AMATEUR XXX STORIES

-

ALPHABETICAL SEX STORY LISTINGS:

A - B - C - D - E - F - G - H - I - J - K - L - M - N - O - P - Q - R - S - T - U - V - W - X - Y - Z

JOLENE stretch road wasnt too

Jolene

©2002 Anais Ninja

anais_ninja@hotmail.com



(NOTE: This is a revised version of the story posted on 1/12/2002; two

missing paragraphs at the end have been restored. It's a rather minor

revision for such a long story so I'm not going to repost it on the

a.s.s.m. newsgroup.)





My heart pounded as I heard the key turn in the front door lock. He's

home. He had barely enough time to put down his suitcase when I jumped

off the couch and into his arms.



"You're home! I missed you so much," I said, hugging him.



"I missed you too, kitten," he said, kissing me on the lips. I could

feel him stiffening beneath his trousers, anticipating his real welcome.

I gently brushed the growing bulge with my fingers as we kissed.



"I need a drink," he said. I took his coat and hung it up before

fixing him a scotch and water, handing it to him as he settled on the

couch. He lit a cigar and sipped his drink while I sat on the coffee

table and helped him out of his boots. I was unbuckling his trousers

when he stopped me.



"Let me look at you first," he said. I stopped what I was doing and

straightened up. I was wearing his favorite outfit, a tiny pair of

white cotton panties and a skimpy baby-tee. "Turn around."



I felt his hands cupping my bottom and caressing my thighs. He had

strong hands but a light touch that sent chills through me and gave

me gooseflesh.



"Okay, keep going." I knelt between his thighs and unzipped his

trousers, fishing inside his silk boxers for his cock, his beautiful

cock, so happy to see me. I kissed the tip, my way of saying grace

for the bounty I was about to receive. Then I guided it into my

mouth, parting my lips to accept his hardness.



"My sweet little girl," he groaned. "I missed your loving mouth."



I looked up at him and smiled as well as I could with two inches of

penis in my mouth. But a smile isn't just in the mouth. It's in the

eyes, too. I looked up at him with love as my tongue swirled over

his hardness, getting a gentle hand caressing my cheek in return.



I took him deeper in my mouth, ravishing him with my lips and tongue,

caressing his cock and balls with my hands. Three years I'd been

sucking his lovely cock, and I knew what he liked and how to please

him. There was a spot on the underside of his penis that was quite

sensitive, and I concentrated on that special place with my tongue.

He liked having his balls handled, gently of course. I treated them

like fragile eggs in a nest of graying hair.



It started with a twitch, his cock dancing in my mouth as I sucked him.

I redoubled my efforts, my head bobbing in his lap as I pleasured my

lover. His hips began to rock in time with my sucking, driving his

hardness deeper into my mouth. My tongue lingered over his glans,

tasting his precum. Fingers dancing over his shaft and balls, I

brought him closer to fulfillment.



"That's it, baby. Here it comes," he groaned. I felt his balls

tighten and his cock tense in my mouth, the head flaring like a cobra's

hood. I looked up at him and was about to nod when he came, his fat

prick erupting in my mouth, spurting a thick wave of semen that filled

my cheeks and slid down my throat. I gently squeezed his balls with

one hand, milking his shaft with the other, urging the rest of his

sweet load into my mouth. He sighed and patted my cheek as he relaxed,

settling back into the plush couch.



"Baby," he said. "Just what I needed." I kept his cock between my

lips as it softened, dribbling the last of his ejaculation. It tasted

different, but two weeks abroad eating strange food will do that. I

tried to identify the spicy aftertaste, wondering what he'd eaten. Was

it Dubai this time? Or Singapore? No matter. I was glad to have him

back.



"Come here, baby," he said, tugging at my shoulder. I released his

glistening cock from my mouth, giving it a loving kiss and cleaning

the last of his cum with my tongue. He pulled me into his lap and

kissed me, tasting the traces of his semen that lingered on my lips.



"Thank you," I said, leaning against his broad chest.



"Thank you what, baby?" he said.



"Thank you Daddy," I sighed, his hands roaming up my thighs, brushing

against the crotch of my panties, feeling my heat and warmth through

the cotton.



Except he wasn't my Daddy. My Daddy was the Devil.





* * *



I was the youngest of three children, growing up on a West Texas cattle

ranch. We were a pretty happy family until Mama left when I was ten.

I never knew why, but I thought it might have had something to do with

that preacher who came through town a few weeks before she left. That

was the last we heard of her.



We all took it pretty hard, Daddy especially. He'd drink himself to

sleep every night. Sometimes he'd pass out on the floor and piss

himself, some nights he'd just cry. There were a few nights we thought

he'd kill himself, but my oldest brother Arlen would hide the shotgun

shells, and we'd watch Daddy tear apart the house looking for them.

Arlen was pretty sharp for a fourteen-year old, so Daddy never found

the shells. Coby, my other brother, was twelve then, and he'd hide

under his bed and try not to cry too loudly. He was really scared of

Daddy.



After a few weeks Daddy settled down, getting drunk only on weekends.

My brothers and I were left to fend for ourselves, and even though I

was just shy of eleven, I did all the housework and some of the chores,

too, even cooking all the meals.



Since Mama was home-schooling us, we either had to go to school or get

a tutor. Daddy didn't have the cash for a teacher and he needed Arlen

and Coby working the ranch full time. Daddy stewed over this problem

until one Saturday night when he went out alone in the truck, coming

back the next morning with his clothes all sooty and smelling like

gasoline. That Monday, I heard from the grocery man that the County

Courthouse caught fire Saturday night, and a hundred years of birth and

death records went up in flames. After that, Daddy didn't talk about

school or tutoring anymore, and nobody from the school district came

looking for us.



About a month after the fire, Daddy was getting drunk on the porch,

sitting on the steps and drinking bourbon from the bottle. It was

a Friday night, a hot windless night. Daddy was in a crying mood,

maybe because he and Mama used to go dancing on Friday nights. I

watched him from behind the living room curtains for a while before

I went upstairs to my room.



It was hot, even though the windows were open. I went across the hall

to my Mama's old sewing room and opened those windows as well, hoping

to catch a breeze and cool off my room. I propped my door open a few

inches with a shoe so it wouldn't blow shut in the middle of the night

and wake me. My the door to my brothers' bedroom was shut, but they

had an old fan that kept the air moving.



I stepped out of my overalls and pulled my t-shirt over my head,

leaving my panties on as I climbed into bed. Even the thin top

sheet was too heavy on that sultry night, so I cast it aside and

lay on my back, staring at the ceiling as my Daddy's sobbing carried

up from the porch. I was thinking about Mama, too, as I drifted off

to sleep.



The sound of my door closing woke me up. It was still dark and I

couldn't see my clock. I was about to reach for the lamp when I

heard the sound of feet shuffling across my floor. I froze.



