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Grown- Up Girls, Part Two
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
GROWN-UP GIRLS
by Some Sort of Dog
Part II
Chapter 5:- Trudy's Tale
The girls had drifted off and gone back in the pool. We persuaded Amy
to come for a swim as well, and in no time we were all shrieking and
splashing around in the cool water. Amy still couldn't take in the
sight of the youngsters, with their outrageous development. She kept
staring at them, and eventually she came and sat next to me on the
edge of the pool, dangling our toes in the water.
"It's funny, you know", she said, "I shouldn't feel this way, but
those kids with their big titties makes me feel all gooey inside!
Don't get me wrong, you being their mother and all, but you know what
I mean?"
"I know exactly what you mean. They look like little women, yet
they're just kids. Coming down here this morning, they were asking
every five minutes, 'are we nearly there, yet?' And they have to put
up with a lot of shit from the other girls at school. Especially young
Suzanne."
"I can imagine", Amy said. "I was nothing like the size of them at
their age, yet the other girls made my life misery when these things
started to grow. Trouble was, I know they were jealous, yet I hated my
tits so much, I couldn't see why the others *should* be jealous, you
know? They were welcome to them, if they wanted them!"
"It's doing them good, anyway, getting off school early. Look at them,
I haven't seen them so relaxed and happy for months."
They had all leapt out of the pool and streamed off across the garden
in a weaving line at top speed. It all went quiet as they ran off into
the distance. From the house, there was the sound of a distant crash.
"What was that?" I said.
"Don't know, Maisie must have dropped the dinner in the kitchen."
**********
Clarrie was in trouble.
Maisie came into the kitchen to see how the teenager was progressing
with the sandwiches for teatime. She found the girl had hardly
started, she had only just started buttering the bread.
"Have you taken the salmon out of the fridge, Clarrie?" Maisie asked.
"Not yet, I'm still doing the butter."
"Funny, I thought I could smell it! Wait a minute, girl! That's *you*!
What have you been up to? Even when Sir Roger's away, you still manage
to stink of sex!"
Clarrie blushed and stammered, but Maisie stepped closer and whisked
the girl's skirt up.
"You filthy slut! No panties again. And juice running down your fat
legs! I suppose you've been playing with that bloody vibrator of your
again. Get out! Have a shower and get your big whore's arsehole back
down here in ten minutes! Move!"
Clarrie fled, sobbing, her huge tits bouncing as she scampered out of
the kitchen and up the back stairs to the servants' bathroom.
At least, when she presented herself to Maisie fifteen minutes later,
she was a little fresher, although her bottom was still much the same
size as before.
"Show me!" Maisie insisted.
Clarrie pulled up the hem of her skirt to reveal relatively clean
white panties.
"Right, get on with those sandwiches. A right good spanking's what you
deserve, girl."
Clarrie smiled to herself. That was the nicest thing Maisie had said
to her all day.
**********
"Tanya, honey, come and sit next to your Grandma." Tanya grinned at
Grandma Trudy and sat beside her at the table. I perched on the bench
on her other side. Our children gathered round. "Help yourselves, now,
don't stand around letting these sandwiches get cold. Salmon and
cucumber? Here you are, Suzanne, can't you reach?" Suzanne was
struggling to reach across the table, her breasts were dangerously
close to destroying a most impressive cream cake. Grandma Trudy took
the girl's plate and loaded it up with food. "That enough? You're a
growing girl, you know!"
Suzanne knew. We all knew.
The kids tucked in with a vengeance, clearing all the sandwiches in
record time, and making massive inroads into the cakes.
"They seem to have quite an appetite, must be all this fresh air and
exercise", said Tanya, shaking her head as Suzanne wolfed an enormous
hunk of cream cake. There was chocolate smeared all over her face and
a dollop of cream had fallen into her cleavage. Pansy reached across
and scooped it out.
"That's mine", squealed the aggrieved girl, and made a grab for the
cream. Too late, it was already disappearing into Pansy's mouth.
Suzanne stuffed the last of her cake into her mouth and went in search
of more.
"You'll burst, child!" Tanya wailed in despair. "You must think we
never feed them at home, Gran."
"I was beginning to wonder, honey. Never mind, they'll get enough
activity in the next few weeks. They'll burn it all up."
As the children finally drifted away from the table, still squabbling
good-naturedly; Tanya sat forward, resting her mountainous bust on the
table with a little sigh. Grandma Trudy watched her with a smile.
"That's right, Tanya, take the weight off your back. I know just how
it feels, carrying that lot around. You're a lot bigger than me, now,
but when I was just a kid, like I told you, mine were pretty huge."
"Maybe you can explain to the kids, sometime, Gran. Show them your old
photos, perhaps", suggested Tanya. "They'd appreciate knowing that
they're not just freaks."
"Freaks, hey? Is that what they're calling them? Well, isn't it true?
I was a freak, sure. So are you two, Tanya especially. But it's just
Mother Nature having her bit of fun. There's nothing wrong with us,
and nothing wrong with Suzanne, either. But I will; tomorrow, I'll
have a word with them."
We sat in silence for a while. Mum and Amy were strolling in the
distance, beyond the pool. The children had started their ball game
again. Grandma Trudy took a deep breath. "You know, earlier, when I
said I didn't want to talk about ... when I was a kid? I think I ought
to tell you. It's hurtful to tell it, but you ought to know."
"Gran, not if it's painful. Not now. Later, perhaps", I tried to tell
her.
"It had better be now, while I'm in the mood! Listen!"
She put her arms out as if to embrace the two of us.
"I was six, when my titties started to grow. How about you?"
"Gosh, I was nearly nine", said Tanya.
"Thirteen!" I laughed.
"How about the kids?"
"Suzanne was the earliest, she wasn't even six when hers started
coming", I said, and Grandma Trudy shook her head in disbelief.
