"Naughty aunt Susan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Taylor Ron)

CHAPTER TWO

Eric was slated to catch his share of that hell, but he jumped off the couch, trying to get his cock inside his pants, and the lucky boy managed to sidle past Mama and Daddy and out the door. Daddy lunged after him but missed, and then he and my mother were both in the living room with me, their eyes burning with anger.

It took me a moment to realize that my tee-shirt was still pulled up, leaving my tits free and naked to their inspection. I tugged it down quickly. Daddy began to holler and Mama started to cry, both at the same time. I didn't know which of them I should listen to.

"We've given you everything!" Mama wailed between sobs, as if that was a logical argument.

"Who was that boy?" Daddy thundered impressively. He's a big, well-turned man – I could go for him, if he wasn't my daddy and if I had a thing for older men, which I really don't and his flats knotted as he waited for my answer.

"His name's Harry," I lied, finding something that sounded close. "I met him at the club, and he brought me home. Oh, Daddy, we weren't doing anything, really!"

"Not doing anything?" Mama sniffed.

"Not doing anything?" Daddy echoed. "We come home and find the two of you half-naked on the couch, your hands on his."

"We were only petting," I protested. "All the kids do it." Petting was their generation's word; I figured they'd understand it. To me it was just foreplay.

"And what if we'd come in a few minutes later?" he yelled. "What would we have found then? Pamela, I want to know right now – have you done this sort of thing before? Who with? Have you – have you ever done…"

Mama's eyes got really big and she looked as if she were going to have a nervous breakdown on the spot. She's a small lady, dainty and delicate, pretty, and she looks so helpless when she's in distress.

From the mood they were in, I didn't think my parents were ready to hear an uncensored account of just what sort of things I'd done before and would do in the future at every opportunity. I lied. "I know what you mean, Daddy," I said, blushing by will alone. "And what kind of a girl do you think your daughter is? Do you think I'm some kind of sleep-around tramp? I'm a good girl." That was true. The consensus among my better friends was that I was pretty good. "But, when you're sitting and talking with a boy, and you maybe kiss him a time or two because he wants to do it, and then he touches you, and – well, he gets excited, you know? And…"

Daddy helped Mama sit down and he flopped into a chair himself. "So," he cut in, "you masturbate him? Do you do that with all the boys you date? My God, I'll kill every one of them!"

I'd talk myself into a corner in spite of everything. "No, no, no!" I squealed. "It's not that way at all!" but it was too late. Mama had regained some of her control and she began to talk.

"We can't go away now, George," she told Daddy. "I couldn't sleep if I thought about Pamela here alone, what she might be getting herself into…"

Oh, shit! I had really blown it now! And all because I wanted to go swimming. See what I mean? If we'd had a pool of our own, none of it would ever have happened.

Daddy shook his head. "I don't think we can cancel out now," he mused. "But we can't leave her here by herself either. Maybe your parents would like to have her as a guest while we're away. They hardly ever get to see her."

Anything but that! Grandpa and Grandma lived in a retirement village in Florida and they read Bible verses every night for a couple of hours before going to bed. Jesus, I'd die there!

"It's so far," Mama said, and I tried not to nod in agreement. She thought a moment and her face brightened. "What about Susan? She'd be a wonderful influence an Pam, wouldn't she?"

Aunt Susan? God almighty! That was nearly as bad as Gran and Gramp! Aunt Susan is Mama's youngest sister. She's a writer and lives in a farmhouse somewhere in Ohio, of all grungy places, and she looks like a dishrag. A nunnery would be livelier than her place for a month. I felt sick.

"Yes," Daddy agreed. "Susan would be perfect. Do you think she'd mind?" Mama shook her head, and it seemed that they had the matter decided between them. Well! There went all my plans for a month of partying and frolicking.

"Don't you trust me?" I whined, and the stern looks an their faces was answer without words. I winced and got up.

"Where are you going now?" Daddy blasted.

"To Lilly's," I replied in a hurt voice. "I should let her know that she won't be able to come stay with me, since I won't be staying myself."

They grumbled, but they finally let me go, though Daddy checked the mileage on the car before I left and warned me that any suspicious extra distance when I got back would be taken out of my hide.

Lilly would be pissed, I thought, but not half as pissed as I was. We'd been making big plans. But it was most definitely off for now, and it was all my fault.