"It's just Daddy, Jolene," he said in a horse whisper. I could smell

the bourbon on his breath. I looked up at him.



He was standing at the foot of my bed, naked. He had the bottle of

bourbon, nearly empty, in one hand. In his other, he held his hard

cock.



"Daddy, what are you doing?" My heart started beating fast.



"I jus' wanna talk, baby." He came around to the side of my bed and

sat down heavily, nearly falling over before he found his balance.

He reached over to my bedside table and turned on the lamp, almost

knocking it to the floor in the process. I shielded my eyes against

the sudden brightness with my hand.



"Oh, sorry hunny," he slurred. "I jus' wanna see how you're growin'

up." As my eyes adjusted to the light I saw how he was looking at me.



Not quite eleven, my breasts were just fleshy lumps beneath my nipples,

more leftover babyfat than breast tissue. Mama was supposed to get me

my first training bra, but she left before we could make the trip into

town. I wondered if Daddy would take me to buy one, and how I was

supposed to ask him. And then he touched me.



He'd taken a swig of bourbon and then reached out with a callused hand

for my chest, fumbling with my nipple, flicking it with a rough finger.

I squirmed away from his hand, ending up against the headboard of my

bed.



"Sorry, hunny. Your Mama used to love that," Daddy said. "You got

hairs down there yet?" He tugged at the waistband of my panties.



"No, Daddy," I whimpered.



"Lemme check," he said, putting down the bottle and pulling at my

panties with both hands. I was scared enough to comply, worried that

he'd go nuts if I didn't, so I lifted my bottom up from the bed to

make it easier to remove my panties. Once they were off, he pressed

them against his nose and inhaled deeply, once, then twice, then a

third time. Then he turned and looked at me.



"Spread your legs, baby." He didn't sound so drunk now. I spread my

legs apart, first a bit, then some more. He leaned in, examining me

closely. My lips were still a bit babyfat puffy, still hairless the

last time I'd checked, which was a that morning in the bath. I felt

his finger between my legs and I closed my eyes, expecting the worst.

But he didn't penetrate me, though he tried. I was too dry down there.



Then I felt his hot breath on my chest and his tongue, nearly as rough

as a cow's, flicking over my nipple. I just lay there, eyes closed,

legs apart, hands at my side, while he suckled my nipples and ran his

finger over my labia.



Suddenly, I felt his hand around my wrist, guiding my hand between his

legs to his erection. He rubbed my palm against his cock to show me

what he wanted me to do. I wrapped my fingers around his penis and

stroked him, moving his foreskin up and down over his shaft. I could

hear him groan as he licked my nipples, stopping only to grab my

wrist and move my hand faster over his hardness. I got the message,

stroking him faster.



I had to admit that I was enjoying what he was doing to my nipples,

making my feel tingly between my legs, like when I'd rub myself there

late at night. But the whole situation scared me, because you never

knew what Daddy was going to do when he was drinking.



"Ready for Daddy's cum, baby?" he said.



"Um..." I wasn't sure what he meant by that. Before I could ask, he

got up and stood next to the bed, wrapping my hands in his own as I

jerked his cock. This was the first good look I'd had, and I began

to wonder what it would feel like inside me, how much it would hurt.

Just then, Daddy's cock twitched in my hand, and a warm, milky fluid

began to shoot out of the tip.



"Open up," he said, aiming his spurting penis at my face. A couple

of squirts landed in my mouth and the hot bitterness made me gag

almost immediately. I kept coughing and retching as Daddy let go

of my hand. His cock had softened and was partially retracted in

it's hood. I reached for my water glass, but Daddy held the bottle

of bourbon up to my lips, upending it. Most of it went over my

face and chest, mixing with his white spunk, but some went down my

throat, making me gag again. My eyes watered up and I started to

cry.



"Jus' gonna hafta learn to like it," Daddy slurred, putting the

bottle up to his lips and draining it. "Damn! This tastes like

cum!" He threw the bottle out the open window and it smashed

on the ground where Mama used to have her flower bed. Then he

left, slamming my door shut. I wiped the semen and bourbon off

with my discarded panties and washed my mouth out with water

before laying in bed, crying and listening to Daddy throwing

things against his bedroom wall and screaming my Mama's name.



Daddy didn't say anything about what happened the next day, but

he told me I could spend the day at the library, even sending

Arlen with the truck to pick up me and my bicycle when it began

to rain. He drove me back to the ranch, wondering how I became

Daddy's favorite all of the sudden.



"Pull over," I said, starting to cry. Arlen looked at me and

pulled to the side of the road.



"What's the matter?" he asked. "Is it about Mama?" I shook my

head. Arlen put the truck in neutral and turned off the engine.

He edged closer to me on the bench seat, putting his arm around

me and holding me while I searched for the right words.



"Daddy," I said between sobs. "He came in my room last night."



"Did he hurt you?" Arlen asked.



"Not really," I replied. "He licked my titties and made me jerk

his thing and then he came on me." I looked at my brother through

my teary eyes, seeing a strange expression on his face, almost like

Daddy's when he saw me naked the night before. Arlen had just turned

fifteen, and he looked more like Daddy with each passing day, from

his sharp nose and chin to his clear blue eyes.



"You're growin' up to be a pretty girl, Jolene. Daddy's lonely for

Mama and he sees you with your blonde hair skinny legs and he sees

her," Arlen said, holding me tighter, his thigh pressed against mine.



"But he's gonna want to...put his thing...you know," I said. "I know

he wants to."



"Hell, I wouldn't mind...," Arlen started to say. Then he leaned in

and kissed me on the lips, gently at first, then a bit harder, and

then I felt his tongue force its way into my mouth and flicking against

my own. He tasted like spearmint chaw and soda pop, and I flicked my

tongue back at his. His hands were all over me, up my thighs and

under my dress, feeling all the way to my nipples. His hands were

a bit rough, but not as bad as Daddy's, and it started to feel good.



I squirmed on the seat, not to escape, but because squirming felt

really nice. It felt like there was an oven between my legs, and only

pressing my thighs together could put it out. I had one hand pinned

against the seat but I reached for Arlen's thigh with the other, moving

up until I could feel his hardness beneath his jeans. Arlen felt

almost as big as Daddy. I felt him groan as my finger traced the

ridge of his cockhead through the worn denim.



"That's it, squirt," he said, breaking off our kiss. "Just like that."



"Don't call me 'squirt'!" I squeezed his hard penis, making him jump.



"Ow! Damn, do that to Daddy and he'll kill you," Arlen barked. "And

then me and Coby, just for hearing the shots." I started to cry again,

because I knew he was right. Arlen held me in his arms.



