MARIE (2 of 13)

[FRIAR DAVE]

MARIE

(copyright, the author)

CHAPTER TWO

(MARIE02.STY)

The basement was divided into three sections. The main part of it was
sort of a rec room, with an old sofa and some old armchairs and an old
TV and stereo, et cetera. Off to one side was the laundry room, which
contained pretty much what you might expect in a laundry. In the
corner of the laundry room was the cinderblock shower stall. I grabbed
the soap, turned on the overhead light -- it was set up so you
couldn't reach the switch from inside the stall -- checked the floor
of the shower for nasty little multileggers and stepped in for my
shower. I adjusted the spray so it was like needles pounding down on
me, hot and sharp. I stepped right into the middle of it and closed my
eyes and just savored the feel of the water sluicing over my flesh. I
damn near came again just from the sheer, sensual pleasure of it.

After a while I stepped out from under the spray long enough to pour
some Kmart baby shampoo directly onto my head. I worked it into a
thick lather in my thick, dark hair, then stepped back into the spray
and let the water pound the soap out. Then I stepped out of the spay
again and grabbed the big, industrial-size bar of Ivory from the soap
dish. I worked it into a thick lather all over my skin and savored the
slick firmness of my own body. I tried to grab my nipples, but the
soap made my fingers slip off them -- and I did it over and over
again, simply because it felt so good. Naturally, one thing led to
another.

In moments, I was leaning back against the wall with the spray
adjusted to hit my pussy. I had my legs open, and used my fingers to
spread my pussy lips. The spray hit my clitoris, and I shuddered and
shook. I was so close to cumming, it was almost unbearable. I finally
slipped one finger inside my pussy. It was just the slightest bit
uncomfortable -- but the good feeling more than made up for that. I
was right on the verge of cumming when the curtain was pulled back.

Jerry.

"Can I finish that for you?"

I practically dragged him into the shower. He got on his knees and
kissed my tits and sucked my nipples. The hot water was pounding both
of us. He probed my pussy with one finger, and it felt awfully good.

But not good enough.

I pulled his head away from my breasts and stood straight. I reached
for a towel as I stepped out of the stall. My other hand was tugging
his to follow me.

He didn't need a lot of encouragement.

We barely made it into the recreation room. I dropped to my knees and
sucked the head of his hard dick into my mouth. I kept my hands on his
lean 13-year-old hips to restrain his natural impulse to jam the whole
thing into my throat and after a minute or so of that, I kind of
pulled him down next to me and urged him to lay back on the towel.

I straddled his hips and trapped his cock between his belly and my
cunt lips. I stroked along it a few times, more for my pleasure than
his. The underside of his dick, turned upward, dragged over my swollen
little clittie. He pulled me down so my face was against his neck and
my tits were scrunched against his lower chest, I reached around
behind my little butt and held his steel-stiff cock steady while I
slithered backward.

Both of our bodies were wet from the shower, and it was hot and sweaty
in that little recreation room, so we slid against each other. I felt
his dick's head pressing into the furrow of my cunt lips. As soon as
it was settled in place, he hunched his hips up and began pushing it
into me.

His cock wasn't very thick, but I was only 10-and-a-half, and wet as I
was, it was still a tight fit. It went in slowly, very slowly, bit by
bit. My little cunt was so tight that if he hadn't had all that
teenaged rigidity and enthusiasm, it never would have gone in at all.

But he did, and it did.

I loved it.

Feeling his dick slide into me was like having an itch scratched
before you knew it was itchy. His prick was spreading and opening me,
filling a void that somehow hadn't existed until it entered. The
cavity of my cunt was so narrow that I hadn't really imagined it could
be in need of this until it happened. I certainly had never imagined
it could feel so damn good.

Jerry had little in the way of style. He just put his hands over the
hard little mounds of my ass and pressed down while his hips rammed
that stiff, throbbing young cock up, relentlessly up.

I was so little that my pussy lips were stretched tight and my
clitoris was fully exposed -- it might have been anyhow, since it's
always been a bit prominent -- and the feeling of his dick invading me
and my clit being rubbed by my stretched cunt lips and...

Well, it all rolled up together inside of me, and I started cumming.
And I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. My pussy went into spasms, and all
I could do was press down as hard as I could on him and feel his cock
sliding slowly into me, spreading and filling me. I planted my mouth
against his collar bone to stifle my own screams and just gave myself
over to it.

By the time he'd gotten his dick all the way into me -- and it must
have taken a good five or six minutes -- I had already had about a
zillion orgasms. When he finally hit bottom and that scrawny thatch of
pubic hair was pressing against my clit, I was totally lost in my
cumming.

