Chapter 3
Out on the sidewalk, heading for home, Stacy slowed down to a jog. But after jogging
for a couple of blocks she started walking, no longer in all that much of a hurry, even
wondering if she should go back. She should’ve at least said goodbye to Betty. The
uninhibited girl would understand why she’d taken off, though and she could always
explain or apologize or some damn thing the next day at school.
It was a little over a half a mile to her home. It wasn’t all that late, but it wouldn’t’ve
made any difference if it’d been in the early morning hours. Except for the lack of sleep,
of course. She had her own key and could come and go just about as she pleased. She
could handle her mother, drunk, drinking, or sober, and her father was always telling
her to have all of the fun she could while she was young enough to enjoy things to the
fullest.
She didn’t think he would approve of the offbeat fun she’d enjoyed that evening,
though! The peeking at the swappers had been great fun, too. That Betty! Fucking
herself with a pony’s cock! Pee-wee’s cock was just about as big as a large horse’s,
though. But she wouldn’t think about that! Hell, she might get nutty enough – or hot
enough – to breeze out to the barn and do some experimenting with the five beautiful
horses out there!
The big house was dark. Deciding that her parents were out someplace, as they never
went to bed that early, Stacy thought about Betty’s parents. They were a very attractive
couple and the father was always smiling at her, flirting, really, and she wasn’t surprised
that they swapped. Betty’s mother was something like Betty, a sexy-looking chick, and
Betty was very broadminded to accept the truth about her parents without even telling
them that she knew. She’d at least tell them how terrible she thought they were, Stacy
thought. Not that her mother and father would do such a thing!
There was a combination cook and housekeeper, but she didn’t sleep in. Stacy locked
the front door behind her, then checked in the living room to make sure that her
mother hadn’t passed out on a couch – or on the carpet. Sometimes her father went
out in the evening alone, but Stacy didn’t bother to check the bedroom her parents
used to see if they or her mother had gone to bed early.
She hurried upstairs to her room, closed and locked the door, and turned the light on.
She couldn’t remember the last time her mother or her father had been up to her room,
as she had her own alarm clock, but she didn’t want to take any chances on being
caught doing what she just had to do.
Stacy pulled the shades down over the two windows. There weren’t any dwellings close
by, but there was always the chance that somebody could be spying with a pair of
binoculars. She didn’t like the idea that she might be watched, even if she had just
engaged in and enjoyed voyeurism for the first time.
While stripping out of her clothes, Stacy decided that she wouldn’t bother to get her
collection of pictures. They were hidden under some clothes in a bureau drawer, and
she’d spent many enjoyable hours looking at the vivid sex acts depicted in the
brochures put out by various mail-order houses.
Her father was on many mailing lists, apparently, because he received many envelopes
through the mail with “sexually oriented ad” printed on them. She’d seen him open
such envelopes, then, after glancing at the contents, tear them into small pieces and toss
them into the waste paper basket. She’d spent hours putting the brochures back
together like a jigsaw puzzle until she’d decided that he wouldn’t miss the majority of
such erotic advertisements if she simply beat him to them. She let him receive enough
so that he wouldn’t get wise to what she was doing and she still got a kick out of going
through the waste paper basket in his study.
Stacy had read where so-called authorities stated that females weren’t supposed to get
turned on by observing pictures and reading about sexual activities, and had decided
that she was the exception that proved the rule. Because she enjoyed looking at and
reading such erotic material even when she didn’t follow through with a blissful
masturbating session.
Going into the adjoining bathroom to answer a different call of nature as soon as she
was naked, Stacy soon came out and paused before a full-length mirror. She didn’t
think that it was a true case of narcissism just because she kept checking on the
development of her body. She’d been doing it since she’d been a small girl.
She certainly didn’t hate her body, but she didn’t really love it, either although, she did
sometimes feel that certain parts of it were somehow detached from her real self, her
mind, her brain. She was always getting what she was sure some people might think
were crazy ideas, but she figured that basically she was just as rational as the average
person.
She was a natural blonde. She had blue eyes and she’d heard many remarks about them
and her features being beautiful. Her handsome father, for one, had told her that many
times. She was tall and slender, her ass was full and firm, and her legs were long and
shapely. Her tits were about medium-sized, round and firm, and riding high on her
chest. All in all she was pleased with her appearance, naked or dressed, and she knew
that it was her own fault that she was seldom asked for a date. She was cool and aloof
around boys, outwardly, anyway, and that was because she was afraid she’d really go
all-out if she allowed more than a few mild kisses.
Turning from the mirror, leaving the overhead light on, Stacy went over and stretched
out on the bed on her back. She closed her eyes and began fondling her thrusting
breasts. The nipples were small and pointed, much smaller than Betty’s, and they were
very sensitive because of the many times they’d been stimulated.