"I just want to make Daddy happy again," I said, after my crying jag

had ended, "but I don't want to hurt. I'm too young for this. It

scares me." Arlen shook his head in pity or sympathy, I couldn't tell

which. My brothers were closer to each other, and Daddy, than me. I

was Mama's child, helping her cook and clean and tend her flower bed.

While Arlen and Coby worked the ranch with Daddy, Mama would give me

extra book lessons or teach me to sew an apron.



"Let's go home," Arlen said, starting the truck and slipping it in

gear. "We gotta tell Coby."



"No!"



"Yes. You don't know how he is with Coby," Arlen said.



"What do you mean?"



"I mean when we're out working. What Daddy says to Coby. It's bad."



"I don't understand," I said. Was Coby in some kind of trouble? I

never heard Daddy act mean to him, but I never worked with the

livestock either. The bigger bulls still scared me a little.



"Daddy thinks he's gay," Arlen said, slowing as he turned on to our

stretch of road. I wasn't too sure what "gay" meant, but I had an

idea that it had to do with how Coby was sort of skinny and cried a

lot when he was younger. He had the same blond hair and hazel eyes

that I had, that Mama had, and until he started his growth spurt that

year, people often mistook us for twins.



"Trouble is, he's right."



* * *



"Okay, tell Coby what you told me," Arlen said, closing the door to

their bedroom. I couldn't remember the last time I was in there.

My brothers always had the door closed, shutting out Daddy's drunken

rage and self-pity I figured. There were a couple of NASCAR posters

on the wall, looking like they'd been salvaged from someone's trash.

A busted television with its guts hanging out was half-hidden under

the bunk bed. Arlen and Coby sat on the edge of the lower bunk while

I sat facing them, perched on an old milking stool with a broken leg

splinted with cloth tape and a strip of tin.



Under the dim light of a single 25-watt bulb I could barely see their

faces. This made it easier, I guess, and I got through telling them

almost everything that happened before the tears started. I didn't

sob though, but my voice just trailed off at the end. Silence.



I heard the screen door bang shut. Daddy was heading into town for a

bottle. It was Saturday night, so he'd probably buy two. The sound

of the truck faded into the distance before Arlen spoke.



"Whatd'ya think, Coby?"



"Shit. I always thought he'd try to do me first."



"Not with me in the room," Arlen said.



"What am I going to do?" I asked.



"Lay back and enjoy it, Jolene," Coby said.



"That's not funny," I snapped.



"No, it's not. But you could meet him half-way."



"What do you mean, Coby?"



"He means if you can suck him good enough he won't want your pussy,"

Arlen said. "Right?" Coby nodded.



"But what's good enough? Mama's not here to show me that," I said.



Arlen laughed first, then Coby. I didn't know what was so funny.



"Show her, Coby," Arlen said, still laughing as he stood up and dropped

his jeans. He stepped out of them and pulled down his boxer shorts.

I finally saw the cock I'd felt that afternoon in the truck. Unlike

Daddy's, Arlen's penis didn't have the collar of skin that covered the

head. As he pulled his t-shirt off, I leaned closer to get a better

look of the cock that was stiffening, levitating until it was sticking

straight out. He had some short hair growing down there, barely

covering his balls and groin.



Coby had taken off his overalls and t-shirt, and as he skinned off his

fraying white briefs, his cock popped out, standing at attention. Like

me, Coby was hairless, and his penis was about the same size as Daddy's

middle finger. Like Arlen, he lacked that outer skin, and I wondered

at what age that extra part appeared.



"Pull up and get a better look, Jolene," Arlen said as he sat down on

the bed. I scooted over with the stool as Coby piled their clothes

between Arlen's feet, making a cushion to kneel on.



Coby steadied himself on his brother's thighs and then, to my utter

amazement, leaned in and took Arlen's erection in his mouth.



"Ahhh...," Arlen sighed, leaning back on the bed and propping himself

up on his elbows. Coby slowly engulfed his hardness in his mouth,

sinking down in his brother's lap until his nose almost touched Arlen's

pubes. Than he worked back up, making his brother moan and slowly rock

his hips. Coby's hands were busy as well, cupping Arlen's balls and

stroking his shaft. He looked up at his brother, watching his

reactions. Then he pulled Arlen's cock from his mouth with a loud

"slurp".



"Here. You try," he said, pointing Arlen's penis at me. It glistened

with his spit, the head a swollen reddish-blue. Hesitantly, I got up

from the stool and took his place between Arlen's legs. Coby showed me

how to hold him, one hand cupping his nuts, the other around the base

of his penis.



"Watch your teeth and use lots of tongue," he said. I leaned in and

opened my mouth wide, wrapping my lips around my brother's shaft. It

tasted like, well, spit. A bit of sweat, that salty taste, too.

I didn't know what to do with my tongue, so I flicked it over his cock,

like we'd done when we kissed in the truck, except this wasn't his

tongue.



"Ow, teeth," Arlen said. I guess I scraped him a bit. I kept sucking

more of him into my mouth until I felt him hit the back of my throat,

and I felt like gagging so I backed off. I swirled my tongue over the

tip and the whole thing twitched in my mouth.



"Yeah, like that," Arlen gasped.



"Keep that hand moving," Coby said. I nodded as I realized that I

didn't have to suck the whole thing if I could rub the rest with my

hands. I started jerking him quickly, the way Daddy liked, but he

caught my hand in his and made me slow down.



Coby coached me as I sucked Arlen, showing me how to twist my head

and lick the sides, how to tongue his balls, even how to lick his

ass, which I wasn't about to do. Coby did it though, and Arlen seemed

to love it. I'd watch Coby suck Arlen a certain way, and then I'd

try it while Coby talked me through it.



"Okay, get ready for his cum," Coby said, when I was back between

Arlen's legs. I'd figured out that working a cock with my hands

and mouth was no harder than rubbing your tummy and patting your head

at the same time. Arlen seemed to be enjoying it, the way he was

moving his hips and groaning. His cock danced in my mouth, twitching

and pulsing as I bathed it with my tongue, my fingers gliding over

his shaft. I was feeling really hot down there, under my panties,

and I squeezed my thighs together. I wanted to touch myself, but not

in front of my brothers. Besides, I only had two hands.



"Here it comes, I'm gonna squirt," Arlen said. I was just about to

bite his wanger and scream "Don't call me squirt!" when he started

to squirt. In my mouth. Ewww.



Luckily, there wasn't nearly as much as Daddy, and it wasn't so bitter.

Bland was more like it, almost sweet. I swallowed it without gagging,

feeling really naughty for doing it. I kept Arlen's cock in my mouth

as it grew soft. He shivered when I swirled my tongue over his head,

quickly sitting up and pulling me off his cock.



"Ow, watch it. It's sensitive after I come," Arlen said.



"C'mere, Jolene," Coby said, pulling my arm. We were both still

kneeling on the floor next to the bed. Coby leaned in to me an kissed

me on the lips, his tongue darting around like Arlen's had that

afternoon in the truck. He held me by the hips, but he didn't try

to feel me up like Arlen.