But when he started moving inside me, it was all over. I came so hard
and so long that I was afraid I was passing out. I might have gone
unconscious, in fact, but I wasn't aware of time or space or place.
All I knew was the shattering, shredding pleasure ripping through my
little body. My pussy was tight to begin with, as you'd expect of a
near-virgin cunt, and even tighter, considering how small and young I
was. Add the clenching spasms of my orgasms and--

Well, it only took a couple of minutes of that, and Jerry was cumming,
too. His dick swelled inside me, and then he was throbbing and jerking
in there and groaning about how hot and tight I was and how good it
felt, and we were cumming together.

Again, it seemed like he would never stop cumming, but when he did,
and his dick shriveled -- and even my tight twat couldn't hold him
inside -- enormous quantities of juice poured of me and drenched his
thighs and the towel beneath us.

For a long time, we just lay there with me sprawled and crushing
across his hard young body. My hips kept jerking and rolling as little
aftershock orgasms rocked through me. We were both still moaning and
panting when we heard the car in the driveway.

I lifted my head, and we stared into each other's eyes for a moment.
Then the realization and panic hit us. We were like a pair of wild
mice, scurrying and running. Jerry somehow stuffed himself, all sweaty
and drooling, into a pair of shorts from the clean laundry, and I ran
back into the shower and started it running. By the time Lisa and her
Mom were in the house, I later learned, Jerry was looking through the
fridge, and I was standing under the hot shower, again trying to make
my knees work as the water stung my flesh. Their Mom told him to go
take a shower before he did anything else.

That was great. In the 25 years since then, I've only met a few women
who'd done it that young -- 10-and-a-half -- and none of the others
enjoyed it. For most, it was an unpleasant thing that was done TO
them. I was really lucky to have had so much fun -- lucky and rare.
Part of it was that I had as much control over what was happening as
the guy, and that made a difference. But I'd learned that it could be
lovely and pleasurable -- Oh! So pleasurable! -- and that was a
revelation.

Anyhow, with the exams over for me and the carnival going on, I was
pretty much on my own and at loose ends for a couple of days. Lisa's
exams were still going on, and there were all these other things the
public schools did, so I took advantage of it, and Jerry and I fucked
away three afternoons of the next week. Then Lisa was free and home
too much -- I mean, she was my best friend, but I wasn't about to
confide to her that I was fucking her brother. She was still a
10-year-old, herself, and would've said something to him, even if she
didn't do it out of jealous spite for me.

Then we were well into June, and Lisa's Mom's routine kept her home
most of the time. Jerry and I had less and less opportunity for
fooling around, and he got very interested in this girl his own age.
She had big hooters -- the kind he'd admitted fantasizing about -- and
I was forgotten. What he learned with me wasn't forgotten, though. She
benefited from his practice on me when it came to cunnilingus. Or so I
learned, later.

In the meantime, another carnival was approaching -- the town's, this
time, rather than the church's -- and my civic-minded Mom and Dad
started spending most of their free time at that. It was much the same
story as with the church carnival.

[Sure, I'm a little bitter. I understand now -- I may have understood
then -- the importance of it. For Dad, it was contacts for part-time
work as an electrician. For Mom, it was social contacts, widening the
circle of acquaintances beyond the inbred little crowd at the church
and on the block. I understood some of that; it didn't ease my
resentment.]

So I went to the carnival -- it was only four streets away -- and
there was this really cute guy working one of the hot dog stands. He
was 14, and even though he was cute, he wasn't really popular because
he had a reputation as a -- well, nowadays, we'd call him a "nerd."
His name was Marty. It so happened that Marty and I had a common
interest: amateur radio. To me, it was something mysterious and far
away. To Marty it was very real and --

[What fascinated me about it? The idea of being able to press some
buttons and throw switches and be able to talk with people in far off
and mysterious places. Okay?]

Anyhow, he said he had a rig, and I wanted to see it, so he invited
me to come by his place after he finished his turn in the booth and
he'd show me the works. And I agreed. And he hardly ever stared at my
tits or anything like that, so I figured it was okay; it being
Saturday and all, his folks would be home.

Well, his folks weren't home, just his brother, Phil. Phil was 19 and
home from college. Their parents were over in Port Clinton visiting
someone. But Phil didn't seem interested in anything except this
ballgame on TV -- the Indians and the Tigers; I remember it clearly --
and drinking beer. He just grunted when we came in, didn't even look
at us.