Lilly's mom was on her way out, and she told me to go on in, that Lilly was in the bathroom, where else? I heard the water running in the room down the hall as I flopped down on Lilly's bed, curling my legs in the air.

In a moment or two she entered the room, wearing a towel and a headful of wet hair. "Oh, hi," she said, sarcastic as shit. "Jesus, Pam, what's wrong with you? You look like a girl who just found out the rabbit died."

"Worse," I said, and I told her the whole story as she stood beside me. Her face clouded.

"Oh, crud! When you fuck, you fuck, don't you? Couldn't you have gone out and parked somewhere like any normal girl? Why did you have to bring him home and screw him in the parlor?"

"Yeah," I pouted, twisting my fingers in the tail of my shirt. "Sometimes I think you're right about this women's lib stuff, Lil. If I'd been a boy and they'd walked in on that scene, Daddy would have been smirking up a storm. He'd have slapped my back and offered me some of his private stock of rubbers and told me a couple of dirty jokes. But girls are different. Daddy wants to kill, and all Mama does is cry. I should have given them something to cry about. A full confession."

Lilly shrieked in laughter. "You'd have given them coronaries! Would you have told them about me, too?"

"Bet your buns," I said. She grinned, did a quick hoochie-koochie that made her towel glide to the floor, and then she covered me with her sinuous body.

Lilly was the first lover I ever had. We've been friends since fifth grade, when her family moved here, and we've shared everything. My body started growing before hers did and I used to flaunt it at her, twitching my butt and pulling my sweaters tightly over the pair of delicate cupcakes I had then, and it really pissed her off. We'd fight and call each other dirty bastards, and then we'd make up with little kisses and pets of endearment.

Well, one day, when we were friends again, she lured me into her garage and pulled up her dress. She dropped her panties and showed me, with a bold sneer of superiority, the little downy hairs that were sprouting around her pussy. She even invited me to touch them.

I suppose we were eleven then, just finishing up sixth grade. I was already wearing a training bra, but Lilly's tits were mostly big smears of pink nipple. But she had cunt hair, and I didn't. That hackled me, and when I touched her, I was kinda rough. I slid my fingers along the tight line of her slit till she started breathing hard and heavy, and then I pushed inside it, poking around to see just what was there.

Lilly gave a holler and she closed her legs on me. My hand was trapped in her crotch and she rocked back and forth, huffing and panting. Her hair swayed from side to side and she closed her eyes, while little warbling noises oozed from her lips. Something else was oozing, down where my hand was. It was wet and warm, seeping out of her pussy, dampening my fingers, and I didn't know enough to realize that she was having a hell of an orgasm.

It excited me. I used my hand more forcefully, making her cry out again, making her shudder from head to toes, and I put my other hand on her chest, massaging the growing nipples through her dress and undershirt. She went all white in the face and she moaned and my own head got giddy and light, till I thought I was going to pass out on the spot from wondrous excitement. There was a warmth between my own legs, and I squeezed that warm tingle with my thighs.

When Lilly let me go, her face was flushed and moist. And nothing would do her but she must have a look at my pussy and see if she could do the same thing to me with her hands that I'd done to her.

We were sitting on a pile of soft carpet remnants, and they tickled my bare ass when Lilly pulled down my drawers. But they didn't tickle half so much as the fluttering pressures of her delicate fingertips across my half-formed cunt. One stroke and I was wet, two strokes and my little pussy-lips were swollen like a battered nose. We giggled nervously, and then she inserted a fingertip.

The parting my cuntal flanges was so overwhelming and so intense in its back and forth pull on my clitty that I creamed on the spot, and her fingers were aromatic and spicy with my juices.

That was in 1970, and thank God, word was getting around that masturbation wasn't harmful to growing girls. Lilly and I found that out, after we'd been doing it to one another for a couple of months, and from then on we didn't feel quite so guilty. By the time school started again in the fall and we entered the seventh grade hand in hand, we'd progressed to a little cautious mouth-to-snatch play.

In junior high we discovered boys, and we started feeling guilty again. For the next year or two we kept on fooling around, but now we had a justification. If we spent hours kissing and necking, touching and sucking titties, fingering or eating pussies, it was all okay – we were just practicing up for the days when we'd be going out with boys. Sometimes Lilly took the male role and sometimes I did. We'd go through little playlets of seduction. She'd be the dreamy date, picking me up at my house, taking me out, and slowly, by sensuous erotic degrees, she'd warm me up with kissing and petting till my body itched to be stripped bare.

