Holly Hope
Slut girl

CHAPTER ONE

As far back as I could remember, we'd always been poor. I can still recall the Christmas that I got an orange and a toothbrush for presents – that was all, just an orange and a toothbrush. I was six, in first grade, anti when school was back in session after New Year's again, I made up a fantastic list of imaginary presents to brag about to my schoolmates, rather than admit that I got nothing worth mentioning. Then I had to lie and tell them that the presents were so expensive that my mother wouldn't let me bring them out of the house to play with, which (I hoped) would explain why they were unable to see my new treasures.

This was the pattern of my first few early years. My father never came back from Korea. He wasn't killed there, I found out later – he just never came back home. Deserted by him, my mother had a steady stream of men coming, staying, and departing. Looking back, I can see that Mom was a born loser in life, and her succession of lovers were natural total losers, too.

By the time I was ten my brother Rodney, who was five years older than I, had been sent to reform school for joy-riding in a stolen car, and I had resigned myself to the fact that Mom looked on me only as a burden, a nuisance, and a useless expense. She constantly admonished me to knock before even entering our own front door, lest I catch her and her current lover fucking in the daytime in the living room. This had happened a few times, so I soon got in the habit of whistling or singing as I came home from school and walked slowly toward the house, to give them ample warning. Usually, rather than hurry home to get the verbal abuse that she heaped on me constantly and unfairly, I'd stay at a friend's house and play until almost dark.

I began to live in a fantasy world, trying to compensate for the empty, love-starved existence that I had at home. At home – that's a real laugh. I had no home, not one worthy of the name. I guess that's why, when Paul Sorenson came to see Mom the first time, and gently and politely sat down and talked to me for a few minutes while she got ready to go out with him, my heart flew out to him. He conversed with me as if he really liked me, was interested in my schoolwork, and treated me like a grownup. This was a completely strange and different behavior compared to most of Mom's drunken boyfriends, and when they left the house, I waltzed around, smiling and happy that someone cared, someone noticed me, someone, finally, took an interest in me.

A couple of days later, Mom told me that Paul was going to move in with us, and I was to address him as "Uncle Paul," and when he brought his luggage in, he handed me a little box, wrapped in pretty paper, and said, "Here, Sheri, for you. It matches your pretty blue eyes," I unwrapped the box, and it contained a beautiful nylon blouse and a blue hair ribbon. I was so tickled and happy that I threw my arms around him and almost cried as I thanked him.

"O.K., knock it off." My mother's voice brought me back to reality. "Get your hands off her, Paul."

I took my gift and hurried to my room, determined not to let my crabby mom spoil this delightful, treasured moment. I put the blouse and hair ribbon on and preened and admired myself in the mirror, posing sideways and throwing back my head and shoulders to accent the buds that were just starting to develop on my chest. I practiced my haughty smile, with my eyes half-closed, imitating the femme fatale look of the movie stars I admired so avidly. Movies had been one of my major refuges and fantasylands, giving me through the early years of my life the escape and dreams that my heart craved.

And now I had received my first gift from a man. My mind took flight and soared at the intimacy of handsome Paul giving me the present, and I even secretly reveled in the thought of my mom being angry at him for showing me the attention.

In the next few days, I tried to show Paul in a million little ways that I liked him. I shined his shoes, served him double desserts, washed his car – all the little favors that I could extend to him without Mom either noticing or caring about. His flashing smile, his murmured "Thanks a lot, my little angel" – these were reward enough for my hungry inner soul, and at night I lay for hours dreaming while still awake, of the passionate love affair that we would someday consummate.

All I knew of love was from the movies and a few novels that I'd read. The tenderness, the favors and gifts, the devotion and happiness that naturally followed – these, I was convinced, were love, and love was what I wanted, needed, had to have. My mental fictions, the impossible situations and unrealistic ideas I had, all contributed to make me a willing and eager partner in what happened next. Little did I know.

It started when Mom had to go to Des Moines to see her sister in the hospital there. It was almost two hundred miles each way, and I knew she'd be gone all day Saturday and get back home Sunday evening. Mom drove away in Paul's car early, about six-thirty Saturday morning, and the minute I heard the car leave, I threw on my robe and hurried to the kitchen. The pot was full of fresh coffee that Mom had made before leaving, and I made toast and buttered it while I scrambled a couple of eggs, then poured a glass of orange juice and set the whole breakfast on a tray and went into Mom and Paul's bedroom. I balanced the tray on my left arm and knocked, then opened the door.