"He likes the taste of my jizz," Arlen said, watching us kiss. I felt

his hand under the back of my dress, feeling my bottom through my

panties. "Take that dress off, Jolene. Lemme see you." Arlen sounded

sort of like Daddy when he said that.



"So what does gay mean?" I asked, breaking off the kiss with Coby. He

blushed bright red when Arlen laughed.



"He just showed you," Arlen said. "Take off your dress and I'll

explain." Still puzzled, I stripped off my plain yellow sundress,

sitting down on the stool to take off my shoes and socks.



"Panties, too," Arlen said. I hesitated, but skinned them off, too.



"Lemme see you. Lay on the bed," Arlen said. I sat down next to him

and lay back on the bottom bunk. When I felt his hand on my thigh I

knew what he wanted and spread my legs, exposing my pussy to my two

brothers. Arlen was entranced, examining my hairless twat from every

angle. Coby took a quick look and then reached under the bunk bed,

pulling out a cardboard carton. I craned my neck to see what was

inside the box.



"C'mere, Jolene," Coby said. I got up from the bed and squatted on the

floor next to him. The box was full of glossy magazines. I reached

in and grabbed one. It was called "Hustler".



"Wow," was all I could say. "Wow."



I leafed through the brightly colored pages, each with its own wonder.

It didn't matter whether it was a featured model or an ad for a huge

black dildo that looked like a bull's giant tool. I'd never, ever

seen anything like it.



That wasn't the only magazine in the box. There was one called

"Playboy". but that was all articles and ads for scotch. The women

were pretty, though. There were a few "Barely Legal" magazines, with

ladies nearly as old as Mama with their hair up in pigtails. A few of

the magazines were in some weird language, maybe German or Dutch or

something. The girls were younger, some of them with two guys or more

poking them with hard cocks. They all had nice white teeth and pretty

smiles, even when two guys were spurting semen on their faces.



Coby had his own stash of magazines, hidden at the bottom of the box.

There was a "Playgirl", which was mostly text, a couple of magazines

about pro wrestlers, and one called "Blueboy". I opened the last one

and looked at the pictures inside, bursting out laughing when I saw

one man sucking the cock of another, just like Coby had done. Now

I knew what "gay" meant, and even if I hadn't figured it out from the

pictures, the captions and titles said it all: "Gay boys in Bondage"

and the like.



"Coby!" I said, laughing, holding up a picture of one man with his cock

stuck in another man's bottom. He blushed deep red, but his stiff

little cock was hard.



"I guess you figured it out. Coby's been sucking me for almost two

years," Arlen said. His cock was half hard again.



"And that doesn't make you gay?" I asked.



"No, because I don't suck him back."



I looked at Coby. He had a smirk on his face that said "Yeah, right.".



"What about this?" I asked, picking up the "Hustler" and leafing to a

page that showed a big black man with his face buried between the legs

of a blonde woman. The big picture didn't show much, but smaller

insets showed all the missing detail. His big, pointy tongue was

licking her pussy, and her wrinkled, brown labia were spread flat,

glistening with his saliva. I held the picture up to Arlen.



"Well, Coby ain't got no pussy," Arlen said.



"But I do."



"You want me to lick your pussy? No way," Arlen said.



"It's only fair!" I protested. "I sucked your thing!"



"Okay, get your butt in this bed, Jolene," Arlen said, laughing.



"Ever do this before?" I asked him, laying on the bottom bunk.



"No, never," Arlen replied. He took the magazine and studied the

picture of the man licking the woman and put it down before kneeling

between my legs.



"Good thing you ain't hairy," he said, leaning into my crotch. I felt

his hot breath on my lips and then his warm, wet tongue penetrating me.

He worked inside me, his tongue probing me like a finger, before

swirling up and down my slit. When he hit the swollen little nubbin

at the top I almost jumped out of my skin. Arlen flinched, afraid

that he'd hurt me, but I grabbed his head and guided him back between

my legs. He resumed probing my hole with his tongue, avoiding the spot

that made me jump.



"What's it taste like?" Coby asked.



"Not bad, not fishy at all," Arlen said. "Here, try it."



"Um, that's okay," Coby said.



"C'mon Coby, lick me and I'll suck you," I said.



"Okay, just once." Arlen moved back to make room for his brother.

Coby took a long look at my wet cunny and slowly leaned in, his eyes

closed. Unlike his brother, he went straight for my clit, his tongue

teasing and lashing it and making me squirm and moan.



"Wow, what are you doing to her?" Arlen asked.



"See this little bump?" Coby said, spreading my labia with his fingers.

I propped myself up on my elbows to get a good look. Coby touched the

swollen little pearl and I felt an electric tingle surge through my

whole body.



"Yeah, above the peehole. Whatsit do?" Arlen asked.



"That's her clit. It's sensitive like a cock head," Coby explained.



"How do you know so much about pussy?" Arlen asked. I was wondering

that myself.



"I read it in a book at the library, a medical book."



"Keep going, Coby. That felt wonderful," I said, laying back as he

resumed licking. I watched Arlen while he watched Coby, seeing his

cock grow harder. He sat on the stool and stroked his cock. I had

the urge to suck him again, now that I knew how to do it right. Just

the idea of sucking him again made me feel really sexy and naughty.



Coby's licking grew faster, and I felt one of his fingers press inside

me, pushing in until he hit my cherry, then backing out and pushing

in again. My hips began to move against his finger and tongue, almost

by instinct or reflex. I was thinking how much I'd love to suck Arlen

again when it hit me, my first orgasm. Coby must have known this was

going to happen, but Arlen was taken by surprise, just as I was. It

was this huge wave of pleasure that took control of my body, making my

back arch and my thighs quiver and clamp around Coby's chest. I felt

like I was falling and I shrieked, which even startled Coby. It hit

again and again and the room got a lot dimmer except for the yellow

stars everywhere. Then Coby stopped and the stars went away.



"Wow...that was...wow...," I panted, trying to catch my breath.



"That's how girls come," Coby explained, sitting down on the bed

next to me.



"Damn, I'm jealous," Arlen said.



"She's still got her cherry, too," Coby said.



"And I aim to keep it," I added.



"Not in this house," Arlen laughed. "It's either me or Daddy that's

gonna bust it." He leaned forward, finger extended, aiming for my

twat, but I snapped my legs closed before he got close. He fell

on to the bed next to me, laughing and tickling me. The bed sagged

noisily under the weight of all three of us.



"You gotta suck Coby now like you promised," Arlen said. I nodded and

got off the bed and scooted between Coby's skinny legs. Before doing

anything I got a good look at his hairless cock and balls. His nut

sac shriveled when I touched it, looking like a pair of peach pits.