And of course she'd oblige me. I was wearing something bigger than a training bra now, and her fingers burned as they touched its well-filled cups. She'd tease me then, stroking, fondling, cupping, till my nipples scorched the nylon and thrust out imploringly, and then I'd beg her to take off my bra and suck away the aching hunger in me.

Lilly would do just that, but only when I was so hot I couldn't stand to live inside my burning body and had peeled the bra from my tits by myself. Suck me, bite me, dribble me with spit and then lick it into my flesh – Lilly knew more ways of making love to a pair of titties than anyone I've ever known!

I grooved on what she did to me, but most of all I liked it when she'd lie upon me and grind her pussy against mine till both our cunts throbbed in unison and we gasped and moaned our come delight into one another's mouths. And when the shivering of our bodies subsided enough, we'd switch roles. This time I'd be the boy, and I'd give her hell.

We weren't lesbians, of course. Just healthily bisexual. Bi has become really in the last few years, but we've always known there was nothing wrong with it.

We lost our cherries the same night. When we started our sophomore year, the school held a mixer-dance, and Lilly and I shook hands and put on our cuntiest dresses – no undies to interfere with bobbling titties or wiggly butts – and we went with blood in our eyes. We ended up with blood in our crotches and joy in our hearts. I found a farm boy from out in the county, big and blond, and I lured him outside. When he got me into the bushes, he became a raging animal, and before I knew it I was on my back, my skirt up to my waist, and his cock jiggling where my cherry used to be. It hurt, but only a little. Lilly had to use a bit more persuasion, but she finally managed to get done in before the night was out. We had a good cry together afterwards and entered life as women.

Anyway, Lilly and I are best friends, you know, so I can say truthfully that she's not the most gorgeous girl in the world. She's a few pounds underweight, and her boobs never really grew. Her face is cute, in a squirrelly way, and she has pretty hair. Too much, though. She's been on a women's lib kick for months, and she's refused to shave here legs or her underarms, and I heard one guy tell another one that screwing her was like screwing a monkey. "But a freaked-out monkey," he added quickly, and I knew what he meant.

Ever since she'd started reading about women's rights, she'd gotten more aggressively lesbian. She still fucked guys, sure, but only if she really felt like it. But get the two of us alone in a room and those hot hands were all over me, feeling and investigating and scratching anyplace I might itch. Sometimes I dug it, sometimes I didn't. Right now, I dug it, in a big way.

She pounced on me and laid me back on the bed, curling her legs around me tightly. Her hands yanked at the tail of my shirt and pulled it up so that my nipples were exposed for some patented Lilly-style sucking. I felt the tips erecting into her hungry mouth and I fondled her head while she nursed me, my bare thighs lifting so that it rubbed her super-hairy crotch. She used to trim her beaver, the way I do, but not lately. The hair was thick and long and it tickled me as much, I'm sure, as the rubbing of my thigh tickled her in reply. I started to giggle.

She looked up then. "What's so funny?" she wandered.

"You are, monkey," I snickered in reply. It was our private joke. Lilly sat up quickly, scooting forward so that her thick bush bumped me in the face.

"How funny is this?" she asked, nudging me with it.

"Mmmfff-mmmffffff!" I muttered back as my tongue began to delve among her hairs, seeking the gate that lurked inside her jungle. My hands clutched the lean cheeks of her ass, digging into the flesh, and I started to tickle her asshole while I licked pussy.

Lilly liked that. She always did. She began to rock and bounce on my face, puffing and humming, so I began to work the tip of my middle finger on her asshole.

She was still damp from her bath, and her skin was soft and yielding. My finger poked and prodded, and she was working with me, and with a cry of triumph she accepted the sudden thrust of my digit up her ass. She squirmed to take it, giving me an even hairier mouthful of her snatch, and my tongue found the puffy gate of her slice. I knocked with one-two-three quick tippy-taps and she opened to receive me.

As I licked and tongued her cunt, I kept working that middle finger in her shitter. She lurched and jerked each time I pushed it deep, and that just brought her cunt more firmly to rest on my sucking mouth, and both of us enjoyed that.