"Hey, what's this?" Paul asked as he sat sleepily up in bed. "Why you little angel – breakfast in bed. I haven't had that done for me in twenty years." He was smiling at me as he rubbed his hands through his shock of blond hair and smoothed it down, then sat up against the pillow and pulled the covers taut across his lap so I could set the tray there. I looked overly long at his naked torso that loomed before me, I guess, because he laughed and said, "Gotta leave the covers pulled up, Sheri. I sleep naked, y'know." I didn't know, or hadn't dared to think about it, but I nodded mutely and stood there, watching him gulp the juice, wolf down the toast and eggs, and then give a big sigh, pat his flat tummy, and sip the coffee.

"That was beautiful, baby doll," he smiled, "and you are beautiful, too. Beautiful for doing it for me, and beautiful-looking, both. Whattaya think of that?"

"Oh, I was glad to do it, Uncle Paul," I said. "You're always so good and kind to me, I just want to do things to please you… because I love YOU," I added.

"And I love you, too, Sheri. Really I do. If you were older, a grown-up woman, you'd be perfect for some man. Honest. You're cute as hell, end know how to be nice to a guy." His hand reached out and took mine, and I felt him tug gently, so I edged closer to the side of the bed, and felt him pull my body around, and I just naturally sat on the bedside. His hand went up behind my head and drew my face closer and closer to his, and I shut my eyes and let it all happen. I felt as if I had had it happen often before, I'd thought and dreamed and hoped for so long.

My first kiss was a soft, tender, warm, gentle moment of happiness. After a few moments, his lips left mine, but I kept my eyes closed and just laid my head on his shoulder and sort of let my body slump against his hard chest as his arms were around me, pulling me gently up against him. In a minute I felt his big hand cup my chin and lift my face up for another kiss, and this time I felt the lips part, and his warm wet tongue came against my lips, so I opened mine, too, and his big hot tongue crept inside my mouth, and it felt as if our two bodies and souls were melting together, and I liked it – I loved it, to be more accurate and honest.

His strong arms swung my body onto the bed so that I lay full, length alongside him, and as his arm encircled my shoulders and drew me closer and firmer against him, his left hand slowly and softly crept inside my robe, and then I felt the warm gentle touch of his big hand cupping my little hard breast. The loving tenderness of his hot hand there, and the thrill that shot through me as his fingers stroked and rubbed my little pink nipple, melted any resistance that might have started forming in my mind, and the gentle waves of love that he set in motion soon drenched my mind and entire being, and I gave myself over to the sensual touches that he spread over my virginal body.

I didn't protest as he parted my robe, and when he suggested that I shed my nightgown and crawl under the covers with him, I readily agreed to his proposition. My brain was in a whirl at the thought of this gentle man sharing love with me, and as I knew nothing of the ultimate fulfilling of physical love, the thoughts and fantasies of my past dreams and hopes and ideals overcame any fear that I should have had.

I did as Paul asked, sliding from my clothing quickly and bashfully, grateful that he looked the other way and fiddled with the breakfast fray that now lay on the floor on the other side of the bed. As he felt my body slide beneath the covers and touch his huge, strong muscles, he turned back to me and kissed me once again, half turning over me as I lay beside him.

"Oh, Sheri, baby, you're so beautiful, little darlin'," he murmured as his hand, cupped once more the breast that I pushed toward him. "I'll be so good to you, baby doll, honest. I won't hurt you, honey," he whispered.

"I know, Paul. Oooooh, that tickles!" I laughed as he thumbed my nipple and his left hand reached around my waist and I felt his hand cup my little round asscheek.

I felt the warmth of his loving touch spread all through my hungry body, and it was as if all my daydreams had come true. The soft firmness, the hard gentleness, the attention that was now all for me – these sensations flared throughout my mind and loins and the hunger for more, ever more love, filled my being and multiplied into an avid, demanding insistence on further, higher, deeper touches and exploration.

I pressed myself tighter and harder against his manly muscular body, starving for the warmth and love that I now felt being satisfied for the first time in my entire life, and as my arms encircled his heaving chest, I could feel the thrumming pound of his heart against my little breasts. The scrape of the hair on his chest stimulated my pink nipples, and I thrilled inwardly at the womanly waves of passion that coursed through me like electric current.