They became erect immediately and she rolled each hard, stiff spike between a thumb
and forefinger. Delightful little sensations of pleasure rippled back and forth between
them and her cunt, and she let the erotic scenes she’d witnessed that evening flash
through her mind.
She started with Betty fucking the pony’s long cock and worked backward. She
remembered most of what Betty had said about the cousin, what they’d done, and again
thought about Betty’s father. Betty had actually seen her father’s cock! About eight
inches, she’d said. And Betty had seen it going in and out of a woman’s cunt. Betty had
seen her mother being fucked, too!
Stacy trailed her hands down along her slowly squirming body, parted her legs, and
caressed her sleek inner thighs. The foursome action had really been wildly exciting.
The men tonguing the women’s cunts, the women sucking the men’s cocks, the women
going down on each other, the men fucking the women in their pussies and in their
assholes – all had made the many pictures she’d seen pale in comparison. The fact that
the four had been married swappers had made it all the more exciting – and still did.
And to think that Betty’s mother and father were in another part of that house sexing it
up, swapping, sucking, fucking, maybe even involved in group sex!
Stacy moved the fingers of both hands higher, running the very ends of her fingers
through the silky pubic hairs, squirming her ass against the mattress as she anticipated
the thrilling pleasure soon to be hers. She gradually increased the contact of her fingers
on the outer cuntal lips, parting the curly blonde hairs, then gently rubbing the inner
lips, and just as gently playing with the entrance of her vagina itself.
She slowly massaged the inner lips and the entire area around her clitoris. That
sensitive organ was erect, long since having left the hood that hid it in its quiescent
state, and the stimulation by her fingers produced a friction between the hood and the
clitoris that was totally arousing.
Again thinking of the way Betty had bounced and bucked on the end of the pony’s stiff
cock, Stacy slowly shoved the middle finger on her right hand deep into her palpitating
pussy. She began finger-fucking herself, all of the scenes she’d observed seeming to blur
together in her feverish mind, and the sexual stimulation produced a series of changes
in almost every part of her body.
Her heart beat faster, her pulse quickened, her blood pressure rose, there was an
increased flow of blood to her cunt. At the same time there was a heightening of
nervous tension that affected her entire body. She moaned and tossed on the bed,
flailing her legs, gasping, moving with the pronging finger, clamping down on the digit
with her inner cunt muscles.
Stacy let out a little cry as an orgasm gripped her body. She tingled all over as wave
after wave of blissful pleasure spread throughout her entire being. And she thought of
the pony’s sperm overflowing Betty’s clinging cunt as she suddenly went limp and left
her finger buried in her own twitching and juicy cunt.
Recovering within a couple of minutes, Stacy still wasn’t satisfied. But she removed her
finger from her succulent twat, swung from the bed, and went into the bathroom. She
took a shower, gave herself a brisk rubdown, and brushed her teeth. Back in the
bedroom, she sat at the dressing table and gave her long blonde hair the usual one
hundred strokes with the hair brush.
She set the alarm clock, turned the light out, remained naked, and crawled under the
top sheet on the bed. She turned over on her side and tried to make her mind go blank,
the way she usually managed to go to sleep right away.
But the mental pictures of the many erotic sights she’d so recently observed wouldn’t go
away. She finally turned over on her back and began fondling her breasts. The nipples
got stiff just as soon as she touched them. Knowing that she should get to sleep as soon
as possible, she only stimulated the hard tips for a few seconds before sliding her hands
on down to her quivering cunt.
She slipped a finger into the hot hole and slowly moved it in and out of the moist and
clinging flesh. Again she thought of cocks and cunts and the jism that’d spurted out of
the long hose cock. Soon she was moving wantonly, drifting out and away from herself
– caring for nothing except what was about to happen, thrilling as it did happen again
and again and again…
Stacy’s father usually dropped her off at school on the way to his office. He was a stock
broker, but he also owned a great deal of rental property. He was well liked by just
about everybody, Stacy knew, and she had guilty feelings at times because she liked him
so much.
She’d read where it wasn’t unusual for a girl to have a kind of crush on her father,
especially when very young, but she felt that at sixteen it was time that she got foolish
– and wicked – thoughts out of her mind. Not that her handsome father had ever
given her any real reason for her to be attracted to him in a physical way.
They’d been buddies ever since she could remember, and she knew that he’d always
wanted a son, but he didn’t actually treat her like a boy. He was proud of her as a girl,
and showed it in many ways, but he never put his hands on her or anything like that.
He did compliment her on her figure quite often when they were swimming in the
pool, but he’d never made any wise cracks during the years she’d been filling out and
losing her baby fat.
He was forty, and her mother was the same age, but they both looked much younger.