"Like I say, I was six. And they just ballooned, you know? Eight, nine
years old, and they were a C cup. Then when I started the fourth
grade, you know what that is?" We both nodded, not wanting to
interrupt her, and she continued. "The day I started in the fourth
grade, I was a forty-four! That was August, September. By Christmas, I
was up to forty-seven inches."
She laughed. "And I was still growing. At least, by then, I was ten
years old! And they just got bigger and bigger. But you know, I
remembered nothing of this. My brother, Tim, told me everything, and
gradually it all came back. Everything. How when I got to my eleventh
birthday, our mother measured me, and I was fifty-six inches round the
bust!"
"I can laugh at it now, but I was so huge, I could hardly walk, never
mind run around. I had to have my bras hand-made. It meant a bus-ride
to see the bra-lady. Every time I got too big for my bra, and that was
pretty often, I can tell you. But then I went to the doctor, and he
sent me away to another doctor, in Chicago, and they looked at me, and
they said there's nothing wrong. 'Perfectly normal, Mrs Morris', they
told Mom! Oh, yeah?"
"That's what they said to me, too", said Tanya, "when *I* was eleven."
"They told me to go home and wait till I was nineteen, then they could
make them smaller. Well, no way could we wait that long. Mom told them
I'd need a wheelbarrow for them long before that! Anyways, I had to
stop going to school because of the rude comments from the other kids.
And the teachers, too, they were just as bad. Well, we lived on a
farm, and once I got away from that school, I worked on the farm, and
I did my schooling at home. Of course, these things kept right on
growing. I don't know how big they ended up; we only had a five-foot
tape at home! I know that I had to be measured for a new blouse, it
was before I was twelve, during the summer, and I was sixty-three
inches then! But they didn't stop growing."
Tanya's mouth was open as she gazed at Grandma Trudy. I realised, at
last, she had found another woman who had been as big as her when she
was younger. "Go on", she whispered, realising that Gran had stopped.
"It gets difficult now, honey. Be patient with me. I went back to
school. Eighteen months I'd been away, and my boobs was twice as big
as when I'd left. But then, I used to finish my homework and my
chores, and I used to get away from the farm. There was this little
place that only I knew about, and I used to go and sit there all on my
own. Played with myself, I can tell you, now ..."
I looked at Tanya, and she looked at me, embarrassed for Grandma
Trudy.
"... then there was this man. This Luke O'Hara. I can still remember
his name. He wasn't away at the war, like the real men. I dunno how he
got away with it. But he ... he took me, down there in my secret
little hiding place. And he raped me ..."
Her voice tailed off. For a long time we all sat in silence. Grandma
Trudy fumbled around, looking for her handkerchief. Tanya pulled hers
out, pressed it into her hand.
"Thank you, honey. That was it, really. I stopped eating, Tim says.
And in next to no time, I was skinny as a rake. You'd never believe
it. We had to leave the farm, and we moved away. Quite suddenly. I
found out why, later. Much later."
Grandma Trudy sighed and shivered. "It's turned quite chilly", she
said, with an effort. "Could we continue tomorrow, would you mind?
Hey, I got past the worst part. The rest of it is easy-peasy. Let's
round up this family of yours!"
**********
Still grounded, and still under house arrest in his room, Davie heard
the family being rounded up and taken to their rooms on the floor
below. He wondered who the woman had been, the topless woman by the
pool. For that matter, who had been the little girl. She must have
been fifteen or more, with titties like hers. If they were here for a
while, maybe he'd get to know her a bit better. Just as he had come to
know Clarrie a lot better this afternoon.
Sweat broke out on his forehead at the memory. He licked his lips and
could still taste Clarrie on them. He gently grasped his cock and it
hardened in his hand. Within seconds, he was jerking and thrusting,
his bed rocking violently, the headboard banging against the wall.
He stopped at last, looking stupidly at the little pool of milky-white
juice on the bedspread. As he searched for a tissue, the thought came
to him that if Clarrie had been here, she would have lapped it up for
him.
**********
Clarrie wasn't there, but she knew exactly what Davie was doing. She
was helping the girls to get their bags unpacked in their rooms.
Suzanne and Pansy were sharing the room directly beneath Davie's, with
Victoria next door on her own.
"What's that noise?" asked Suzanne, looking fearfully up at the
ceiling as Davie's bed went into orbit above their heads.
"Is it a ghost?" whimpered Pansy.
"That's just the plumbing", said Clarrie, "it's an old house. It's not
haunted, don't worry." Clarrie watched Suzanne closely. The kid's tits
were enormous, she thought. If Davie gets a look at her, I'll be out.
O-U-T! "I'll leave you now, to get ready for bed. If you need
anything, the bathroom's that way, down the landing."
"Where do *you* sleep, Clarrie?" Pansy asked.
"Up there." Clarrie jerked her thumb. "Above Victoria's room. So no
noise, understand. I have to be up early in the morning, to collect
the eggs."
"Can we help you collect the eggs, Clarrie?" said Suzanne.
"You think you can get up at half past five?" the teenager asked.
"Okay. Not tomorrow, though. We've got weeks and weeks ..."
"... and weeks and weeks ..." said Pansy.
"... and weeks!" finished Suzanne. "Night-night, Clarrie!"
"Night, sweetheart. Night, Pansy." The girls turned their faces up to
kiss Clarrie, then snuggled down under their soft duvets.
"I like Clarrie", said Pansy, after the door had closed.
"So do I, said Suzanne. She tastes nice!"
**********
By then, Clarrie was already pushing open Davie's door and creeping
into his room. The boy started in alarm, screwing up a tissue and
stuffing it into the waste bin. "You scared me, creeping in like
that!" he accused.
"Not as much as if I'd crept in ten minutes ago, you horny little
bugger. You were shaking the whole house with your wanking!"
Davie went scarlet, and lowered his head, not daring to look Clarrie
in the face. He felt her soft hand on his back again, and she took his
shoulder and slowly turned his face up to hers. "C'mere, sexy, I've
been thinking of you ever since this afternoon!" And she planted her
soft lips on his mouth. The kiss went on for several minutes, by which
time Davie was rock hard and panting for Clarrie.