Paul half rolled away from me, and his left hand crept down between our bodies till it reached my crotch. As his fingers stroked softly in the peach fuzz that barely covered my virginal pussy, I felt the rigidity of his cock as it poked and pressed against my thighs. I reached down to take it in my hand, and was amazed that my little fingers wouldn't even go clear around it. I glanced down along our bodies, and gasped at the sight of his tool as it stood in total rampaging tumescence. I had seen a couple of boys private parts before; you know, "you show me yours and I'll show you mine", I guess. But they had been pencil-thin, and about three inches long. Paul's enormous cock seemed a foot long or more, and as thick around as a softball bat. I gasped.

"Don't worry, honey, we're not gonna try to get it in. I just want to pet you a little, my baby," he said as his hands massaged my asscheeks and gently rubbed my pubic hairs. "And I want you to pet me, too," he added. "Will you?"

"Sure," I said, "I want to pet you and love you, Paul. I do love you," I told him, and I meant it.

"Good," he said. "Just grip it as tight as you can and move your hand up and down on it. Yeah, yeah, that's right. Oh, God, Sheri, that feels so good! So Goddam good, yeah, oh Lord, keep it up, honey, mmmmm, hmmmmmm, oooooh, honey, you learn fast." He pushed back away from me a little. "We better slow down, lover – I'm about to blow my nuts, and I want the action to last a little longer. Hell, a lot longer, really. Now, I'm gonna do something I've wanted to do ever since the first day I saw you, baby doll. I'm gonna eat you up, little sugar-plum. Whattaya think of that?" He was grinning and sliding down in the bed as he spoke, and before I could ask what he meant, I found out.

I felt his hands seize firmly beneath my knees and lift gently, and as I was lifted almost onto my shoulders and neck, Paul's head bobbed down between my thighs and I felt the hot wet touch of his tongue as it raced rapidly up and down along my pink crack. I was astounded.

"Paul!" I yelled. "That's dirty!"

"Relax, angel. It is not dirty. There's nothing dirty about you, and there's nothing dirty about a man loving his girl any way he wants to." His voice was soft and muffled, but reassuring, and the emotions that surged through me made me want to surrender, so I did.

As he resumed his tonguing and licking of my virgin pussy, the tickling warmth spread upward throughout my crotch, my belly, and into my brain, and I began squirming at the excruciatingly pleasurable sensations that created over me.

I sensed a change as his head slowed its bobbing and I could feel the difference as his tongue concentrated at the top of my crack, and then the world exploded in a fantasy of riotous colors and feelings and my mind nearly went over the brink into oblivion as his wet hard tongue tip settled on my clitoris. I didn't even know then that I had a clit, or what it was, or was for. All I knew was that I was being turned inside out, burned, shocked, twisted out of all sanity, and I loved it, craved more of it, and I felt my body writhing and twisting beneath Paul's thrilling touches and kisses. I had to quit or go crazy, I knew that instinctively, and if I quit, I'd go crazy – I had to have more of whatever it was he was doing to me, for me, with me.

Paul's hands crept up over my flat tummy and firmly fastened onto my titties. The gentle enveloping warmth of his big digits surrounding my pink nipples brought them erect, and as his hot wet tongue slavered at my pussy, I felt the total heat of his tender lovemaking surge through my body, my brain, my loins.

Wave after wave of thrills shot throughout my body, and I knew that this was love, real, total love, just like I had seen and read about in movies and books. Paul was my entire world, and I loved him. Then I felt his face leave my crotch, and as I glanced down at him, he grinned up at me.

"Turnabouts fair play, isn't it, Sheri? Now about returnin' the favor, honey? Huh? You like what I did to you, didn't you? Didn't that tickle and feel real good, baby?"

"Oh, yes, Paul, it felt so wonderful, to have you loving me and petting me like that," I admitted smilingly. "What do you want me to do? I'll do anything for you, Paul, 'cause I love you, really love you," I told him.

"Swell," he said, and he jockeyed his body around until he was lying alongside me, then he arched one hairy leg up over my head so that his knees were alongside my head. "Now, baby doll, just suck on it like a lollipop," he told me, and I knew he meant the huge purple-headed cock that loomed so frighteningly near my mouth. "Go ahead," he continued. "It won't bite you if you don't bite it first!" he laughed. "Just kiss it and put it in your mouth and suck it like a popsicle," he said, and then he lowered his hips slowly down toward my face and I reached up and grabbed his monstrous tool with both hands. I needed both hands to capture it and guide it toward my mouth, for my little fingers wouldn't go clear around its throbbing width.