Coby watched me until I took his stiff prick in my mouth, gasping and

closing his eyes when my lips closed around his cock and my tongue

swirled over his smooth shaft. He didn't have a veiny penis like Daddy

or Arlen, but he did have that muscle along the bottom that twitched

when I did something good to his cock.



Arlen watched us for a spell and then he sat up and straddled Coby's

chest, offering his hard cock for his brother to suck. All I could

see was Arlen's butt and his balls hanging down, his cock disappearing

into the shadow that covered Coby's face. I could hear his lips and

tongue making squishing noises around Arlen's cock. This time I kept

a hand free so I could touch myself in that place Coby licked. It was

too sensitive to touch directly, but I could make myself feel really

good by circling it with my fingertip. It was nice and slippery from

Coby's licking.



I found myself really getting into sucking Coby's cock. It was nice

and slim, so there was no problem scraping him with my teeth. And it

was too short to block my throat and make me gag, so I could get the

whole thing in my mouth. From the way his penis twitched in my mouth,

I could tell he liked what I was doing.



While I sucked his smooth cock and licked his hairless balls, I watched

his hands on his brother's shaft and nuts, caressing them and fondling

them. Then Coby took Arlen's cock from his mouth and licked one of his

fingers. He resumed sucking and with the moistened fingertip, began to

probe Arlen's ass. I stopped sucking for a moment to watch, hearing

Arlen grunt when Coby's finger pressed inside him. He began to move

his hips back and forth, sending his cock in and out of Coby's mouth,

fucking his brother's face like a woman's pussy. Coby's finger fucked

in and out of Arlen's bottom, just like he'd fingered my pussy while he

licked my clit.



I kept sucking, keeping one eye on my brothers and one hand between my

legs. Coby's cock was twitching a lot more, and I knew he was going to

cum pretty soon and squirt his stuff in my mouth. I was wondering how

much cream he was going to make when I heard Arlen groan, his hips

shuddering and shaking the rickety bunk bed. I could hear Coby

swallowing and I knew it was Arlen's cream going down his throat.



Now that the show was over, I concentrated on milking Coby. Using both

hands again, I gently caressed his cock and balls. A thought occurred

to me and, using a finger still slippery with my pussy juice, I found

Coby's tight asshole and pressed against it. I heard Coby moan, the

sound muffled by Arlen's cock, still in his mouth as it softened. He

pulled out and lifted his leg back over Coby's chest, as if he was

dismounting a horse. I could see Coby's face again, Arlen's spunk

dripping from the corner of his mouth. He smiled and closed his eyes

as I pushed my moist finger inside his bottom, feeling the ring of

muscle resist. His cock was twitching wildly between my lips, and I

tried to tame it with my tongue.



Suddenly, Coby stiffened, his asshole tightening around my finger as

his cock gave one last twitch and a tiny spurt of come. There wasn't

a lot of spunk, and it seemed thinner than Arlen's or Daddy's, blander,

too. But Coby stayed hard after he came instead of getting soft and

small. He shivered again when I swirled my tongue over his cockhead,

but he didn't make me stop. He just lay back and ran his fingers

through my hair. I remember thinking that I hoped that wasn't the hand

he used to finger Arlen's butt.



After I pulled Coby out of my mouth, we lay together on the bed. I'd

never felt this close to anyone except Mama, and thinking about her

made me a little sad. I didn't cry, though. Then we looked through

some more of the magazines. Arlen and Coby had read them all many

times, but they were new to me. That was my sex education, one night

of looking at glossy magazines with weird stains on some of the pages.



There was one magazine that Coby and Arlen didn't look at, though. It

was smaller than the others and it was all letters to the magazine from

people that had sex with their family. My brothers didn't read so

well, and the only pictures were black-and-white, except for the ads

which were the same ones as the other magazines, phone sex lines and

pictures for computers. I was going to ask if I could borrow that one

when we heard Daddy's truck driving up the road. I grabbed my clothes

and tucked the magazine in my dress before running out of my brothers'

bedroom, heading for my own. Before I put my clothes on, I slipped

the magazine under my mattress. I was dressed by the time the screen

door squeaked open and banged shut, and I squatted by the door and

listened to Daddy walking into the kitchen, bottles clinking in the

paper sack he carried.



The rain that passed through brought cooler weather, so I kept my

bedroom door closed, hoping Daddy would just get drunk and pass out.

I lit my bedside lamp and fished under the mattress for the magazine.

It said "Family Letters" on the cover, and the table of contents listed

about twenty stories with one line descriptions, like "Her weekend with

the grandparents turns out to be more than she expected!" or "I caught

my brother and his best friend in my panties!" or "This family prays

together and PLAYS together!".



I opened the magazine to a random page, thumbing back to the start of

that story. It was about a mother and her daughter, how she takes her

for her first bra and then surprises her with her first vibrator.

There were a lot of words I didn't understand, especially parts of

her pussy that were some foreign language, but while the mother puts

that plastic thing inside her she explains all the parts to her. I

read a couple of pages but I started to miss Mama. I imagined the lady

looking like her, smelling like her. I looked for another story.



The next one was about two brothers, older than Arlen and Coby by a few

years. They lived in a big house in California with a swimming pool,

and their parents went away on a trip, leaving them alone together.

It was really cool the way they described each other, tanned bodies

glistening with oil, like their whole bodies were one big cock. And

unlike my brothers, they had no problem sucking and fucking each other.



I was curious how it felt to have a cock in the bottom, so I licked

my finger real well and shoved it down the back of my panties. It

hurt when I pressed it in, not the sharp pain of Coby's finger hitting

my cherry. More of a burning, instead. My finger wasn't wet enough,

so I pulled it out and sniffed it. Yuck.



In the story, the brothers used some sort of oil to make it easier,

and I started to wonder about how true these letters were. I read

parts of two more, and it seemed like they could have all been written

by one or two people. I started to read a story about a widowed father

and his daughter when I heard a knock on the door. I quickly shoved

the magazine under the mattress just as the door opened. It was Daddy.



"Jes' me, Jolene," he said. He had a bottle with him and two glasses.

I sat up in my bed and smoothed my dress over my legs so he wouldn't

see my panties. He set the glasses down on the night table and sat on

the edge of the bed.



"I wanna talk to you, 'bout las' night," he said, pouring bourbon into

the two glasses. "Here." He handed me a glass. I sniffed it first

and sipped it carefully. It burned my tongue and made my eyes water,

and I reached for the glass of water on my bedside table to chase it.

Daddy laughed and downed his bourbon, pouring another shot for himself.

I took another sip, and this one went down easier. I felt a warmth

in my stomach, and a tingling under my skin. Not bad. Not bad at all.



"Daddy, you were drunk last night," I said.



"Well, I ain't drunk now, and I still wanna do you," he said, holding

up the bottle. It was only a third gone, so he was still fairly sober.