Clarrie was almost foaming with her desire to be fucked, properly,
this time. This was going to be lesson number two for young Davie. She
whispered to him.
"Go to the bathroom, do whatever you do at bedtime, then come back
here and wait for me. I've got a few things to do, but I'll be here at
nine-thirty on the dot. Don't start without me, okay?" and she gave a
gentle squeeze of his mighty throbbing cock that nearly sent him over
the edge.
He could still taste Clarrie's tongue. Surely it didn't still taste of
cum after all these hours.
Chapter 6:- Things That Go Bonk In The Night
"Where is she", Davie muttered. The clock read nine-thirty-five. In
the darkened room, the red numerals blinked at him. She wasn't coming
back, she'd been winding him up. He ought to have known. She wasn't
interested in a kid of fourteen, not a great big grown-up woman like
Clarrie. His erection died of disappointment, and was replaced by a
lump in his throat. Finally, he turned over and lay on his side in the
dusk.
"Move over, shithead, you can't have the whole bed to yourself!"
He must have dropped off to sleep. She was here. Clarrie! Her big cold
body squeezed against his in the dark, her chilly thigh forcing itself
into the warmth of his bed.
"Lie still, darling, don't move. I'll soon warm up. I nearly got
spotted on the way here. Your Mum!"
Davie sat up like a Jack-in-the-box, disturbing the bed covers. "She
never saw you ...?"
"Don't be daft, boy! I know how to hide myself around this house of a
night-time. Right, lie down again, I want a cuddle first, before we do
anything else!"
How was it, Davie thought, that even the most ordinary things that
Clarrie said sounded so sexy!
She crept closer, pressing herself against him, rolling him away from
her so she was pressing against his back. Their bodies fitted together
like spoons. She was wearing a nightie, but it wasn't a very long one,
he could feel the coarse, springy mat of her hair pressing against his
naked bottom. Her plump arms twined around him, one above, one snaking
beneath his body until her little fingers clutched at his bare chest
and squashed him against her enormous titties. Now he could feel them,
they seemed to cover his entire back. He tried to turn over, but she
was far too strong for him.
"Lie still", she ordered. Her upper hand, the one not trapped beneath
his body, began to feel its way down his chest, his stomach, to the
fuzz at the root of his cock. Then it made its way back up again. He
felt her fingernails as she gripped his little boy-tits, and squeezed.
Her tongue washed the back of his neck, then sought his ear. It went
inside, like an exploring worm. Cold, wet and noisy.
Meanwhile, her hand had strayed downwards again. Then her other hand
was on the move, despite his weight. It cupped his buttock, briefly,
then wandered on, between his butt cheeks, and down to cup his balls
from behind. She nipped his earlobe, tongued his ear again. He was
nearly screaming when, with surprising strength, she gripped his
shoulder and flipped him on to his back, and in the same movement,
straddled him.
For the second time that day, her hair dangled across his face and
chest. This time, though, Clarrie was naked, and her immense breasts
dangled down, too, the nipples rubbing maddeningly in patterns on his
soft skin. He reached out for them, and this time she made no effort
to stop him, but sighed deeply as his hand found her left breast.
It was far too big to capture in one hand. Even with both, he could
hardly control the thing, and it wobbled around like a family sized
jelly released from a mould. She leaned slightly forward and directed
the massive breast toward his mouth.
"Oh, Clarrie! Clarrie!" he sighed, and his lips found the enormous
nipple.
"Ooooh, Dav-eee! You cheeky baby! Is baby thirsty, then?" and she gave
him the other nipple as well. Talk about tit heaven. Davie suddenly
had more breast pressed against his face than could have been provided
by any four of the girls in his class at school.
Slowly, she lowered her bottom on to his stomach. He could feel her
concentrating hard as she wiggled her fat rump around on him, he felt
her practised little hand reach round and guide his erect boyhood for
a second or so, then she squatted firmly down on him. He was ready to
scream in pain as the girl squashed his willie, but it never happened.
By a miracle, it had gone inside her. And it was warm and wet. Things
were happening in there, too. All sorts of muscles were gripping him.
It felt weird, and marvellous. Clarrie laughed her musical little
ripple, and began a slow up and down movement on him. At each stroke,
she seemed to go higher, so that he was afraid he would slip out of
her altogether and she would break it as she sat down again, but
somehow, she seemed to know just how far to go each time. Faster, now,
and he began to buck against her, raising his hips to meet Clarrie on
her way down, then faster still, until - nearly there - she stopped
and his hips were off the bed, reaching up to her for what seemed like
minutes until he CAME, and she sobbed in joy and delight with him and
lowered herself tenderly on to his stomach as he endlessly pumped the
last of his sperm into her lovely hole.
"Fucking Hell, Davie, where in fuck's name did you learn to screw like
that?" she breathed into his ear.
"Oh, Carrie, darling!" and they both dissolved into giggles, laughing
in each other's mouths as they lay together, then kissing endlessly
for hours and hours, until he caught sight of the clock. Twenty past
ten, it said.
"Is that all the time is?" he asked, "or has that clock stopped?"
"What's the fuckin' time matter?" she moaned, looking over her
shoulder. "No, that's right, what's up?"
"Nothing, I thought we'd been doing it for hours."
"Oh, no, lover. We've got another SEVEN hours before I have to get up!
You just lie still for a bit and get your strength back. This next
one's on Auntie Clarrie. Darkness descended as Clarrie's dripping
hairy snatch covered his face. This time, he felt no trace of panic,
only warmth and security. And the most wonderful scent in the world.
Gallons of it. Hot and cold running Clarrie.
**********
They did it in an amazing number of different ways, with the one
proviso that Clarrie was always on top. At five thirty, as daylight
crept in through the drawn curtains, Clarrie kissed him and slipped
away to the chicken runs.