I opened my mouth wide and reached for the one-eyed head that filled my vision. My tongue reached out and licked the tip of it, and I felt him jerk an inch as my hot tongue first touched the sensitive point of his cock. I licked it again, wondering how I could, ever get the massive shaft inside my baby mouth, and then I saw a trickle of transparent fluid seep from the slotted eye. I lapped the "water" off the end, and it was warm and sweetish, but I found that as quickly as I dried the tip off, another drop or two would seep out, and I could feel the immensity of his throbbing, vein-striped prick as it pulsed against the grip of my hands.

Then the whiskery roughness of his cheeks were scraping gently against my smooth thighs, and I felt again the exquisite tingling of his tongue as it crept and slithered over and along my virgin pussy. The sensuous warmth of his kissing touches increased my desire, and I yawned widely and began to try to capture his huge cock with my mouth as he had asked me to do. Just as the flared head touched my lips, Paul thrust his hips downward sharply, and the rigid enormity of his stiff cock slid halfway into my hot mouth.

The jaw-breaking diameter of his prick completely filled my mouth, and I felt completely engulfed, even to the point of strangling, and could feel the hot throbbing flesh of his virility touching my inner cheeks, the back of my throat, flattening my tongue. I was facially filled with his cock, and I gulped and almost strangled with the immensity of its stiffness, but as I found I could breathe through my nose, the discomfort lessened, and soon I could accommodate the up and down motion of his hips that drew his cock out till just the huge flared head remained inside my mouth, and then, as he plunged downward, driving the length of his hot prick into my drooling mouth, I felt filled with his love and affection, his warm sharing, and I grew rapidly to like the throbbing heat that blistered my brain.

I gradually became aware of his ministrations to my virginal cunt, and could feel the juices creeping and trickling down between the cheeks of my ass across my rosebud asshole. His tongue lingered on my clit, fluttering me into ecstasy as his finger massaged ray fluids into and around the crack of my pussy. I felt the first knuckle of his huge finger enter slowly inside the snug lips that had never before been penetrated, but the togetherness, the loving warmth, the satisfaction of his physical caresses, and my concentration on his cock, to keep from being choked, all tended to divert me from noticing his true and ultimate goal.

Then suddenly I was shattered with reality as he paired up two fingers, lubricated them liberally, and, holding my torso pinned beneath his massive body, savagely rammed bath his fingers home, stretching and tearing my maidenhead in one swift and ripping motion. Unable to cry out, as he lay prone along my body, jamming his cock in my mouth to the hilt, I could only gurgle and sob and moan as the white blinding flashes of pain ripped screamingly, shatteringly throughout my cunt, my crotch, my belly, and exploded in a dreadful hurt in my brain. Paul's arms pinned my legs back, and his knees kept my shoulders in their original position, so I could only sob helplessly and not move a bit to escape the terrible onslaught that my cunt was receiving.

After a moment, I got the additional sensation that I was drowning, and I gulped and swallowed as I felt Paul's huge cock erupting into my mouth. Warm, sweet, and slightly salty, I had to down it as fast as it surged forth into my mouth, for there was no release, no escape from the relentless throbbing jet of his cum as it poured into my mouth. It distracted me momentarily from the surge and ache of my loins, and then the original pain returned as he manipulated his fingers in and out of my newly-ravaged cunt.

After perhaps a minute of this double-barreled assault, Paul half rolled off me, and his half-limp soggy cock plopped from my slimy mouth, and his fingers left my numb and torn pussy. I looked down and saw his fingers with blood on them, and felt little rivulets of cum and spit trickle from my stretched jaws. God, I was tired. I hurt all over, and then gradually doubts about Paul began to creep through my mind. I didn't think that people that loved each other ever hurt each other. What was this? God, it hurt to move my legs or mouth. And I could feel each separate pulse of my veins as the blood throbbed achingly inside my crotch. Then Paul spoke.

"There, there, little baby, just relax. It always hurts the first time. But your cherry's busted now, so it won't hurt from now on, no matter what we do. Relax, Sheri. You know I love you, baby, I really do. And what you did for me just then was wonderful."

