those thick gorilla-like lips of his come down on hers, and she accepted the lolling, thick tongue into her mouth. And, as that hand between her legs did more and more brutal probing, she found that the simulated groans of response she had planned to make were no longer simulated. No matter what the depression of her spirit, her disgust at what she was being forced to do, her body had a life of it's own that could be stirred quite independently from her tortured emotions. It could, in fact, mock her mental abilities and oppose it. And that was what she was finding out now. While her mind grew more and more revolted with this man, her body found him more and more acceptable and slowly began to blot her mind of everything except growing lust.

In the back seat, Linda heard her sister giggle. "You're just like a greedy little boy, George. Why I do believe you've got your whole goddamn hand up my little pussy."

George was drunk. He was both elated and guilty, and on top of being drunk, he found he no longer was ashamed of what he was doing. Most of his guilt had vanished-he felt like a gay and courageous young man, riding to a weekend rendezvous with a sweet little girl hardly older than his daughters. He let his hands wander freely over the small, exciting body and do things that were very bold. He thought she had the most delectable breast he had ever seen-small, but definite and eminently squeezable and suckable. He thrilled to the velvety texture of one mound that was now filling his palm. He liked the way the rubbery nipple moved beneath his fingers. He liked the softness of her earlobe as he nibbled and chewed at it, and the smooth roundness of her long, slender thighs. She was so different… so entirely different from his wife. Why, compared to this teen-aged girl, his wife was just a… a blob!

Lois giggled again. "When you bite my ear like that, I just shiver all over, George. it makes delicious goose pimples pop out all over my skin."

He squeezed her breasts gently. "I can feel them."

"That's not a goose pimple," Lois giggled. "That's my nipple… and you know it, silly. You're hands are so soft… just like a woman's."