We went up to Marty's room, which was very tidy. I took that as
another good sign. His rig was set up on shelves against one wall. He
powered up, and while we were waiting for the tubes to warm up, he
asked me about school and stuff like that.

When the rig was ready, he invited me to sit in the chair and run the
set. As he got up, I accidentally -- I think -- brushed his arm with
my breasts. His eyes widened, and he stared at my chest as if he'd
just noticed it. I was all sweaty -- that room was hot up there under
the eaves in summer -- and where I'd brushed him, the tee-shirt was
soaked right to my bra. Which wasn't concealing much, because my tits
were still growing, and the bra was still much too small.

[The bra? No, not for support -- not at that age! --but too keep them
from bouncing all over the place.]

My nipples were getting hard -- visibly, right through the bra and
tee-shirt.

I looked up at him -- he was about five-foot-seven and I was still
only four-foot-four -- and he said, simply, "Wow."

Then he blushed and grinned like a nut and gestured for me to sit. And
I realized I was enjoying the way he blushed and the way he seemed a
bit intimidated. I noticed the hard bulge in the front of his shorts,
and I liked the fact that I had done that to him.

I sat down at the rig and followed his instructions, all the time my
nipples hard as rocks and the sweat pouring off me. I asked if he had
a fan or something and he said no, and he was sorry it got so hot up
there and peeled off his shirt. It was soaked, too. He didn't have as
nice a built on him as Jerry, but he was okay.

"Well, that's not fair," I said. "If you can do that -- " And I peeled
off my shirt. It was a helluva lot cooler, not having that hot cotton
plastered to me, and it was a helluva lot hotter, sitting there with
my breasts all shiny and swelling up around the sides and top of that
pathetic bra.

He was staring at them.

"You don't mind, do you?" I asked.

"They're beautiful," he said. "I never saw such big, beautiful breasts
on such a little girl..."

It was sheer flattery, I thought, but: "Thank you."

"Can I -- "

"Touch?"

"If."

"If what?"

"If you promise to be gentle, and if I can touch, too."

He frowned, obviously puzzled. So since I was obviously more
experienced than he was at that stage, I put my hand over the steel-
hard bulge in his shorts.

He jumped as if I'd burned him, blushed even more furiously and then
stepped forward. I squeezed the lump, and he gasped.

"Take it out."

He fumbled at the zipper and finally drew it down. The white Jockey's
underneath were strained by his 14-year-old's rigidity. I unfastened
the waist-snap of his shorts and then pulled the shorts and the briefs
to his knees. His dick sprang up and throbbed right in my face. It was
about six inches long and thoroughly average in every way. His balls
were tight and firm in their wrinkled little sack and looked so
cute--!

I put my hand around his cock and squeezed again. The throbbing
doubled. He groaned softly.

He said, "Now, your turn ..."

I reached around and under with my other hand -- I was always very
limber, almost double-jointed -- and pried open the snap of my bra. It
felt so good to have the pressure off! I shrugged and pulled it off,
releasing his hard young cock just long enough to remove the straps.

He reached down with one finger and rested just the tip against my
left nipple. He pressed carefully. My breasts were so firm that it
hardly gave at all. He put his whole hand on my tit and squeezed
carefully, and the sensation sent a rush right through my body to my
pussy. I had learned how pleasurable it could be to fuck, and I was
turned on by the prospect of doing it again.

With him standing next to the chair, his dick was almost level with my
nose. I pulled him close and bent his prick down slightly. I turned in
the chair to face him and rubbed the silky flesh of the red, throbbing
glans against my right nipple.

"You're gonna make me shoot my stuff," he gasped.

"Wouldn't you like that?"

"It'll get all over everything!"

"Can't have that." I kept rubbing and squeezing, and when he started
to spasm, I raised his dick, brought my mouth down and sucked the head
into my mouth. His juice was very thick and a little vinegary. And
there was a lot of it. I knew how to suck and swallow -- I'd had some
practice with Jerry, remember -- and how use my tongue a little. I
kept my lips locked around his shaft and kept jacking him with my
hand. I think he came for about a half a minute. I had to swallow
twice. His hips kept flailing away even after he stopped shooting, and
his dick hardly lost any of its stiffness.

I realized then that I had my free hand between my legs and I was
squeezing and rubbing my pussy. I was getting very, very turned on.
The fact that he wasn't pressing me or forcing me, that I felt in
control of the situation -- that had a lot to do with it; I felt
comfortable and unthreatened.

I let go of his prick and pushed his shorts to his ankles. He stepped
out of them and I stood and stripped. My white cotton panties were
absolutely soaked.

"Can I just -- look at you for a minute?"