Davie lay in a puddle of their combined juices, utterly exhausted. All
through the long summer night, the buxom teenager had given him a sex
lesson more comprehensive and wide-reaching than most males get in
their first five sexually active years. And she had skipped out of the
bedroom as frisky as a puppy. He had heard her whistling as she
trotted across the yard. Twenty minutes later, she came back for a
quickie, tearing off her clothes, her hair damp with the morning dew.
She had to arouse him again so that she could impale her frothing
cooze on his battle-weary stalk.
"Come on, lover. Fourteen years old, and having trouble keeping it up
already. If you weren't such a stud, I'd be turning you in for a newer
model."
So it was that when Maisie came into her son's room at seven o'clock,
she found the boy out stone cold. The window was wide open, Clarrie
had done that before she had left, but the atmosphere in the little
room was still quite noticeably sexy. "You can come out today", Maisie
told her son, "but you've got to behave. Those little girls are young
and innocent, and they don't want to be dealing with young tearaways
like you, right?"
She gave another sniff as she left the room. If her Davie had been
five years older, she thought, she'd have suspected that the slut
Clarrie had been in his bed.
But young Clarrie had been up for hours, bright as a new pin, washed
and showered, and totally ready for whatever the day might bring. And,
with any luck at all, the next night.
**********
Breakfast was served on the patio, where the morning sunshine had
already burned off the last traces of mist. It was going to be another
perfect day. Amy had decided to have a few days off work, and had
phoned to invite our Mum to her flat for a break away from the kids.
"Go for it, Mum", I'd told her, "We'll be all right here keeping Gran
company. We'll see you at the weekend."
I poured orange juice into the girls' glasses and they glugged away
happily.
"There was a ghost last night", said Pansy, suddenly feeling brave
enough to mention the fact.
Suzanne spluttered into her drink. "Silly! It's not a ghost. Mummy.
It's not a ghost, Clarrie told us. She said it's the plumbing."
Clarrie had appeared at that very moment, with a big silver dish of
bacon and eggs. She nearly dropped the lot.
"I never heard anything, did you, Tanya?" I looked at my sister.
"Nothing, but I slept like a log. What sort of noise was it, Suze?"
"Like a banging. It started slow, and got faster and faster."
"Then it would stop. And it would listen. And then it would start up
again after a little while. It kept waiting until we were nearly
asleep then it would start again!"
Clarrie put the dish down on the table with a bang. I couldn't see her
face, as her back was towards me, but her hand seemed to be shaking as
she served bacon and eggs to the three girls.
"Where did the noise come from, girls?" I asked.
"Straight up above our heads, like on the roof", said Pansy, excited
at the reaction she was getting.
Grandma Trudy had just come out on to the patio and had heard the last
few words. "What's the matter, Pansy", she asked, "you been hearing
noises in the night?"
"Ghosts on the roof!" insisted Pansy, proudly.
"Well, not on the roof, honey, there are another bunch of rooms above
yours. Did you hear it, Victoria?"
"Not a thing", said Victoria scornfully. "But if there were any ghosts
around, those two would hear them."
"Well, it's Davie's room above yours, kids. Why don't we ask him if he
heard anything?"
Clarrie whisked away the dish, still half full. With trembling hands
she started back in the direction of the kitchen. "Gettin' cold, I'll
fetch some more ...!" she cried as she fled.
"Who's Davie", I asked Grandma Trudy.
"Maisie's boy. He's fourteen. You won't have seen him yet, he's been
confined to his room for letting down the tyres on the policeman's
bike."
Fourteen, I thought. Probably having a wank. But not all night,
surely. The girls always did exaggerate everything. If I've told them
once, I've told them a million times.
"Where's that Clarrie got to?" Grandma Trudy sounded exasperated. "You
haven't had your eggs and bacon yet ..."
"She rushed off in a bit of a hurry", I said. "She's a country girl,
is she scared of ghosts?"
"She's scared of something", Grandma Trudy said, rather ominously. "I
think Maisie ought to have a word or two with her." She thought for a
moment. "Or maybe *I* ought to!"
That was something else about these country girls, I thought. If
Clarrie was going to wear such a short skirt, I would have expected
her to have been wearing panties.
**********
Davie was going down the back stairs when he met Clarrie going the
other way. "Oh, hello!" he said awkwardly.
The girl gave him a scared little glance. "Don't say anything about
last night. Not to nobody, okay?"
Davie reddened. "*I* wasn't going to tell anyone."
"No, you'd better not neither. I reckon they heard us. The kids are
talking about being kept awake by ghosts."
"Ghosts?" Davie went pale. "Is this place haunted, then?"
"Course not, prat-face! That was us they could hear, banging away.
Christ, if your Mum hears, I'll be right in the shit ...!"
"YOU'LL be in the shit?"
"We both will. But she can't sack you, you're her flesh and blood. I
could be out of a job, and it's all your fault!" And Clarrie flounced
away up the stairs.
"My fau ...?" Davie watched her disappear, then turned and trudged
down to the kitchen. How can it be my fault, he thought, *she* was
fucking *me*!
And she's forgotten to put her knickers on again.
Chapter 7:- Davie Gets Lucky Again
Davie wandered into the kitchen, where his mother kissed him and
served up his breakfast. "Careful, lovey, that plate's red hot", she
warned him. "You woke up then", she said. "Spark out, you was, at
seven when I come in your room. What was you up to last night, then?"
"Nothing", snapped Davie, too quickly. "I was asleep. Out cold, like
you said. I must have been tired."
"Well, get that lot down you. I got a couple of jobs for you to do,
then you're going to meet the lady's daughter and her family. You can
show the kids around later this afternoon. That'll be nice, won't it?"
He looked sharply at his mother to see if she was trying to be
sarcastic. Her face was innocent and beaming. He applied himself to
his breakfast. His balls had been crushed; his willie felt raw. If
this was what love was all about, he wondered why people were always
singing songs about it.