I slumped against his muscular chest and gradually got my mind and body under control. As the memory of the electric thrills I had just experienced flooded my mind, the pain and shock of the moment melted deliciously away. The tide of love and affection and the… the… what was it? The total nearness and oneness of the ecstasy and sheer bliss – these waves of emotion washed away the flecks of gritty sands of pain that had, briefly, littered the beach of my mind.

"I know, Paul," I told him softly. "I know you won't hurt me. Just love me, Paul, just love me. Ooooooh, I need you and want you so much. I need your love," I repeated.

"Sure, honey, you know I love you." His reassurance was warming, and I snuggled closer.

"You and I both know that we shouldn't be doin' this – your mom will raise hell with both of us if she ever finds out, y'know – so it'll have to be our own private, special secret, Sheri. Right?" He smiled down at me tenderly as she said it.

"Sure, Paul. I'LL never, ever tell anyone," I agreed, so hungry for my new-found love that I'd have died before I would ever mention it and destroy the only affection that I had ever experienced.

I was so thrilled at the warm feeling of love that Paul gave me that all my earlier teachings, all the hurt and pain that he had momentarily caused me, did not deter me from wanting more and more expressions of his love and devotion. Mom, heaven knows, had no love for me, and I had no really close friends among the schoolmates my age. So Paul was fulfilling the roles of both a father and a lover. I gave myself over to him – body, soul, heart and mind. He owned me completely. I was his worshiping love slave.

Paul and I left the bedroom and went to the kitchen, and as he had a cup of coffee and a cigarette, I sat on his lap and felt the warmth of his body and the heat of his hands as he gently caressed and petted me all over, smiling and murmuring protestations of love and undying devotion as he played with my tender body. His kisses and pawing soon had me ready and willing to let him explore my body more fully, so we returned to the bedroom.

As long as Paul loved me, truly shared the depth of feeling that I gave so willingly, so eagerly, I would belong to him, and he could do whatever he would to me and with me. I felt happy and free, for the first time in my life. My search for love and warmth and protection in life had finally brought me success, and I was delirious with the emotional wildness that accompanied it.

"Just lie down now, Sheri, and let me love you," Paul said tenderly. I did as he said, and closed my eyes dreamily as I felt his hands rove softly over my little hard breasts and down my flat tummy to my wet crotch. He put his arms around me and pulled me close and kissed me deeply, wetly, hotly. I responded to this stimulus like a cat to catnip.

I felt his huge hands reach behind me and cup my round little asscheeks and haul ire up tightly against his hard body. I could feel the heat of his extended massive cock as it lay upward, sandwiched between our abdomens, and the pulsing throb of its enormous size heated my loins till my responsive mind succumbed to the lure of his passion.

I only knew that this was love, and that I had to have him, his body, everything, in every way, as soon as possible, as often as possible, and as long as I could. I pressed closer and tighter to him, and a soft moan escaped my throat as if the ecstasy and desire and lust that filled me was seeking relief.

"Hot damn, baby doll!" I looked up into his smiling face as he said it. "You ARE hot and ready, ain't ya? Well, brace yourself, honey, 'cause old Paul's the same way. What the hell, they might as well hang me for a sheep as a lamb, so let's get with it, huh?" And with that, he rolled away from me a bit, then I felt his large hand rubbing my tender snatch, and I spread my thighs apart to let his insistent finger slip within the pink lips of my cunt.

My pussy was already slippery and wet from our earlier action and his current petting, and I felt the heat of his finger as it delved gently up inside me. When it reached the torn place where my maidenhead. I had so recently been ruptured, I winced, and Paul hesitated.

"Go ahead, darling," I told him with a smile. Oh, I did so want him, all of him, in every way. Whatever he wanted to do to me, for me, with me, was fine with me, as long as this moment of love, this hot sensation he gave me, would never end.

"Hell, you're juicy enough now, angel," he replied, and I felt his hand prying my thighs further apart as he rose up on his knees and loomed over me. "Just raise your knees up, that's right, honey, and just relax. It might hurt just a little bit, Sheri, but I love you and will be very careful and gentle, honey, so don't worry." I felt the hot touch of his cockhead against the pink lips of my virgin pussy, and the thrill of the moment flashed upward to my brain and destroyed any natural fear that I might have felt at the moment.