"Look all you want, honey." I caught sight of my reflection in the
mirror on the closet door. Let me tell you, I was damn foxy looking!
My complexion is almost swarthy, and ample time sunbathing had
darkened it to a kind of smoldering shade. My hair was long and
straight in those days, down to my shoulders, and my face was round
and had a lot of baby fat, then. I had good legs -- not great -- but
they were nicely shaped and in proportion to my hips. My tits were
very firm, of course, and looked big, and my nipples were hard as
pebbles. My belly was flat, and my waist and hips were exactly right
for a healthy almost-11-year-old. I had no hair on my pussy yet, so I
was all sleek and shiny with perspiration and all lithe, with hints of
the curves to come. I got turned on even more just looking at myself.

I raised my arms over my head and slowly turned in front of him. When
I was facing him again, he just stood there with his mouth hanging
open. But he was standing there naked and with a rock-hard erection,
too.

"I want you to do something for me," I told him, sidling closer.

"Anything," he breathed.

"I'll let you do it to -- with me, but first I want you to kiss me ...
down there."

He frowned. "You mean -- down there?"

This sounded familiar, but I knew how to deal with it, now. I stepped
closer and let my tits press against his stomach. His cock was jabbing
my stomach.

"Yes."

"Is it clean?"

I nodded and began turning back and forth, slowly, so my sweat-slicked
breasts were rubbing against him.

"I don't know how -- "

"Do what I tell you, and you'll learn. You may even enjoy it. Besides,
I'll suck you again."

He seemed dubious, but I grabbed his dick and pulled him with me
toward the narrow bed. I sat on the bed, still holding his prick, and
pulled him close to me. I leaned forward to kiss his cock. Then I let
go of his dick and laid back, my legs a little apart.

"Start by kissing my tits," I told him and boy, was he eager! He was
trembling when he crawled on the bed and bent his head down to my
tits. He kissed them all over. His breath was hot, even on my warm
flesh. He kissed them, pressing his lips against the firm curves. He
kissed my nipples as gentle as a fly landing and then got a little
adventurous and sucked one lightly into his mouth. I couldn't stop my
gasp of pleasure or the little shiver that went through my hips. I
took one of his hands and put it on the breast he wasn't kissing at
the moment. I led his thumb and forefinger to my nipple.

"Now, very gently, pinch it -- ah!" The sensation was maddening. He
was a quick study and very attentive and quickly got the knack of
drawing the pads of his thumb and forefinger up from the base, barely
grazing the hard little spike until they reached the tip -- and then
tugging lightly on it. It didn't take too much of that before my hips
were rolling and my legs were opened.

I pushed his head down over me, and he kissed and licked and nibbled
his way down past my ribcage, down over my flat 10-and-a-half-year-old
belly and abdomen, down to where the fever was. I swear, I could feel
my pussy pulsing with eagerness.

I held his head in both hands and directed his mouth right there, to
the top of my little mound. When his lips pressed my clit, I came.
Damn! I just lay there and shuddered with the pleasure of it. By now
my legs wee wide open and my hips wee rolling around and rubbing my
cunt all over his face. He didn't seem to mind the taste too much!

I tasted blood and realized I had bit my lip, trying to stifle any
noise. I let go of his head, and he looked up and said, "Are you
alright? Did I hurt you?"

"Honey, I am totally right and you did it right! Lick me a little,
will you?"

I didn't have to ask twice. He plunged in eagerly, lapping away at my
bald little cunt like a puppy with water. He even tried pushing his
tongue inside a couple of times, but I was too tight. At one point, he
pulled my legs up and over his back, so my thighs were on his
shoulders and my vagina was aimed right up into his mouth.

He was holding my little butt. His hands almost covered my cheeks. He
pulled my cunt up to his mouth and gobbled. And let me tell you, it
didn't take him long to find the most important place. He got the tip
of his tongue on my clitoris -- it felt like it was swollen as a big
as a marble -- and played with it and I was lost.

I reached back and pulled a corner of the bedspread up to stuff in my
mouth, and then all Hell broke loose. I came and came and came. It was
like some kind of seizure. Even though he later denied it, I could
tell that the pressure of my thighs on his ears had hurt, because his
ears were all red.

I finally had to drag his head away from my little pussy; I simply
couldn't take any more. It was almost hurting from that direct
manipulation.

I pulled him up on that skinny bed next to me and rolled him onto his
back and sprawled on top of him. He was gasping, and I was panting and
we were both absolutely covered with perspiration, which made us all
slippery against each other.