"Now, where's that bloody girl? CLARRIE? Never there when you want
her, that idle bitch. Davie, love, go and find her, will you? I'll put
that back on the stove 'til you get back ..."
Davie crept off upstairs, and knocked softly on Clarrie's door.
"Who's that?"
"S'me. Davie!"
"You can't come in here, not after last night. I'll get shot."
"It's all right. Mum sent me. She needs you to help in the kitchen.
Honest."
The door creaked open an inch or two. "Come in, quick."
He slipped inside, looking around. There were pop-star posters on all
the walls. The bed had pink sheets and lacy pillowcases. A huge blue
bra lay on the bed. Clarrie was naked, and looked somehow smaller. She
threw her arms around his neck and squashed herself against him. Her
lips were hot and urgent on his face, and her tongue met his.
He felt himself coming to attention; although the inside of his shorts
felt like they were made of sandpaper! "Ouch!" he croaked as Clarrie
thrust her hips forward.
"S'matter?" she asked, pausing briefly to tear her lips away from his.
He took the opportunity to make a massive rearrangement of his
clothing in the groin area. "Ooooh, lover! Don't do that, you'll drive
me wild! And you know what that'll mean, don't you?" Already, the
girl's hand was inside his pants, and he hadn't felt a thing as she
had unzipped him. Shit, she'd got his willie out, and all in about
five seconds. Bloody hell, it was *inside* her!
And it was. Clarrie backed him against the door and rode his aching
tool until he felt a rushing, building sensation in his ears and his
balls. Then he was pumping into her again, and she was whimpering and
moaning softly in his ear, rubbing her massive titties against his
chest, the nipples like the last joint of his thumbs. Christ!
She unplugged herself, and obligingly put him away, zipping him up and
giving his crotch a friendly little pat, as if it were a good dog.
"There!" she said. "Now, get out of here while I get dressed. We can't
have you looking at me and getting all excited, can we?"
And suddenly, he was outside her door. He went downstairs again.
"You took your time, didn't you?" said Maisie, stirring something in a
bowl. "Well, is she coming?"
"What? Oh, yes. She was in the toilet. She's washing her hands." He
took his breakfast plate off the stove. The fried egg was curling up
at the edges. "I'm not all that hungry", he told her, and put it down
again. He could feel a chilly dampness in his underwear as juice
continued to seep out."
"Come here and give us a kiss, then get out and tidy the woodshed.
We've got a load of logs coming in, and you'll have to make room for
them." He kissed his mother on the cheek and slipped out of the back
door, tugging his pants to move the wet bit away from his willie.
Yuck, he thought.
Maisie sniffed the air after he had gone, wondering if she was really
smelling what she thought she was. Then Clarrie came into the kitchen.
"You feelin' better, girl?"
"What? What you mean?" Clarrie was bright red.
"Come here, Clarrie!" she said quietly. The girl crept closer, knowing
what was coming. Maisie raised the maid's skirt.
Fortunately, Clarrie had put her panties on. Unfortunately, a generous
quantity of Davie's juices were still inside her at the time.
"Go and change your knickers, young lady! And have a shower. You're
going up before the lady!"
**********
Davie walked in front, the girls capered along behind, chattering
amongst themselves. Every time they tried to catch up with him, he
walked faster. He had to, if they got ahead of him they'd see he had a
monster hard-on. It was his Mum's fault, sending him out here with
three incredibly beautiful girls like this! He'd become erect straight
away, as soon as he had seen Pansy. He got even harder when he was
introduced to Victoria. And when he saw Suzanne, he was on the verge
of creaming his pants.
It was strange, he thought. He lived in a house liberally blessed with
large-breasted women. Even if they were all rather ancient, they were
fun to look at. Even the lady, she made him feel excited sometimes,
and she must be a hundred years old. Then there was her Amy, he
enjoyed watching her whenever she came over to visit, she *really*
wobbled. And there was Clarrie, of course. His erection became even
harder, thinking of Clarrie.
But now, all these others had come along. It was if he was being
punished for liking big titties, by having thousands of them
everywhere he looked. Even little Pansy had boobs as big as any of the
girls in his class at school, while her sister was miles bigger. And
their Mum, too!
And as if that wasn't enough, there was that Suzanne. He began to walk
stiff-legged as things were now getting well out of hand inside his
pants. And then there was Suzanne's Mum, surely she must have the
biggest boobs in the whole world. Would Suzanne one day be as big as
her? Oh, shit, yes please!
It was a hard life, being a teenage tit-freak.
"Slow down, Davie", called Victoria, "Suzanne and Daniel can't keep
up."
He turned round. Suzanne and her little cousin were thirty yards
behind, the little girl trying to run and hold her big boobs with one
hand, while Daniel's feet wouldn't carry him fast enough. He was
panting and sobbing. Davie stopped. There was a grassy bank down here,
leading to a stream. More of a little river, really. He turned off and
went down to the edge of the water. Pansy and Victoria sat down next
to him in relief, while the laggards caught up and joined them.
Suzanne was puffing and blowing, her great big thingies going up and
down under her T-shirt. Davie sat forward to hide his erection which
was already making a big wet patch on the front of his jeans. Not
quickly enough, he realised, Victoria had already noticed. If she had
been a dog, her ears would have pricked up.
This, she realised, was what the other girls all talked about the
whole time at school. A hard, was it? Hard-up? She tried to see it but
Davie was sitting all hunched up. She moved a little and found she
could see a bit better. She stared at it, and Davie practically
screwed himself up into a ball.
I can't sit like this, he thought. It's not getting any smaller, and
she's not going to go away. Disguising his movements as a coughing
fit, he heaved and struggled to move the bloody thing so it was
pointing straight upwards, out of the way. The position brought some
relief, but Victoria's eyes were suddenly almost popping out of her
head.
"What ... what's THAT?" she gasped.