As Paul centered the enormous flared head of his cock at my cunt and leaned forward a few inches, I could feel the huge stuffing of my pussy mouth with his hot meat. The massive tool's entrance into my slimy, eager crevice forced a widening of my opening that was slightly uncomfortable, but I at first felt no pain. All I knew was that Paul was giving me the ultimate in love, and my sheltered mind craved it and needed it so much that I lost sight of the physical fact that you can't put five pounds of meat in a one-pound box. Paul kept up a reassuring murmur as he jabbed gently for a few seconds, and as the warmth of his huge cock spread throughout my loins, and I looked up into his smiling face, I encouraged him.

"Please, Paul, give it to me. Give me your love, darling, I need it, I need you," I told him, and with a muttered "Brace yourself", he lunged.

My muscles stretched, my thighs widened to the breaking point, my belly was crammed with hot meat, and still his body weight was descending. Would it never end? I could feel the rampaging meat that ripped and tore into me, far, far up inside my body, and I knew, just knew, that his telephone pole had pushed all my guts out of my belly and up into my chest. Then as a dull ache spread through my cunt and up into my bowels, I heard a voice, and it took a minute to realize that it was my own.

"Aaaaaarrrrrgghh!!! Oh Christ Paul. Oh God it hurts no more Paul no more oh God I can't take it you're tearin' me oh Christ you're kiln' me Paul take it out take it out I'll suck you or anything but I can't take it oooooohh…" and my voice trailed off to a moan.

Paul stopped, stiffly, and I vaguely felt the invading cockhead touching the mouth of my womb, pressing its warmth tightly against my innermost cavern. He lay perfectly still, his stiff lance jammed in me to the hilt, and then gradually, as the sharp waves of pain ebbed to a throbbing dull ache all through my belly and loins, I was aware of the contracting and spasming as my unused, untried muscles strove valiantly to reject the massive invader that had just assaulted my inner lining. I tried to relax, as Paul kept telling me to do, but the straining, stretched muscles protested their hot intruder, and it felt as if I were split in two, so relaxing wasn't the easiest thing in the world to do at that moment. Slowly, as a numbness crept through my guts, I became aware of the puking rhythm of his throbbing cock, and nature took over from me. The gentle, insistent heat of his tool that filled me, and the soft expansion of each pulse of the veins that lined his cock were soothing and warming, and as I did manage to relax my tense crotch and belly a bit, I became aware of the oneness, the mutual love we shared, and my pussy began to respond.

Almost of its own volition, with no command from me, I felt the squeezing and loosening of my inner vaginal muscles as they answered the jetting throbs of Paul's huge cock that lay motionless within me, a part of my body and my heart and my mind. We were one person, the ultimate in love, and I never wanted the moment of total ecstasy to end.

The pain, the ache, the hurt – these were all forgotten in the soul-drenching warmth of his expression of love, the sharing of this final bliss, the introduction to sex and sensual sharing that we now had. Just never leave me, Paul, I thought as I bravely smiled up at him through the tears that crept from my adoring eyes. I didn't express my fears aloud, for really I had no fears; in my naivete, I presumed that our love was real and would go on forever, as in the fairy tales that constituted my entire knowledge of love and life and men.

"There, that's right, Sheri, see? It doesn't hurt now, does it, since you're getting used to it and relaxing?" Paul's voice was soft and smooth and reassuring. "Now we can gradually work it up and down and in and out, and you'll love it, baby, I know you will. I love you, honey, and I'll teach you to love loving, too. Ready?"

My smile and nod encouraged him, and I could feel the taut clinging sensation as the walls of my snug cunt gripped and clung to his monstrous shaft as he slowly withdrew the shaft its entire length, until only the huge purple head remained sheltered within the tight grip of my pussy lips. Then his body descended over mine once again, and I felt the smooth rigid firmness of his gigantic cock as it slid juicily into my innermost depths again. Just as the pain was about to become unbearable, I felt the drum of his meat against the rubbery resistance of my cervix, and then the joyful contractions as my muscles rippled closingly over the retreating pole as he withdrew again.

With each stroke, the fullness of his colossal cock was eagerly absorbed with more ease, and the hot vibration of his sensuous meat as it was crammed into my willing cunt brought waves of lust and passion surging all over me, and I thought my brain would either melt or explode with the voluptuous sensations that penetrated my mind.