"Mmmm, love ya!" Lilly chanted as I ate her out, and she jerked with increasing passion each time my tongue ferreted through her moist cunny-lips and anointed the bud of her cunt. She bounced on my face, nearly strangling me with her clean-smelling but ghastly-thick pussy fur, and then she was lifting herself bodily, dragging her snatch beyond my reach. My hand was still caressing and finger-fucking her asshole, and that arm lifted with her till I had no choice but to let the cork pop.

Lilly shrieked when my finger slid out, and she stood above me for a second, her cunny region twitching. I reached up for a friendly goose of her butt and she squealed again. She whirled round and plopped down upon me once more, this time in reversed position, and as I began to lick her gash from back to front, Lilly undid my cutoffs and tugged them down far enough to lay me bare.

She didn't waste a moment. The first thing she did was to nuzzle my pubes with her squirrelly face, biting the little pink flanges that protrude ever so slightly from my cunt. I squirmed to feel her teeth on my twat – she was a bit rougher than usual, but I didn't really mind – and then she had her fingers in my gash, digging and spreading. My butt moved upward to meet her, and her tongue tiptoed across my cunt-mound with dabbing steps.

I pulled the cheeks of her ass to their widest and rammed her asshole with the tip of my nose. She giggled into my pussy and I replaced my nose with a finger. Her bung sucked it up eagerly and I could feel her sphincter muscles clasping and unclasping. It was an interesting effect, and I twisted my finger inside her, letting the knuckle gouge this way and that. There were tiny droplets of moisture gleaming on the hair ends round her gash, too. Some of it was Lilly's juice and a lot of it was my drool. I covered her box with my mouth and sucked at her plump thrusting cunt-mound, grinding my teeth gently on the fleshy swell.

And she gave me in return. She spread my cunt-lips with ten slim fingertips whose nails she kept trimmed from consideration. Her hands tugged at my pussy, making it yawn before her eyes, and I writhed with the delicious torment of it. I stretch, sure, but she seemed determined to test my elasticity all the way, and I didn't think I could take much more spreading. Lilly solved that problem. As soon as I was fully displayed for her, she brought her face down and tried to fuck me with it. I felt her nose and her mouth and her chin's point alternately grubbing in my furrow, and I wished I could open wide enough to take her whole Goddamned head into me. I'd suffocate her with my snatch, drown her in a flood of cream and love!

I lifted my own head and bored into her juicy slit with a zestful fervor that soon had her twat slick and sloppy. My tongue punctured the cave of her sex and wiggled round like a snake. My finger slid all the way up her ass, there to jiggle in frustration, but a jiggle that made Lilly's butt sway excitedly.

Lilly and I had been tight for so long we didn't need instructions on how to satisfy the other. When I took her twitching cunt between my lips and pulled insistently, she did the same to me and I drenched her mouth with my sudden flow. She drank it greedily and flogged my snatch with her tongue, forcing me to pour out even more girl-jism, and at the same time she ground her cunt upon me so that I could give her the same treatment.

I did, and gladly. I had one hand engaged in fondling and diddling her ass; the other hand came up to join my mouth and I stuffed three fingers, all of them straight and rigid, into her gash while I sucked hell out of her nubbin. She fought the urge to come – I suppose she wanted to make it last forever – but she couldn't hold herself that long. In another minute she was jelly on my face, her hair soaked with her cunt-cream, that tangy mat of pussy fur blinding me, choking me. It was only a quickie, but Lilly and I were both sex-tipsy when it was over, and we lay on the bed hugging and kissing, her hands busy on my tits. I touched her smaller boobs in reply. They were warm and damp and I could feel her heartbeat scampering behind the left one as I pressed it.

"You know," Lilly murmured, "what I really hate is that we won't be staying together while your folks are away. I'd been counting on that."

"So had I! I was really in the mood to party."

She kissed me lingeringly. "I'd been thinking about something else, hon. Just the idea of living with you makes me itch between my legs. Feel," and she guided my hand to her twat. I couldn't tell if it was itching, really, but I scratched her box playfully all the same and she oozed against me.

"I've decided, I think," Lilly went on. "I'm going to go lesbian fulltime. You know, Jill Johnston says that all women are really lesbians at heart, that they only screw guys because of social pressures. I think she's right. I just don't enjoy fucking boys any more."

Lilly shook her head, and her face was serous. "It's your fault, you know. You seduced me when we were just kids. Remember the games we used to play? First date, and first petting, and first eating-out, and all the rest? Pain, it's never been as good for me since. Except when I'm with you. I think I love you. Don't laugh! I mean it!" I wasn't about to laugh. The look on my face was shock. Lilly was getting into this pretty deeply, and it scared me.