"What's what?" Davie said in a voice of doom, and chanced a quick look
down. Oh dear, oh dear, oh shit! No wonder it felt cold all of a
sudden. His cock had poked out of the top of his jeans. Victoria moved
right next to him and reached out her little hand.
"Gosh, that's nice", she gurgled. May I touch it?"
"NO!" he shouted, too late. Victoria's fingers were playing gently
across the tip of it, causing the strange thing to leap out of the
way.
"Aaagh, it's alive!" she squealed. "And it's wet." She sniffed her
fingers cautiously, then licked them. A little smile came over her
face as she realised it tasted quite nice. She went back for second
helpings.
"No, you mustn't!" Davie cried again, but again too late. The others
had gathered round.
"That's his willie", Pansy informed them, "Same as Daniel's." She
studied it for a few seconds. "Well, it's not quite the same."
Suzanne didn't have a little brother to look at, and she'd never seen
one of these things before, so she leaned across to get a look at
close range. Her breast sploshed against Davie's knee, but she didn't
seem to notice. He certainly did. So did his willie, which began to
leap around, forcing itself further and further into the open air.
Suzanne bent closer and put her tongue out. Before Davie could stop
her, she had licked the very end of it.
"It tastes just like Clarrie!" she announced joyously, and Davie gave
a cry and buried his head in both hands. Again he felt the little
girl's tongue touch him, then he was engulfed in a warm wetness,
hearing the voices of the girls echoing in his head.
"Oh, Suze, that's GROSS!"
"Yucky! She's EATING it!"
"Mmnnng mmnph!"
He tried to warn her, but the words wouldn't come. What did come was
his most violent ejaculation since the one that took place at around
ten-fifteen the previous night.
Suzanne, taken completely by surprise, swallowed a mouthful before she
could get the thing free. The rest of it went in half a dozen spurts
all over the front of her bulging T-shirt.
"What's all that stuff?" she screamed.
"I tried to tell you!" Davie shouted, but you wouldn't stop sucking
me.
"You should have stopped. You've wee-weed on my shirt!" Suzanne tried
to pull the wet garment away from her skin, but it clung to her.
"You'd better take that off", Victoria said. "We can rinse it in the
stream. It will soon dry in the sun."
Davie's second dream came true. Or had the first one been a nightmare?
Suzanne tugged the T-shirt off over her head, and sat there in her
bra. From where he sat, it looked almost as big as Clarrie's. Yet
Suzanne couldn't have been any more than thirteen. After all, she
talked like a baby sometimes.
The girl kneeled by the water and dunked the shirt in it, sluicing it
around to remove the clinging gooey slime. It was the strangest
wee-wee she'd ever seen. It seemed to float away in strings. At last,
as the others watched critically, she held it up at arms length. "How
does that loooooo ..."
Girls built like Suzanne are not designed to kneel on river banks
holding wet T-shirts at arms-length in front of them.
The splash was resounding. Part of the reason for that was that Davie
had reached out to save her, but had overbalanced himself. He followed
Suzanne into the water. There was a brief struggle as they clutched at
each other. Pansy and Victoria screamed. Daniel burst into tears.
Suzanne and Davie clambered to their feet - the water only came up to
their thighs - and hauled themselves on to the bank.
"It's c-c-c-c-cold!" shivered Suzanne. Davie said nothing, but stood
dripping like a drowned rat.
Victoria again acted first. "Take it off", she told Suzanne, pulling
at her shorts, "everything, pants and bra. All off! You too", she said
to Davie, "strip it all off ..."
It was all they *could* do. They scrambled out of their soaking
clothes, handing them one item at a time to Victoria to wring out.
Pansy draped them on a bush in the hot sun. The last two items were
Suzanne's bra and Davie's underpants. The two shivering youngsters
looked at each other with considerable interest.
"Go and run around", Victoria told them, shooing them before her like
big pink geese. "Go ON!"
And they did. They made a curiously arousing sight, Suzanne's breasts
bouncing and flying around in all directions, while Davie's prong
refused to lie down and die. If anything, it seemed to become even
more erect as he followed Suzanne's tight little buttocks around on
the warm grass. At last, panting, he stopped and sprawled in an untidy
heap. Suzanne flopped down beside him, wriggling like a big pink puppy
and giggling in excitement.
"Gosh, Davie! I hope nobody's watching us!"
"No, I don't think so", he puffed. Last night had taken it out of him.
"That's good, then!" she whispered, and threw her arms around his
neck. "Gimme a cuddle!"
Enormous spongy boobs squashed against his bare chest. Much firmer
than Clarrie's.
Oh, bloody hell, here we go again.
**********
They all walked home slowly. Davie was deep in thought. After his
discovery of sex last night, he realised that he would have to look at
girls in a different way from now on. He looked at the three who
walked along with him now. Suzanne was walking on his left, her hip
brushing softly against his leg. He could feel the warmth of her every
time it happened. After a while, she began pressing herself harder and
harder against his thigh, forcing him over to the right, where he
bumped against Victoria. Suzanne's skimpy shorts were nicely filled by
her girlish bottom, but not nearly as much as her T-shirt was filled
by her womanish titties.
And Victoria, on the other side, not touching him, except when Suzanne
made him collide with her scorching hot leg. Her eyes never left his
face. Not as old as Suzanne, obviously, her titties weren't as big,
but she behaved much older. While Suzanne and he had been charging
around, trying to get themselves dried off, Victoria had sat back
watching them, resting on her elbows and laughing, and her nipples had
been sticking out through her top like spikes.
Meanwhile, Pansy and Daniel had been rolling in the grass, completely
absorbed in their own game. Once the excitement of Davie and Suzanne
falling in the river was over, the two little ones lost interest in
them altogether and started playing. Funny thing, even Pansy had nice
chubby boobs, but she was just a kid. The two of them were prancing on
ahead like dogs, occasionally glancing back to see that the others
were still following.