"Why, Daddy? Why don't you find another lady like Mama?" The booze

had loosened my tongue. Daddy looked like he was about to holler at

me but caught himself.



"An ol' mule like me? Hell, I couldn't keep a wife, how am I gonna

catch one?" He slugged back his drink and poured another.



"You're handsome, Daddy."



"You think so?"



I didn't reply. Instead, I put down my glass and climbed into his lap,

wrapping my arms around him and kissing his stubbly cheek. He put down

his drink and wrapped me in his arms, kissing me on the lips. He

tasted of booze and tobacco and his tongue nearly filled my mouth. I

felt his cock stiffen inside his overalls, pressing up against my

thighs.



"Take your dress off, baby. You can keep them pannies on," he said.

I pulled my dress up over my head and he kissed me again, his fingers

flicking over my nipples. I pressed my thighs together and wiggled

my bottom in his lap, feeling his cock grow harder.



"Let me make you happy, Daddy," I said, undoing one of the snaps of

his overalls. I unhooked the other and the front dropped down. I ran

my hand over his chest as we kissed again. He lay back on the bed and

I climbed on top of him, tugging at his overalls and pulling them down

over his waist. Then I pulled down his boxers and got a really good

look at Daddy's cock and balls. Compared to Arlen's they were big and

compared to Coby's they were huge. I pulled back the skin of his cock

and his big purplish head popped out, blunt where Coby's spear was

sharp. I opened my mouth and extended my tongue. Daddy gasped as I

settled in between his hairy thighs and began to suck his hard cock.



My only thought was to keep him from tearing my pussy apart with this

thick tool, so I began to lick and suck him as if my life depended on

it. I worked him with both hands, cupping his big balls and stroking

his shaft quickly, the way he liked it. His hips moved like Arlen's,

fucking my face like a substitute pussy. I had to open my mouth real

wide to keep from scraping him with my teeth, and his big swollen cock

head didn't leave much room for my tongue. But I still made him twitch

and dance in my mouth, and I knew I could make him come like this.



And come he did, in big thick spurts that filled my mouth. It was just

as bitter as last night, and I couldn't help but gag a bit, but I

swallowed it down fast so I wouldn't have to taste it for too long. He

stopped spurting and started to get soft, the tension in his body

draining with his sperm. I let him fall from my mouth and got up from

between his legs, reaching for my glass of bourbon and taking a sip.

It cut the bitter taste of his spunk nicely. I drained the glass and

took a sip of my water. Daddy just lay back on the bed with a smile,

his eyes half-closed like he was falling asleep. But he was wide

awake.



"Where did you learn to do that, Jolene?" he asked, an angry edge in

his voice. My stomach churned as I began to realize that I was in big

trouble. Daddy pulled up his shorts and overalls and sat up, taking

a big swig straight from the bottle before pouring another shot.



"You're gonna be mad, Daddy."



"I ain't gonna be mad. Now tell me, where did you learn that, Jolene?"



I knew the "ain't gonna be mad" part meant nothing when that bottle was

past half-empty. I thought fast, knowing that the truth, that Coby

showed me, was out of the question. The magazines, too, would get them

in trouble. I couldn't tell him I'd read it in the library, because I

didn't want to lose my privileges. Besides, there was nothing in that

library that had anything to do with sex, other than the medical

textbooks Coby had seen. I had one last choice, and I reached under

the mattress for the magazine.



"What's that?" Daddy asked. He could hardly read at all.



"It's a magazine I found by the side of the county road," I said.



"What's in it?"



"It's stories about people having sex. Families."



"Read me one, willya?"



I sat back in my bed, next to my lamp. Daddy poured me another drink,

telling me I had to "catch up". I took a small sip while he lay across

my mattress. I turned to the story about the father and daughter and

began to read. He sipped his drink slowly as he listened to me read

about how the daughter seduced the father in an effort to cheer the

young widower up, how she surprised him in the shower, soaping up his

penis and milking him with her hands. The father took his daughter to

bed, full of guilt and doubt and shame, but with a huge erection

anyway. I was just about to read how he popped her cherry when I heard

Daddy snoring.



I couldn't believe my luck, and there was something about this that

reminded me of that "1001 Nights" story Mama used to read to me. I

took the magazine and tiptoed into the sewing room, reading the rest

of the story by lamp light, before making a bed on the floor from bolts

of cloth and chair cushions. I checked on Daddy, still asleep on my

bed. His glass of bourbon had spilled, staining my bedsheets. I went

back to the sewing room and fell asleep.



I woke up late the next morning, fuzzy headed from the liquor, and not

sure of where I was. Then I remembered what happened the night before.

The funny thing was that someone had covered me with a blanket during

the night. I wrapped it around me and walked into my bedroom. Daddy

was gone, only the two glasses and the bottle were left. It was past

ten, so he and my brothers must have been out working, even though it

was Sunday.



That night I read Daddy another story, jerking his cock while I did it

and only sucking on it when he was about to come. I couldn't read and

suck at the same time, obviously. He didn't get drunk that night, he

just kissed me on the forehead and went off to bed, his own bedroom

this time.



Daddy didn't like the gay stories, and he wouldn't ever kiss me on the

lips after I sucked him. I read the rest of the stories over a couple

of weeks, starting over at the first one. But three times through the

stories was enough for Daddy, and some nights he'd just want to lie

back while I sucked his cock.



Daddy didn't drink so much then, and he stopped being so mean to Coby.

My brothers knew what I was doing, and we still fooled around whenever

we could, though we had to be careful around Daddy. Coby was happy to

have Daddy off his case, and he'd lick my pussy in gratitude whenever

I wanted. I found that I didn't think about Mama so much.



Then I made my deal with the Devil.





* * * ©2002 Anais Ninja anais_ninja@hotmail.com





I knew Daddy wanted to fuck me badly. He had started to talk really

dirty when I sucked him, calling me his "little babyslut" and telling

me how he was going to stuff my little cunny full of cock and make me

scream and cry. Sometimes, he'd talk about fucking my ass, and one

time he called out Mama's name when he came.



It was on another really hot night, a Friday night, and Daddy was on

my bed, naked. He'd bought a new book of stories for me to read, the

latest issue of "Family Letters". I'd read him a good one, about a

mother who teaches her daughter how to suck her father's cock, and

he really came hard, filling my mouth with his juice. I'd been

drinking my bourbon with ice in it -- that's how hot it was -- and it

really went down smooth, especially after the ice started melting.

I'd been rubbing my cunny while I read the story and my lips were

slightly red. I saw Daddy staring between my legs.



"I really wanna fuck you, baby," he said. I saw his soft cock stir

slightly. He had never come twice in a night, but I knew it was

possible. Arlen and Coby did it all the time.