Almost as if I were an outside, objective observer, I saw my hips leap and buck and thrust, and as Paul felt my innate responses, the speed of his thrusts became faster, hotter and the scraping of the length of his cock against my clitoris as it, too, jammed and pushed against with each and every thrust, all combined to a white heat in my mind, and I thought that I was going to hurt, or die, and then I was afraid that I wouldn't, and I knew I had to die or quit, this exquisite pain-pleasure torture that rampaged throughout my entire being, my soul, my delirious mind. Then it blew.

Someone drew a white-hot electric barbed wire from my cunt to my brain and back, and then sawed it rapidly up and down all through me, and my screams mingled with the panting and heaving that Paul expelled as his cock burst forth with a jet of hot lava that I felt pouring up into my overfull belly. Dimly, I remember the warm trickle of his river of love as the excess was tamped from my crowded cunt, and the last few spasmodic lunge of my lover drained the last semblance of sanity from me.

A little later – time had ceased for me by now. I was lying, crying, dying on the bed, my brain, my tender body writhing with the vestigial traces of my first love affair. As my eyes began to focus again, Paul's smiling face hovered over me, and I saw him relax and grin, he saw me begin to come around.

"Goddam, Sheri, you had me scared there for a minute, baby. Kee-rist! You sure come big! And when you did, I couldn't have held off another second. You really drained me, honey. That was without a doubt the greatest piece of ass any man ever had. Jeeeeee-SUSS!! That was heaven! Did you like it, darlin'? And don't lie to me – I saw your face."

The heavenly rapture that Paul had given my very soul and entire body had brought a warm, rich flush all over my body, and I would never have lied to him in any case, so I admitted it – that it had been the greatest, the wildest, the most wonderful feeling that I had ever known or experienced.

Paul lay back on the bed, grinning with self-satisfaction, lighted a cigarette, and patiently began to explain the facts of life – as he lived it – to me.

"Look, Sheri, honey, if you were old enough to get married, we'd head out tonight for a justice of the peace. But you ain't. Not by a damn site. So what we've got to do is play it cool – real cool. Or else we'll both be in more damn trouble than I want to think about. Remember," and he looked sternly fierce as he admonished me, "if anyone – just one person – ever finds out what we did, what we're doin', you will be sent to reform school till you're eighteen, and I'll go to prison for a long time. That means almost six years in a reform school for you. Too damn long, isn't it, angel?"

I heartily agreed, and said so.

"And if your fool mother ever finds out, she'll be the first to blow the whistle. Now, let's face it, lover," Paul went on, "I'm gonna have to sleep with her, and maybe even once in a while make love to her, just to keep shacked up in this house. But it'll be worth it, to both of us, because if I ever have to move out, there's just no possible way for the two of us to be together and make love. You can see and understand that, can't you, baby doll?" he asked.

I agreed and understood, and told him that I wouldn't ever let one syllable slip about what we had done. In my innocence, I didn't realize that Paul had set himself up in the best of all possible worlds for a male. I didn't come to know that until later, much later.

We spent the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday making love. When we weren't actually fucking, we took turns eating each other up, and in between sessions we lay languorously on the bed petting and playing and napping. I cooked a couple of meals for us and did the dishes while he slept, and then Sunday afternoon before Mom was due home, I took some homework that I had to complete and went over to a friend's house. That way, when Paul greeted Mom on her homecoming, he could tell her that I'd been gone most of the time. I found out later that Mom insisted on making love and "catching up for missing two days", and Paul told me that the only way he had been capable of satisfying her was to close his eyes and think of me as he fucked my mother.

The roof caved in on Mom, sort of, a few days later. The welfare, worker checked up on gossip she'd heard, and found it to be true, about a man living in the house, so they cut off her welfare check. Two days later, Paul came home with his hand in a splint and said he broke three small bones and would be off work for at least two months – couldn't drive a truck with a busted hand. So Mom got a job clerking down at the drugstore, from noon till nine at night.

That left Paul and me alone from four o'clock when I got home from school until nine. That first session was extra wonderful, because I hadn't had any loving for almost a week, coming right after a marathon introduction to the glories of sex, and I was getting nervous and fidgety. Paul had purposely been avoiding me in the house during that time, too, to be sure that we didn't give Mom the slightest hint of our current relationship.