And I didn't remember seducing her. Maybe she'd been a proto-dyke at eleven. As I recalled it, she had been the one who took the initiative, persuading me to touch her, to finger her off. Not that I didn't enjoy it. Sex with Lilly was something I looked forward to. It was a change. But she was getting freaky lately, and I almost expected her now to offer me an engagement ring.

"The trouble with you, Lilly," I said, "is that you read too much women's lib stuff. You really believe that we don't need men at all. You're cutting off half the people in the world."

"I don't want half the people in the world, Pamela Crosby. I just want you. All the time."

"If I could fit you into my schedule…" I still hoped I could bring her down with some wisecracks.

"Your schedule. I love you, but you're so promiscuous! Do you really enjoy balling almost any guy who asks you, just because he's a guy and has a cock? That's what you do, Pam, and you know it as well as I do: I mean, nobody's a virgin any more, but you carry it to extremes. And are you really that turned on by getting fucked, or are you trying to find something that none of those guys know how to give you? Isn't that why you let them all bang your box?"

Promiscuous? I didn't think of myself that way. It was an uncomfortable moment. Lilly had never talked to me this way before, and I knew now that she was a hundred per cent serious. She wanted me to make some kind of lesbian pact with her and renounce men for life.

I tried to think about Eric, about how nice it had been fucking with him this afternoon, how neat it had been to pick him up and seduce him, but I couldn't remember what he looked like. And who was the last guy I'd fucked? It was just last week, Tuesday or Wednesday, but who was it? Bob? No, he was the week before last. Oh, it was Karen Whittaker's cousin from out of town. Wasn't it? I couldn't remember what he looked like either.

But I could remember Lilly, remember each and every time she'd ever touched me.

I turned to Lilly, my hand sliding from side to side on her small boobs. They were very pretty, I reminded myself, even though they'd never grown much. The nipples were still as big, as pink, as sensitive, as they'd been that first time I ever saw or touched them. My fingers moved again, into the puff of hair at her armpit, and she smiled. One of her legs slid across me, and the soft little hairs she refused to shave away were ticklish on my skin.

"I don't know," I said finally. "I'll have to think about it. An awful lot. I don't know if I'm ready to do something like that, and I wonder if you are."

She smiled smugly. Outside, the front door slammed and we heard the patter of little feet. Her kid brothers. "Better get decent," Lilly said softly. "It wouldn't do to have you caught messing around twice the same day."

She grabbed her towel and rewrapped it on her body while I pulled up my pants and pulled down my shift. Before I left, she handed me a book entitled Sappho Was a Right-On Woman by a pair of lesbian ladies, and insisted that I read it while I was with Aunt Susan. "And when you come home," she added, "I'll be waiting. Right here. With a horn on for you." We kissed and said good-bye and I had to go. This was some day, all right!

And to make matters worse, that night, when I crawled into bed, I had a visitor. It was Mom, come to have a mother-daughter talk. I recognized it as soon as she started. It was the same one she'd given me when I had my first date, back in seventh grade. All about being very careful, protecting my reputation, not cheapening myself just because some ill-bred boy made demands on me.

I was careful enough. I took my Pill first thing every morning. She didn't know that, and I didn't tell her. But what about the rest? Was I cheapening myself? And what the hell kind of a reputation did I have? Boys were nice enough when they were with me, especially when they knew a little piece was in the offing, but what did they say when I wasn't around?

I'd never given it any thought till that little chat with Lilly, and now, with Mom trying to patch up this afternoon's bad scene, I couldn't think about anything else. Maybe getting caught wasn't so bad after all. Mom had called Aunt Susan and my little vacation was definitely on, so I should be spending the next month in a quiet, sexless environment. I'd have time to think. Maybe I'd cut down on my catting when I got home again. Guys expecting an easy score on me might be in for a big surprise.

And who knew? Maybe I'd read Lilly's book, too. Maybe – just maybe – by the time I got home I, too, would be as confirmed a lesbian as she seemed to be. I thought about that after Mom kissed me good night, and there was a warm moist feeling in the pit of my cunt. Was my body telling me something?

I reached to stroke that moistness, to kindle the sensation creeping upon me, but when I took my fingers away, I just groaned in an undertone. It wasn't lust. The curse had arrived for its monthly visit.