He was tall and had broad shoulders and a slim waist. He looked great in swim trunks
and what she’d heard called a “basket” was quite big. There wasn’t any doubt about
him being very well-endowed between his muscular legs – his body wasn’t very hairy.
He had blond hair and blue eyes.
Her mother hadn’t been cheated in the looks department, either. She was also tall and
had a very nice shape. Her hair and eyes were brown. Stacy liked her mother, but not
as much as she did her father. Her mother had always been a little cool toward her, but
she didn’t think it was because she and her father were so close. Her mother was a little
strange, really, and she’d stopped giving much thought to that fact.
Stacy didn’t see Betty until the lunch hour. They usually ate lunch together in the
school cafeteria. She worried all morning, not sure what she should say or how she
should act after seeing Betty having sex with the pony, but she needn’t have worried.
Betty just laughed when she saw her and asked how she’d relieved her tension.
“With my finger, as usual,” Stacy said, smiling, glad that what’d happened hadn’t made
it difficult for them to talk to each other. “I’m sorry that I hauled tail like that, Betty,
but after watching the swappers and then you with the pony – well, I just couldn’t take
any more.”
“That’s okay,” Betty said. “I understand and I’m just glad that you don’t seem to be
disgusted with me. You aren’t, are you?”
“No,” Stacy said. “As I said before, what you do is your own business, Betty, and I just
wish that I had the nerve to let myself go like you can. In some ways, anyhow! I’m not
sure that I could ever do anything like that with any kind of an animal.”
“I know how you can really prove that you still like me no matter what I did or do,
Stacy. How about double dating with me tonight? I’ll get a couple of guys and we’ll go
to a drive-in movie.”
Stacy hesitated, then said, “All right. Who will you get for me? I don’t want some rough
boy who’ll paw me instead of watching the movie.”
“Let me surprise you,” Betty said. “I’ll get an older guy. One around eighteen.
Somebody with enough sense to treat a girl only as she wants to be treated. Is that all
right?”
“I guess so,” Stacy said. “Yes.”
Stacy couldn’t keep her mind on her schoolwork that afternoon. She’d seen many boys
hanging around Betty, and knew that the sexy girl dated many different guys, but she
kept trying to guess which one might be her date that evening. She’d had very few dates
in her life; she could almost count the times she’d even gone to a school dance with a
fellow, and she was nervous and excited at the same time at the thought of double
dating with Betty.
She figured that Betty would at least do some hot necking and she didn’t want to freeze
up and sit there like a bump on a log or some damn thing. Maybe she’d let her date at
least cop some feels and maybe she’d even go further than that. If she liked him, of
course.
Stacy also had trouble keeping her mind on her studies because of thinking about the
exciting events of the night before. She’d masturbated herself to sleep, actually, and
now she was just as sexy-hot as ever. It was a good thing that she wasn’t like a boy, she
thought. At least she didn’t have to worry about her excitement showing in the
classroom. She’d seen boys get erections and ask to be excused to go to the rest room.
She’d always figured that they’d gone to masturbate. Or jack-off, as she knew it was
usually called.
While thinking along those lines, Stacy decided that she’d do something that she’d
never done before. She’d often gotten as hot as hell during school hours, but she’d
always managed to wait until she got home. She wondered if she was becoming some
kind of a sex nut, but that didn’t keep her from raising her hand and getting excused.
There wasn’t anybody else in the rest room. Stacy went all the way to the back and
entered a stall. She slipped the lock bar into place and sat down on the toilet with the
cover down. She was wearing a short, tight skirt, but she didn’t think she dared take it
off.
By spreading her legs she did manage to get her hand to her panty crotch. The panties
were very tight and she decided to take them off when she had difficulty getting her
finger between the brief garment and her inner thigh. She placed them on a handy
hook and sat back down. She wasn’t wearing stockings. She wished that she had time to
play with her breasts, her already erect nipples, but she knew that she couldn’t be gone
from the classroom longer than a few minutes without taking a chance on being
questioned.
She made sure that the hairs were parted back from her moist cuntal lips. A few times
in the past she’d gotten careless in her haste to give herself satisfaction and a hair had
entered with her finger. The hair had scratched the tender tissues and it’d been quite
painful afterward.
Shoving a finger into her wet cunt, Stacy probed deep, clamping her inner muscles
around the invader, hunching forward until her ass was on the very edge of the seat.
Slowly finger-fucking herself, thrilling to the delightful sensations, she thought about
how wonderful it’d just have to feel to have a hard prick sliding in and out of her
tingling twat. Maybe she’d finally find the nerve to give it a try that very night!
She moved her slippery finger higher and flipped her erect clit. Maybe her date would
use his tongue on her if she allowed him to. That’d undoubtedly feel great, super, and
the fellows Betty dated probably performed cunnilingus without any qualms at all. A
date would just about insist upon fucking her if he went that far, though, and by diddly
damn she just might let him!