"Not until I have hair down there," I said. I was a little dizzy from

the booze, and I hardly realized what I was saying. Daddy looked

surprised at my demand, not the actual words, but that I'd say it at

all.



"And not my ass, either," I continued, growing bolder. I took another

sip of my drink. "Not until I'm big enough and old enough so it

doesn't hurt. I don't want to hurt, Daddy." The last part was a plea,

delivered softly, to stir his heart. If he had one left.



"But you'll read me stories, right? And suck me?" He had a look on

his face I'd never seen, like a child asking a favor from his mother.



"Yes, Daddy."



"Come here, Jolene," he said, holding out his arms. He hugged me and

even kissed me on the lips until he remembered that I had just sucked

his cock and swallowed his spunk. I wanted to hear him tell me that he

loved me and that he wouldn't hurt me, but this was good enough. I

actually fell asleep in his arms that night, though his snoring woke me

up and I ended up in the sewing room again.



Daddy kept his part of the bargain, never even touching me down there,

though he'd check so see if I was growing hair every Saturday night.

I'd check myself every morning in the bath with a hand mirror, plucking

anything that was visible with Mama's old eyebrow tweezers. Since I

had such light blonde hair, it was hard to see anything. But Coby had

just begin to sprout his first pubes, a ring of hair around the base

of his cock and a few sticking up on his balls. They were nearly

brown, darker than his eyebrows, so that's what I looked for.



This went on for over a year, until just after my twelfth birthday.

There was now a stack of "Family Letters" magazines in my closet,

and I'd gotten used to the taste of bourbon and sperm. Daddy had

caught Arlen and Coby watching through a hole in the wall one night,

and instead of being pissed off, he brought them into my room to listen

to me read the stories and watch me jerk and suck his cock, while he

encouraged them to stroke themselves. He was proud that both his

boys were shooting semen, joking about putting them out to stud like

his bulls. He'd never make me suck them, though, and though I wanted

Coby to lick me after I sucked Daddy -- the stories got me really hot,

too -- I never had the nerve to ask.



Most nights it was just Daddy and me, but he'd have my brothers watch

and jerk off sometimes, mostly on Saturday nights. Those were the

nights he'd check me for pussy hair, and I'd read the stories with my

panties off, sitting cross-legged in bed with the book in my lap,

fingering myself with one hand while I stroked Daddy with the other.

He didn't care to watch me come, so I'd take care of myself after he

left.



It was another hot summer night, a thunderstorm brewing over the hills

to the west. When I heard Daddy trudging up the stairs, the tinkle

of ice cubes in the glass he carried, I put away my diary and pulled

out the magazine from my bedside table. Daddy knocked and walked in

to my bedroom. Arlen and Coby followed a minute later.



"Saturday night, Jolene. Time to check your cunny," Daddy said,

pouring me a drink. He poured shots for Arlen and Coby, too. They

stood there in their undershorts while I took off my blouse and skirt.

Daddy had given me all of Mama's old clothes for Christmas, the ones

she didn't take with her. A lot of them were torn and shredded, by

Daddy during a drunken rage, I figured. But I managed to sew most

of them back together, taking in the hems, waists and sleeves to

fit my slim body. I even managed to alter some of her underthings,

and it was a pretty pair of her pink satin panties and a soft-cup

bra that I wore that night. I slipped off the bra and stepped out of

the panties and sat on my bed, next to the lamp. Daddy knelt next

to the bed and spread my thighs.



"A hair. I see a hair," he said, laughing.



"A hair? Where?" I bolted upright in bed and looked down at my pussy,

in a state of utter panic. I must have missed one in the bath that

morning. No way it could have grown that fast.



"I see two," Coby said.



"Where?" Arlen asked.



"Yup, I see it. Right there near her butthole," Daddy said. I reached

for my mirror and held it between my legs. Two hairs. Damn.



"Deal's a deal, little lady," Daddy said, stepping out of his trousers

and unbuttoning his shirt.



"Yes, Daddy," I sighed.



"Now, I'll try not to hurt you, but it's gonna hurt," he said, stepping

out of his shorts. His cock was hard and pointing straight out.



"Yes, Daddy."



"I been waiting for this for a while," he said, getting into bed and

kneeling between my legs.



"Wait, Daddy."



"What?" he asked. He had his cock in his hand, the outer skin pulled

back, and his body hovered over mine.



"Could I have Coby bust my cherry? Or Arlen? It might hurt less.

Then you can fuck me with that big cock. Please?" Daddy looked at

me and then at my brothers, and then he climbed back out of bed.

I looked at Coby and Arlen, seeing their erections tenting their

shorts. Coby was fourteen, and he'd grown a lot. Arlen was nearly

as big as Daddy, but without a foreskin. He and Coby had it removed

after they were born, and it wasn't something that grew later like I

thought.



"Okay, Coby first. Then Arlen. Then me. And you boys better not

cum in her pussy! I ain't fuckin' another man's come, not even my

own boys'!"



"Yes, sir," they said, as they peeled off their shorts. Coby climbed

into bed, ready to kneel between my spread legs, but I tugged at his

cock, beckoning him to straddle my chest. I wanted to suck him first,

so he'd be nice and slippery, maybe come a little faster, too. He was

almost four inches long, and I had no trouble taking his whole cock

in my mouth. After a couple of minutes of sucking, he was cock

was glistening with my spit, ready to slide inside my virgin cunny.



I'd tried to prepare myself for this moment, using my fingers and the

handle of my hairbrush to poke at my hymen, as Coby called it. Unlike

plucking hairs, this wasn't the sort of pain you got used to. It was

too sharp for that. Instead, it was something like birthing a baby,

a pain you had to get through. I took a deep breath and let it out,

preparing for the pain. Coby's cock was poised at my cunny, ready to

part my lips. I reached down and guided him to the right spot, pulling

on his penis so he'd know to press forward with his slim hips. His

slick penis slipped inside me, stretching me, filling me. It felt

great until he hit my cherry.



"Ow, Coby! Stop! It hurts!" The pain of his slim cock pushing into

my cherry was too much. He grimaced and backed off.



"Keep going, son," Daddy commanded. Coby hesitated.



"Wait, Daddy. I need a drink first to kill the pain," I pleaded.



"Okay, fine," Daddy said, pouring more bourbon in my glass.



"Lick me," I whispered to Coby. He smiled and nodded and scooted

between my legs. Daddy handed me the glass and I sipped it while

Coby licked my tender hole. Daddy watched and sipped his drink,

shaking his head as he watched his youngest son eat his daughter's

pussy. Coby licked me good, and I started to come in front of my

Daddy, which was sort of embarrassing.



"Okay, that's enough. No need to make her all sloppy with spit,

boy." Daddy tugged on Coby's shoulder, pulling his mouth off my

pussy. I took a big gulp of bourbon and got ready.