Davie studied his two female admirers. What would they be like to do
it with? He tried to imagine it, as it had been with Clarrie, but the
images wouldn't form in his head. Clarrie was a woman, but these two,
despite their mature appearance, were still only girls. Never mind, he
could still try, no harm in that. He knew he was good at it, Clarrie
had told him last night. Dozens of times. What was the word? Stud,
that was it. Davie the Stud. I wonder which one I will get to fuck
first.
Chapter 8- The Truth Will Out
"Had a nice walk, dear?" Tanya held her arms out to Suzanne as the
little group approached.
Daniel came up to me, hopping up and down in excitement. "Mummy,
Mummy, 'Zanne fell in the river!"
"And Davie, they *both* fell in", reported Pansy.
"What?" Tanya felt her little girl's shorts. They were still damp.
"When did this happen?"
"Ages ago, Mum, we dried our clothes on a bush, it's all right",
Suzanne reassured her. "Me and Davie."
"Wait a minute. You and Davie? You took your wet things off and dried
them on a bush?"
"Of course, like I said. They're dry, now."
Tanya looked at me and shook her head. "Off with it. Now! Get up to
your room and change into something dry." Clarrie had appeared on the
terrace, hearing all the excited noises. She had also come out to see
if Davie was around. Tanya spoke to her. "Clarrie would you go with
Suzanne, please, and make sure she changes everything. She fell in the
river with Davie!"
Clarrie had already held out her hand to Suzanne when Tanya finished
her sentence. "With Davie?" Clarrie looked at the boy, who was edging
away in the direction of the house. "C'mon, Suzanne", the teenager
said, "And YOU, TOO, Davie!" she planted a hand on his shoulder and
steered him away indoors.
"How did they dry their clothes, Victoria", I asked.
"I made them take everything off, and we hung their things on a bush.
They soon dried."
"What about Suzanne and Davie, how did *they* get dry, you couldn't
hang them on a bush."
"Course not, stupid! They ran around for a bit, then they had a
cuddle. They soon got warmed up"
"I bet they did", Tanya growled.
Grandma Trudy came out. "What's all this, I saw Clarrie in the
kitchen, and she said those two had fallen in the river. Is that
true?"
"Yes", Tanya said, "they've gone off to change."
"But how did it happen?"
Pansy was thinking, trying to remember the sequence of events. She
always likes to get things right before she explains anything. "I
remember", she said at last.
"Go on, then, darling, what happened?"
"Well, we walked down to the river and sat down. And Davie had his
willie out ..."
"He did WHAT?" Tanya and Grandma Trudy screamed in chorus.
"He got his willie out", Pansy repeated, gratified by the reaction.
"And Suzanne was licking it! Yuck! I told her to take it out of her
mouth, but she wouldn't listen to me. Then she did, she took it out,
and some wet stuff came out and went on her T-shirt." The audience was
silent and open-mouthed by now. "So she took her top off and washed it
in the river. She still had her bra on, so it was all right ..."
"Oh, good, that's all right then", Tanya said, faintly.
"... but then she fell in, and when Davie tried to grab her, he fell
in, too. But it wasn't very deep." She sounded genuinely disappointed.
"They were standing up in the water, and it only came up to Davie's
willie. Then they got out and we made them take their clothes off and
I hung them on the bush. That's all."
That was all, as my daughter said. "Let's hear their side of it before
we go ape-shit, Sis", I told her, but I was feeling sick inside.
"Okay", said Tanya dully. "I'll ask Suze after tea."
"I'll have a word with Davie", said Grandma Trudy. "He'll talk to me."
**********
"Wait there, you!" Davie stopped outside Suzanne's bedroom door as if
he had been turned to a pillar of salt. Clarrie followed the girl into
her room and watched as she undressed. She peeled off her T-shirt and
Clarrie took it from her hand as Suzanne peeled her shorts off,
hopping precariously on one leg. Even inside her bra, everything was
bouncing.
Clarrie waited for the girl to hand over her shorts. The damp T-shirt
seemed to have some stains on the front. She sniffed at them
suspiciously, but the whole thing smelled only of river water. Suzanne
watched her.
"I washed it all off", she said, helpfully.
"Washed what all off?"
"The stuff that came out of Davie's thingie. That's why I fell in, I
was licking his thingie 'cos it tasted nice - it tasted a bit like you
- and it came out of my mouth when it was jerking about so much, and a
load of stuff went all over my shirt. It will wash off, won't it. 'Cos
I like this shirt!"
"Oh, it will come off, all right, now that I know what it is", said
Clarrie, grimly. "Take the rest of your things off, and I'll wash
them. Quick, I need to see Davie gets his things off as well.
Especially his jeans, they're still quite damp."
"There you are, Clarrie", Suzanne put her panties on top of the bra in
Clarrie's hands. "Will my bra be dry by the morning? Only my other
one's a bit too tight."
I bet it is, thought Clarrie, stunned by the size of the child's
breasts, now inches away from her. Davie would have enjoyed those as
well. "Hurry up and get dressed, sweetheart, then go and have your
tea. I'll be down presently."
"Okay! said Suzanne, happily, rummaging through her top drawer.
"NOW then!" Clarrie took Davie's arm and frog-marched him along the
landing to the back stairs. "Keep going!" she ordered as the boy
stumbled. Along the passage and into his bedroom. The door slammed and
she dumped him on his bed.
"Get undressed, now! What have you been up to with that kid?"
"Me, nothing! Nothing happened, Clarrie, honest."
"And your jeans, too. Oh, so you didn't fall in the river, then?"
"Well, yeah ... but ..."
"And those shorts! And so you didn't take all your clothes off to get
them dry?"
"Well, yeah ..."
"And your socks. And you didn't run around stark, bollock naked with
that little sex-bomb?"
Sex-bomb? "Well, I s'pose so, but ..."
"And she didn't fall in the river in the first place because she was
trying to wash the CUM-STAINS OFF HER T-SHIRT?"
"Oh!" said Davie in a tiny voice.