Betty had admitted to letting females as well as males go down on her. It was almost a
sure thing that she sucked cocks, but did she also assume the aggressive role in lesbian
sex? Maybe Betty would go down on her!
Stacy gritted her teeth to keep from moaning. She didn’t think anybody had entered the
rest room, but there wasn’t any way that she could be positive of that without getting
up and looking. It’d be embarrassing as hell to get caught frigging herself. Nobody
could see her in the stall, though – except her feet and legs – and it’d just look as if she
were taking a crap.
She’d stopped the movement of her finger while balanced right on the brink of an
orgasm. She resumed her finger-fucking, probing deep, at the same time making
contact with her stiffened clitoris. That passion-button seemed to be vibrating like crazy
– and she closed her eyes and hunched wildly as the blissful spasms began.
It took her a couple of minutes to recover. She started to wipe her finger on some toilet
tissue. Looking at the wet digit, she wondered how her juices would taste. It wasn’t the
first time she’d been curious, but something about the fact that she’d seen both males
and females lapping a cunt caused her to impulsively lift her glistening finger to her
mouth.
The faint odor renewed her excitement. Feeling very daring, she jabbed the tip of her
tongue against her rapidly drying finger. Unable to really taste anything that way, she
licked some of the juice off. The vaginal fluids tasted both sweet and salty. Not bad at
all, she thought, surprised that she didn’t feel depraved for tasting her juices. She didn’t
think the experience was unique with her, though, and it wasn’t like getting the fluids
from another girl in her mouth.
Wiping her finger and her cuntal lips with tissue, Stacy flushed the toilet and put her
panties on. She wasn’t really satisfied, and after seeing all the action the night before
she didn’t think she’d ever really be satisfied from masturbating again.
Leaving the stall, and seeing that nobody had entered, or if they had that they’d left, she
quickly washed her hands at one of the wash basins. She made it back to the classroom
and her desk without comment from the young female teacher, so she knew that she
hadn’t been gone too long.
The rest of the day dragged, but she managed to do her usual excellent work, and was
even complimented by her history teacher for an essay she’d written on the Civil War.
Stacy usually rode a schoolbus home. Betty was waiting for her with two boys. Or
young men. Because they were both eighteen, Stacy knew, from seeing their names in
the paper having to do with their exploits on the football field.
Betty introduced them as Phil and Al, but Stacy knew that their full names were Phil
Townsend and Al Stewart. They were both good-looking, both muscular, and Phil had
light-brown hair and eyes, while Al had dark hair and eyes.
It turned out that Al was to be Stacy’s date that evening. Phil had a car, a late-model
Chevy, and Betty said that the guys were going to take them home. Stacy sat in the
back with Al and managed to keep up her share of the conversation with him, which
was limited, and he didn’t sit all that close or try to get fresh with word or deed.
Betty sat close to Phil as he drove, and they carried on an animated conversation in
whispers. Stacy sensed that they were talking about her part of the time, just as she
sensed that Betty had told Al that she hadn’t been around much and to take it easy.
Stacy was dropped off at her house first and she promised to be ready at seven-thirty.
She went for a swim in the pool before dinner and ended up eating alone. Her father
called and said that he’d be late because of business and her mother had been drinking
too much to even go to the table.
The cook-housekeeper served the usual good meal and Stacy didn’t bother to apologize
for her mother. She did a little homework, told her mother that she was going to visit
Betty when it was time to go, and went out and stood on the sidewalk to wait.
Her father drove up before Betty and the two boys arrived. He stopped and she told
him where she was going.
“That’s great, Stacy. You should go out and have fun while you’re young. I’m glad
you’ve finally decided to date. Your mother and I have worried a great deal about you
not seeming to like boys, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know,” Stacy said. “And I wouldn’t say that I’ve ever disliked boys. It’s
just that I’ve been more interested in things other than dating, I guess. Like horseback
riding, jumping, and swimming, for instance.”
“Maybe I’ve monopolized too much of your time, Stacy. Is that the right word?
Anyway, have a good time this evening and I’d better get on to the house and tell your
mother to get ready for what I have planned for the night.”
“Mom’s drunk,” Stacy said.
“Your mother has her problems, honey. Or she thinks she has, anyhow. Maybe
someday you and I can talk about it and I’ll be able to make you understand why she
drinks so much. Have a good time, baby.”
Stacy’s father smiled, waved, and drove the car on toward the house. Puzzled, Stacy
wished that she’d had time to ask some questions, but Phil and Al and Betty arrived –
and her thoughts were turned inward as she wondered what her father would think if
he knew just what kind of a good time she hoped to get the nerve to have that
evening…