"Have you ever been inside a girl before?" I asked him. He shook his
head. I rolled on top of him and straddled his waist, kneeling. I
reached back and found his cock, hard and hot, throbbing just behind
me. I leaned back a bit so I could feel it press into the upper
separation of my ass cheeks. He groaned a little bit.

I leaned forward onto him and gave him a big wet kiss right on the
lips, and we tongued each other a bit. His hands had come up to stroke
and caress my back and slide down to squeeze my ass.

"You just lay there a minute, and I'll get this under way," I told
him. I knelt up and moved back, then crouched over him. His dick was
standing up so stiffly, it was at maybe a 45-degree angle to his
stomach. I grabbed his prick in one hand and lowered myself till it
was against my cunt.

My pussy was all red and swollen, and I was incredibly wet. Still, it
was a good thing he was so hard, or it never would have gone into me.
As it was, the fit was so snug that when maybe a third of him was
inside me, I stopped and tried to relax.

"I don't think I can hold it," he groaned.

Well, I wanted him to hold it, because it felt so good going in -- but
I wanted him to feel as good as he made me feel, so I said, "Honey,
you just relax and let it shoot."

He sighed, and I pushed down and back, thrusting more and more of his
dick into me and he started cumming. His hands pulled my ass down, and
I had almost all of him in me before he stopped shooting. I could feel
his spasms, but I was already so wet I didn't feel his jism in me.

But he stayed mostly hard, and when I finally got the last of his dick
in me, I started sliding around. I let myself fall forward onto him,
so my titties were pressed into his upper stomach and I just let my
hips go, rolling and rocking and sliding up and down.

In no time at all he was hard as a rock inside me again, and I was
starting to cum again. Unlike the orgasms when he was eating me, this
one built and built and built, like a wave coming in, and when it
started, I could feel my little cunt close even more around him. He
was jerking his hips up, thrusting into me crazily. I sat up and back
and let all 64 pounds of me press my cunt down hard onto his stiff
dick. I glanced down, past the barely jiggling mounds of my hard tits
and the swollen-to-bursting points of my nipples, and I could see his
dick stretching into my little pussy, my cunt lips pulled wide to
accommodate his shaft.

I just kept cumming and cumming, and then he whispered that he was
going to cum again. I grabbed my nipples and squeezed and ground my
cunny down till my clit was mashed into the little pubic mat around
the base of his cock. I felt his dick flex as he creamed inside me and
each throb sent me deeper into my orgasm.

I toppled forward onto him as he finished and lay there with his dick,
finally shriveling, still clamped in my puss. I thought I would pass
out; he had.

I pulled myself off him. My cunt held onto his limp prick and
stretched it out till it popped free and flopped back onto his belly.
A thick mixture of juices, his and mine, seeped out of my tight slit.
His dingus looked cute now, all curled up and shriveled like a little
boy's.

I put my panties back on, mostly to keep all that stuff from draining
down my legs, then my shorts and my bra. My breasts were still swollen
and very tender. My tee-shirt was too drenched -- so, for that matter,
was the bed -- so I rummaged through Marty's dresser and took one of
his. It was way too big, which was just fine by me.

I let myself out of his room and walked slowly downstairs. Phil was
still in front of the TV, now with a sandwich and potato chips in
front of him, along with the beer. The game was still on.

"Who's winning?"

"Indians." For the first time he looked at me. "Who're you?"

I told him. He shook his head and looked back at the game. "Funny. I
thought you were eleven or twelve."

"I'll be eleven in a couple of months."

He looked back at me, staring quite openly at my figure. "Damn. You
have one hell of a figure for a kid your age."

"You don't have to sound sad about it."

"I wish you were old enough for -- never mind." He laughed.

"For what?"

This time he gave me an appraising look. "Where's Marty?"

"Upstairs. I asked him to show me his ham station. You still didn't
tell me what you wish I was old enough for."

"Nothing a kid like you should be hearing." He turned his gaze firmly
back on the TV. "I'll be seeing you around, Marie."

"Be seein' ya'," I said and let myself out of the house.

So I had made this discovery, see? I could find and be close to and
even have sex with nice men, and I could turn men on and still have
them treat me right, and it could be fun and sweet and pleasurable and
not hateful or hurtful or scary. All the way home, five blocks on the
East Side of Toledo on a hot summer day, boys would stare at me and
some men, too, and most of them would look away when they saw my face
and realized how young I was, and it didn't scare me. That was
important: It didn't scare me.

And since it could be fun and didn't scare me and felt awful nice, I
determined to do a lot more of it.

When I set my mind to something, I do it. This was no exception. I had
just been warming up, so to speak.

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