"AFTER SHE WAS SUCKING YOU OFF?"
No reply.
"Oh, Davie! What am I going to do with you? One night of love-making
from me, and you think it's okay to try and get the pants off an
eight-year-old kid!"
"Eight? EIGHT years old? Suzanne?"
"She's eight and a half! That's all she is."
"But she's ..." He used his hands to describe Suzanne.
"Yes, she is, isn't she?" Clarrie pushed him on to his back. "She's
really big, isn't she, Davie?"
Clarrie unfastened the buttons of her blouse.
"She's HUGE, isn't she, Davie?"
Clarrie dropped the blouse on the floor and reached around behind her
back to unfasten her bra.
"But she's not as HUGE as me, is she, Davie?"
Not quite, he thought. She lowered herself on to him.
"And she can't do THIS, can she, Davie?"
Not yet, he thought, surrendering himself to his fate.
**********
The knock on the door stopped them in their tracks. Clarrie froze in
mid-thrust.
"You there, Davie?"
The lady! Clarrie put both her hands in her mouth.
"Davie? May I come in, honey?"
"Errrrm ...!"
The door opened. Trudy closed it behind her as soon as she took in the
scene. Clarrie hadn't moved. Davie couldn't move, anyway.
Trudy, feeling faint, walked over to the window and stood looking out.
"Would you like to get up, Clarrie, please!" she said without turning
round.
The wanton girl slowly detached herself, while Trudy stared out at the
sunlit scene. A cloud drifted across the garden. Clarrie picked up her
blouse and held it in front of herself. "Get dressed, honey!" said
Trudy, not unkindly, which made it even worse for the young girl.
Sobbing now, she pulled the blouse on, then bent to pick up her skirt.
She stepped into it, then picked up her abandoned bra. There appeared
to be no panties.
Trudy turned at last. "Now go to your bedroom and wait for me there,
please." Biting her lip, tears flooding down her cheeks, Clarrie left
the room. Davie watched her go, then looked at Trudy. "I only came to
talk about you and young Suzanne falling in the river", she said. "I
hardly expected to find you ... to find this going on! How long have
you and Clarrie been ...?"
"Last night, ma'am", Davie muttered.
"In your room? In here?" Trudy put two and two together. Ghosts, she
thought, managing not to giggle. "What happened this afternoon? Down
by the river?"
"Nothing, ma'am, nothing, honest! We got wet and took our clothes off,
that's all. I didn't f..."
"I know that, Davie. I believe you. But Suzanne's only *eight* years
old, what made you think of showing her your ... yourself." She
pointed to the offending part, now mercifully no longer erect. She
realised straight away that she hadn't made the right point. He
shouldn't have been showing his cock to *any* girls, eight or
twenty-eight.
Davie tried to tell her. "I'd got a hard-on, ma'am. It sort of slipped
out of my pants, and the girls wanted to touch it. They hadn't seen
one before. Honestly, ma'am!"
Sheesh. Crazy story. Crazy enough to be true.
"Now listen, Davie. I'm not going to forbid you to see Clarrie. You'd
only find a way, somehow. Clarrie's a very grown-up and a VERY sexy
girl, and she's awfully experienced for her age. It will surely end in
tears for you, but there's no point in telling you that either. But if
I catch you trying ANYTHING with little Suzanne, you are in trouble,
that is TROUBLE, Davie, is that clear?"
That was clear. As soon as Trudy had gone, he rolled over on to his
belly. His pillow smelled of Clarrie. The whole bed smelled of
Clarrie. Girls were nothing but trouble, he decided. End in tears? It
had only *started* last night, and here came the tears already.
**********
"Let me make it crystal clear, Clarrie. I am not firing you. Sir Roger
will have to do that, if he can. Perhaps I will have to tell him what
I have seen, when he comes back?"
Clarrie went as white as a sheet.
"I thought so. I already told Davie, I'm not going to stop you two
having sex. You'd only go somewhere else and do it. You, especially,
Clarrie, because you can't go a day without it. I also told him it
will end in tears. For him, that is. You'll throw him away without a
second thought when Sir Roger comes back! Just remember, Clarrie, I
know everything. Everything!"
Clarrie crumpled on her bed, and dissolved into shuddering tears.
Trudy watched her for a moment, about to leave.
I never could do the right thing and leave well alone, she thought,
sitting down next to the girl on the bed and putting an arm round her.
Clarrie tensed, then relaxed, her head buried in Trudy's shoulder, her
massive breasts, loose inside her creased blouse, mashing against
Trudy's far larger ones. The older woman hugged the teenager tight,
rocking her like a baby until the girl's sobs died away.
"You take the rest of the night off, honey. Go have a shower. I guess
you need one." She chucked the girl under the chin and wiped a tear
away with a finger. "And if you simply *can't* leave Davie alone, try
to do it quietly, okay?"
Trudy gathered up the bundle of clothes she had collected from Davie's
room, and went quietly downstairs.
**********
"Where's Clarrie, Nana Trudy?" asked Suzanne.
"She said she's not feeling too good, she's going to bed", said Trudy.
"But she was going to tuck us in and kiss us goodnight", complained
Pansy. "It's not fair!"
"If poor Clarrie's not well, you wouldn't want to make her get up,
would you?" I asked her.
"Well, could Davie come and say goodnight then?" Suzanne asked,
brightly. "Can he, Mummy?"
Tanya gulped. "We'll have to see about that, Suze. He might have other
things he has to do."
"I'll ask Maisie. Can I ask Maisie for Davie to come into our bedroom
tonight, Mummy?" Pansy was already getting up. Oh, God!
"*I'll* come and kiss you goodnight, kids", Grandma Trudy said, "but
only if you're going to be good girls. I'll tell you a story, too.
I'll bet Davie wouldn't do that."
That clinched it.
But there were still problems being stored up for tomorrow.
At least, the ghosts were quiet that night. Perhaps they were still
there, but at least, they kept quiet.
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