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Rex Taylor: Turned on family

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Rex Taylor Turned on family

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Jamie smiled, a sigh breaking through her curled lips as her fingers greeted her bare clit like the old friends they'd grown to be. She rubbed a round and round the tiny bump. It was just like a little nipple hidden in the folds of her pussy, and when it was excited, it thrust up supple, hot, tingly the way her papa did when she fondled them. She loved to touch her nubbin just like that! Her thighs wiggled and she squirmed on the bed, rubbing her passion bud harder, harder. If she braced her thumb against the clitoral hood and slipped a finger into her snatch. Two fingertips? She tried it, but the fit was much too tight.

She could only get her finger inside her cunt mouth a short distance, thanks to the tender membrane which attested her virginity. Jamie wondered about that quite often. It was all she could stand to touch her cherry with bare fingers, and she couldn't for her life understand how her first lover would ever be able to pierce it with his pulsating cock. It must be incredibly painful, and she shivered even to think about it.

Her thumb brushed and strummed her aching little clit and she teased fingertips round the lips of her pussy, excitement building inside her body. Jamie rolled onto her side, drawing her legs up till she lay in a fetal position, thighs trapping her cunt scratching hand. Her tongue peeked forth, licking softly along her puffy lips, and her eyes blinked rapidly. She blew breath at the strand of hair that had fallen into ticklish position on her forehead and she squeezed her legs tight upon the hand that explored her oozing snatch.

A fourth Rolling Stones LP dropped onto the turntable and the tone arm swung in to begin play. As the needle slid across the dry flat on the edge of the disc, Jamie's fingers went into overdrive, stroking and caressing the whole of her puffy gash with all the power she could muster. A buzzing vibration inside her cunt told her that she was teetering on the edge of a satisfying come. One more finger swipe across cuntlips, one more brush of thumb round and round the raw nub of her clit, one more tantalizing ripple of inner thigh muscles and she'd be there!

Her heart pounded excitedly and the pleasure burst into flame within her tender little cunt. Jamie rolled and writhed on the bed, twisting from side to side, legs jerking and heart pumping out a rhythmic tattoo which made the Rolling Stones sound like Lawrence Welk.

A little while later Jamie decided she'd heard enough of the Stones. Mick Jagger was sooo phallic and sexy, but she could only take so much of him at a time, and this was the third or fourth LP straight. Her legs were shivery and wobbly as she went to the stereo and she could feel the wet drippings that clung to her pussy hair and cuntlips. Her titties, too, throbbed with that familiar ache, which even the hottest finger-fucking sessions couldn't entirely take away, and as she flipped the "reject" button, one of her hands made soft, grasping contact with a boob.

Jamie squeezed her tittie, listening to the sudden droning of the record as the tone arm hesitated, then lifted up and drew back to off position. Curiously she watched her nipple coming out from its pink platform, stiffening up all over again, and then even the hum of the turntable ceased. She heard the rain first, still pitter patting on the roof, and then her ears picked up another sound, down the hall, a sound that made no sense whatsoever.

"Huh?" Jamie asked herself, cocking her head to listen more closely. She picked up the Snoopy nightshirt she'd laid out for tonight, dropped it over her head, and went out to investigate.

CHAPTER TWO

Robin stirred into wakefulness with a shrug of her shoulders, as she always did, "What?" she muttered, feeling as if she were bound and trapped. Her eyes fluttered open and things began to make them selves clear. The room light was on and she could see dimly through sleep moist eyes. "Get off me!" she yelled, slapping at the strange male figure who was roughly caressing her bare tits and who, it seemed, had already dragged her pink panties halfway down her legs.

He whirled away as if he'd been bullwhipped, his face bright scarlet. Robin pulled the sheet up to her throat and she looked at him with fury raging in her eyes, adrenalin pumping into her veins and wiping away the after sleep drowsiness. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded. "Aren't you Sean? Sean Willis?"

He nodded, still red-faced. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't think you'd wake up so easily."

"So easily?" Robin trilled. She lifted the sheet and peeked down at her body. Red fingermarks still streaked across her tits, the legacy of his rough handling. "So easily?" she repeated. "What were you planning on? Taking one for a souvenir?"

And then her heart softened toward him. He was so embarrassed. Robin's voice grew warmer. "Look," she said, "I guess there's an explanation for all this. Isn't there?"

He tuned, trying to be brave, waving his hands as if that would make his point. "I… I came home… and up to bed and…"

"And found me," she supplied. "So. You're not supposed to be here. I'm the babysitter and your mother told me to sleep in here tonight."

"It rained," he said. "We all went home. It was too wet to stay out."

She smiled then. He really was cute, in that little boy way of his, all red faced and flustered. And those were the biggest eyes she'd ever seen on a boy. Well, he'd filled them with the sight of her, hadn't he? She hadn't meant to be such a wildcat, but what else could she do, waking up that way to find him trying to rip her tits off?

"My name's Robin," she volunteered. "Hey, come on. I won't hit you again. Won't even holler at you. Sit down and let's talk. We have to decide on a plan." She scooted her legs over and patted the side of the bed. Sean came uneasily and he sat down, careful not to touch her, even through the veil of the sheet. There was an obvious hard on bulging the front of his pants. Robin hadn't noticed it before while she defended her virtue from the midnight attacker, but now she saw it, and interest built in her mind.

"Okay," she said. "I think there's only one workable solution. One of us should go downstairs and sleep on the couch. I'm hired help, and this is your room, so I ought to be the one to go. Okay? Hey, what's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Say something."

Sean blushed deep violet.

"Jesus," Robin said, "you act like you're afraid of me." She reached up to touch his dark hair. "Hey, I'm not mad at you! Did you know that your face is as purple as a prune. You have to be the strangest kid I ever saw."

Sean turned away. "You stay here," he croaked, avoiding the soft pets of her fingers. "I'll go down to the couch. I mean, you're already undressed."

"Yeah, and a lot more so than I was when I went to bed. What were you trying to prove, anyway?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I came in, and you were lying there, and…"

"And you thought Christmas had come early. Right? That Mommy and Daddy had bought you something special and left it in your bed so you'd be sure to find it? Maybe you were looking for the ribbon and tag? Naughty, naughty, naughty!" He was cute, much cuter in person than in his picture, and it was such a blast to tease him this way, but, Gods, he seemed so shy. If she were a teenybopper his age, she thought with the superiority of a girl on the edge of eighteen, she'd be crazy about him.

He looked her way quickly, earnestness showing on his face. "Honest, I never did anything like that before in my life. I don't know what got into me!"

Robin smirked. "Sure," she said, "I'll just bet you've never tried that game with any of those tenth-grade girls."

Sean shook his head solemnly.

"Never?" she asked, not quite believing him. The look on his face convinced her. "How come?" she wondered? "I mean, you're a doll, Sean, with those big beautiful eyes and wavy hair," she tousled it with her fingers before he could pull his head away, "oh, I'm embarrassing you again! But it's true. The girls should be crawling over each other to get to you."

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