The moment we were alone together, Paul stripped off the bandages and splints, admitted that he had made up the entire story of the accident, and we got caught up real quick. Oh, I was so happy to know that he loved me enough to want to be with me all the time! Our daily sessions would continue from four o'clock until about eight-thirty, when Paul would take a bath, rebandage his hand, dress, and walk to the drugstore to accompany Mom home. He was the picture of a devoted lover to her, but I knew that his heart and mind belonged to just me, even as I had become his love slave. I flew through the next couple of months on the wings of delight.

My breasts filled out rapidly, and I felt more and more of a woman with each passing day. I kept to myself, away from the other girls, except for an occasional Coke or chat with one once in a while, as their gossip about boys, dates, kissing, and so forth was so idiotically juvenile that it bored me to tears and a couple times almost to laughter and a confession that would have really stunned them. I held my tongue, however, and gave them no inkling of the knowledge that I carried within my brain and crotch. My entire world was wrapped up in the love that Paul and I so happily shared.

Then the bomb dropped. I came home from school as usual at four o'clock one day and before I could open the front door and enter the house, I could hear voices raised in angry argument.

"Goddam you, you goldbrickin' son of a bitch!" my mother was shrieking at Paul. "I bust my ass all day and night at that damned drugstore to buy you groceries and keep you in cigarettes and liquor and all you do is sit on your ass here and live the life of Reilly with that fake broken hand! I oughta kill you, you rotten bastard!"

"Aw, calm down, for Chrissake! What the hell does it hurt you to work once in a while. God knows you spent my paychecks as fast as I brought them in here to you. I just wanted a little vacation. And you've mooched off the taxpayers all your Goddam life, gettin' them welfare checks to feed you and the brat, so quit bitchin' and tryin' to be so Goddamn pure, you stupid cunt!" Paul's voice was loud enough to interrupt Mom's tirade.

I was shocked. Paul – my Paul – who had always been so soft-spoken, so courteous, so gentle; now so loud, profane, uncouth. And brat! Was that what he really thought of me? I hovered just inside the front door and listened to the screaming dialogue that continued to mount in the kitchen between the pair of adults.

"You stupid bitch, you're nothin' but a born loser – always was and always will be. If you think you're such a hot cunt at your age, ya better take another good, long look in the mirror, because you're over the hill, baby. Way over the hill."

"Loser, am I?" Mom's voice lowered threateningly, as it always did when she got the maddest. "Yeah, I've been a loser ever since I took you in. But I can cure that, and Goddamn fast, you son of a bitch. You're the loser, Paul, and you always will be. You have exactly one minute, six seconds, to get your crap and get the hell outa here and outa my life. If I ever see you again, you lazy cocksucker, I'll shoot you! And don't you ever forget it, you no-good low-down moochin' bastard! You're the loser! Best setup you'll ever see again in your life, and you blew it! Get goin'!" she said to him, and I heard him go up the stairs to his bedroom. I saw her cross the kitchen to get her whiskey bottle, and I scooted silently up the stairs.

Paul was angrily flinging shorts and shirts into bin battered cardboard suitcase when I entered the room. "Paul," I said softly, and he turned, his rage apparent upon his face. "Take me with you, Paul, honey. Please!" I begged.

"You crazy? Hey, look, stupid, I've got enough trouble with that dumb cunt of a mother of yours, without dragging a piece of jailbait along to draw the heat, too. Get the fuck away from me, you adolescent whore!" He slammed the suitcase lid shut. "And you'd better keep your mouth shut about what all we did, or you'll get your ass slammed into reform school so quick you won't believe it. And I'll be five states away by this time tomorrow, you can bet on that. No one's ever find me, so don't anyone try." I nearly fainted from the verbal blows he rained on my loving, unsuspecting head, and then came the final blow. "And my right name's not even Paul, so just forget me forever, dummy. You're a loser just like your old lady. All you'll ever be good, for is a quick lay for whoever sticks a cock into ya. Get the fuck outa my way, bitch!"

He dashed by me, down the stairs, slammed the front door, and I heard the car peel rubber as he left the curb. I went to my room, threw myself face down on the bed, and then, numb with the shock and disbelief of the entire situation, I sobbed and cried as I relived each and every word he had speared into my brain. That was the first time I ever cried over a man to whom I'd given myself in a vain search for love. It was not to be the last. Not by a damned site.