Frank Brown - When Mom and Dad are away

"I'd like to see you get fucked," Jenny said. "I'd like to see you get fucked up the asshole."

"I never knew you were such a dirty-mouthed bitch," Tricia said, leering into Jenny's face. "I like you."

"I like you," Jenny said, her hand pounding between Tricia's legs, her finger ramming Tricia's contracting cunt.

"Ooooh, Jenny, I'm gonna come!" Tricia gasped, her eyes rolling back.

"Me too!" Jenny moaned, her excitement surging to a head as she watched the expression of ecstasy in Tricia's eyes.

"Eeeeeh!" Tricia squealed, her pussy exploding around Jenny's finger. And Jenny exploded with her, her own pussy chewing up Tricia's finger.

The two girls kissed passionately, their loins pulsing with spasms, their bare toes clawing each other's feet, fuck-juices running down their legs. They swayed deliriously, clinging to each other, supporting each other.

Tricia pulled her dripping hand out from between Jenny's legs and started licking off the tart-sweet girl-juice.

"I swear, you squirt when you come," Tricia said.

"Most of the time," Jenny said with a smile. She licked Tricia's cunt juice off her own hand. The taste was delicious, sweeter than the taste of Barb's pussy.

"I wish I could squirt when I come," Tricia said. "I bet it drives the guys nuts when you squirt on their cocks or in their mouths."

"Yeah," Jenny said, and for a moment she actually believed she'd had sex with hundreds of guys instead of with only one. "They go nuts."

"Come on over to my house after school and I'll suck you off," Tricia said.

"Can't," Jenny said. "I got gymnastics practice. I'll take a rain check, though."

"Anytime," Tricia said. "I wanna feel you squirt against my tongue." She pulled a fresh stick of bubble gum out of her purse and popped it in her mouth. "I'd better get to study hall or they'll think I skipped out."

In gymnastics class, Jenny found herself eyeing the coach. She'd never paid much attention to him in the past. Until yesterday, in fact, her mind had always been on her gymnastics during practice. She'd been aware of the coach more as a disembodied voice than as a living, breathing man. Today she was very aware of the coach being a man, so very aware that she stumbled through her exercises more or less in a daze.

"Still feeling a bit under the weather?" the coach asked.

He was sticking close to her today, paying more attention to her than any of the other girls. And when he caught her on some of her clumsy dismounts, his hand pressing between her legs lingered longer than usual.

"I'm all right," Jenny said, blushing. "Just a little weak yet, that's all."

"Maybe you should go down to my office and relax a while. I've got a cot down there you can rest on."

"Maybe I should," Jenny said, blushing even more.

A few minutes later, Jenny found herself alone in the coach's office. Funny, but she'd never been in here before. Dozens of photographs, some framed, some clippings from newspapers, were mounted on the walls. All were pictures of girl gymnasts, some schoolgirls, some Olympic champions. Hundreds of willowy young bodies, slim, shapely legs, bare feet and pointed toes adorned the walls. The coach was in a lot of the pictures, his arms around the girls' shoulders, his mouth pressed to victorious young cheeks.

A small cot lay along one wall of the small office. A desk, cluttered with papers, took up the middle of the room. In one corner of the room sat a canvas laundry bin, full of leotards, girls' panties, gymnastics uniforms, and bras. From the sweaty, girlish smell that permeated the office, it was evident that the clothing was in need of washing.

Jenny notice a pair of her own panties, marked with her name, lying among the jumble of girls' athletic clothing. The coach insisted on personally washing the sweaty clothing of the young gymnasts, but it always took him forever to get washed clothing back to the girls.

Jenny stretched out on the cot, dressed in her gymnastics uniform, her legs and feet bare. The uniform fit her like a satiny, shiny skin, and she wore nothing under it – no panties, no bra. As she thought about the coach's hand rubbing between her legs when he caught her, her pussy-lips swelled and the crotch of her uniform pulled up between them like a gag. Her pussy throbbed with every beat of her heart and pussy cream started leaking out of her. Some of her blonde cunt-fur had curled out around the edges of her uniform crotch. She wondered what the coach would do when he saw her like this – maybe the same things he'd done yesterday to the other girl behind the closed door of this same office – maybe the same things he'd done to several of the girls on the team, and, she guessed, to many of the sexy nymphettes in the photographs on the office wall.

"How are we doing, sweetheart?" Coach Peters stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. His eyes immediately fell between Jenny's spread legs. "Just thought I'd check up on you, darling. I like to take care of my girls."

Jenny heard the bolt click in the door lock.

"I'm still a little weak," she said.

"I hope you're not coming down with mono or something," the coach said. He came over to the cot and felt Jenny's forehead.

"I think you might have a slight fever."

"I do?" Jenny opened her eyes, surprised to hear she might actually be sick.

"I don't think it's anything to worry about," the coach said. "But I'd better take your temperature."

He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a thermometer.

Jenny opened her mouth.

The coach smiled at her. "Unfortunately, all I've got is a rectal thermometer. If you don't mind, we'll take off your uniform."

Jenny swallowed. "Take my clothes off?"

"We can't take your temperature very easily otherwise," said the coach. "Besides, these flimsy little things you girls wear show off more than they hide. You won't be showing me anything I haven't already seen."

Jenny noticed the huge bulge in the man's sweatpants had tented out further, as if he had a billyclub sticking up from between his legs. She glanced at the tent and swallowed again. The man had a huge cock, maybe even bigger than Skip's. With the help of the coach's fumbling hands, she pulled off her uniform. She'd never felt so naked in her life.

The coach was breathing hotly through his nose. "Get up on your hands and knees, darling. Put your sexy little ass up in the air."

Jenny was hot. She could hardly keep from squirming as she leaned forward onto her elbows on the cot and stuck her naked ass high in the air, turning it up as if for a fuck. Her tits dangled heavily, swollen with excitement. Pussy cream dribbled down the insides of her thighs. She saw the coach grope his cock. He was sitting on the cot behind her, his nose inches from her gaping, oozing cunt. He slipped the thermometer into her moist, twitching asshole.

"I'll have to hold onto the thermometer so it doesn't slip inside you and disappear," the coach said. "We wouldn't want that, would we?"

Jenny giggled. "No."

"Just relax," the coach said. Slowly, he started twisting the thermometer in Jenny's asshole, at the same time working it in and out, as if fucking her with it.

Jenny started to pant. She couldn't keep her ass from wiggling. As she grew more excited, she felt her pussy-lips swell even more, and as they swelled they parted, opening up her cunt. The coach was breathing heavily. Jenny heard him sniffing her ass and cunt.

"We'd better check this," the coach said. He slipped the thermometer out of her asshole.

Looking up between her tits and legs, Jenny watched the coach push the thermometer into his mouth and suck it clean.

"Hmm," he said. "According to this, you don't have a fever. You sure feel warm, though. I wonder if this thing is broken." He reached over and placed the thermometer on his desk. "Maybe I'd better check it out with a more reliable gauge."