"I don't want to know where you learned that trick, Coby. But at

least it ain't dick in your mouth." Daddy patted Coby on the butt

at my brother stretched out over me, his cock poised at my wet

pussy. I guided him inside me again, and closed my eyes.



"Quick, boy! That's the way to do it," Daddy said, pushing down on

Coby's bottom. His cock pressed into my cherry and tore it in a flash

of white hot pain. My vision went red for a second, and I wrapped my

arms and legs around Coby, trying to keep his cock from moving. Every

little movement inside me meant searing pain. My tears began to flow,

and Coby looked down at me and kissed me, his own eyes welling up with

tears. "Sorry, Jolene. I'm so sorry..." he whispered.



"Give her a good fuckin', boy. And don't forget to pull out," Daddy

commanded, pouring another drink. At this rate he'd be drunk by the

time Arlen was done with me. Maybe he'd pass out first. But right now

I had to get through this, my first fuck.



Coby began to thrust in and out, and it still hurt, but not as much as

when my cherry broke. In fact, as the alcohol went to my head, it

began to feel pretty nice. I'd wince if he went too deep, so he stayed

shallow, fucking my tender pussy with short, quick strokes. I felt him

twitching inside me, the way he'd spasm in my mouth when I sucked his

cock. He started to twitch some more and then he pulled out, his hand

jerking his glistening cock, shiny with blood and pussy juice. It

didn't take long before he gasped and shot his little load on my belly,

his hand finally slowing down as his cock softened. He kissed me on

the lips before he got up from the bed. I reached for my sheet and

wiped Coby's spunk from my belly.



"Good job, Coby," Daddy said, swatting him on the bottom and handing

him a shot of bourbon. Coby feigned a smile and downed the shot,

trying not to choke on it.



"You're up, Arlen," Daddy said, downing another shot. "Stretch 'er out

for me real nice, y'hear?" Daddy laughed at that last part. I

couldn't remember the last time I heard him laugh. Arlen got into

bed and leaned down, kissing me on the lips.



"Can I suck you first?" I asked. I liked sucking Arlen's penis, and if

we weren't sister and brother I'd want him for a boyfriend. He looked

just like Daddy, except without twenty years of West Texas sun and wind

tanning his skin like leather. Arlen smiled and nodded. He liked the

way I sucked him, almost as good as Coby, who was still his favorite.



I gently cupped Arlen's balls and aimed his hard cock at my mouth,

swirling my tongue over his head and shaft, accepting his clean-

tasting cock gladly. His pubic hair had grown over the last year,

and ticked my nose as I drew him deeper. Arlen began to slowly

rock his hips, fucking my face like a pussy. Soon enough, he'd have

the real thing wrapped around his penis.



"Okay, he's wet enough. Fuck 'er, boy. Fuck 'er good," Daddy said.

Arlen pulled out of my mouth and got between my legs, his cock shiny

with my spit. He placed his hard bone against my pussy and pushed

inside me without my help. He lowered himself on me, his body

covering mine, and began to thrust, moving only his hips.



I felt the progress of his hard cock in my aching pussy, inch by inch,

vein by vein, past my torn cherry, past where Coby couldn't reach. He

filled me so deep that I didn't mind the little bit of pain that

lingered. I felt his pubes tickle me, this time down there between my

legs instead of my nose. The he seemed to get wider and I realized

that all of his cock was inside me, filling me.



"You okay?" he whispered. I nodded, my eyes closed, savoring the

feeling.



"Go slow," I said. I opened my eyes, seeing him smile as his hips

began to rock back and forth, stretching my young vagina. I moved

my hips against his, wanting to feel him deeper, aching for his

wonderful cock. We began to build a rhythm, and my bed started to

creak like a bunch of tree frogs. I looked over at Daddy, who was

smiling and stroking his cock. Coby sat on the floor, visibly drunk,

his empty glass next to him. He was trying to focus on what was

happening, but it was too difficult.



Arlen kissed me again, his cock moving faster inside me. I pushed

against him, my pleasure mounting, the pain forgotten. The feeling

was even more intense than being licked down there. Arlen's cock

stretched me, the top of his shaft rubbing against the bottom of my

clit with each stroke.



Then he lifted my legs into the crooks of his elbows, turning my

ass up and grinding the bottom of my cunny with his cock. I wanted

to move my hips but I couldn't, and was about to try to free my legs

but then Arlen began fucking me with long, slow strokes that made me

forget what I wanted to do. It felt amazing, his penis filling my

tight pussy on the in stroke, and pulling almost all the way out,

teasing me with just the head of his cock, the fleshy ridge rubbing

against my lips.



Arlen couldn't keep doing it slow for long, and he started to speed

up, fucking me harder with shallower strokes. His balls began to

slap against my ass as he pounded me into the mattress, making my

bed smack against the wall. I couldn't move, so I just lay back and

let Arlen pound my pussy, feeling the waves of pleasure grow with each

thrust. Just when Arlen pressed my legs back against the bed and

began to really grind into me, I started to come, shaking really

hard under him. He let go of my legs and I wrapped them around his

back, my pussy spasming and squeezing his cock, my chest and belly

heaving as I began to shriek.



I was pushing my hips against his, trying to take him deeper, when I

felt his cock start to twitch. He struggled to pull out, wrestling

with me while he tried to keep from coming. I came again, and my arms

and legs went limp while I shuddered on the bed. This was all Arlen

needed, and he pulled out of me, jerking his wet cock, and began to

spurt his seed all over my belly. I just lay there, overwhelmed, while

his cock dribbled his cream on my skin. Then he climbed out of bed,

and I heard Daddy slap his ass.



I was so spent from Arlen's fucking that I forgot about Daddy.

I opened my eyes and saw him standing over me. He dropped a towel

on me and I wiped off Arlen's semen while Daddy climbed into bed.



"Suck me, Jolene," he ordered, holding up his fat prick. I sat up and

leaned into his crotch, slobbering over his cock so it would be nice and

wet.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. "That's it, baby," he said,

holding my head as he moved his hips back and forth, fucking his

daughter's mouth. I bathed him with my tongue, trying to moisten

as much of his penis as I could.



"Okay, lay back," he said. I complied and he knelt between my legs,

holding them by my knees and spreading them. Daddy's body covered me,

and I felt his cock head press against my pussy.



"Put it in you, Jolene," he said. I reached down and guided him to my

entrance, closing my eyes and expecting the worst. He pressed forward,

his fat cock head stretching me. With the extra skin on his cock, Daddy

felt thicker than Arlen, but without the feeling of that fleshy ridge.



"Damn, I coulda had this las' year," he said, slowly entering me.

He looked down at me, studying my face, looking for some sign of pain,

perhaps. But even if it did hurt, I wasn't going to let it show. Not

now, not ever. I just closed my eyes and imagined Arlen was fucking me

again.



Daddy didn't fuck me like Arlen, though. He just lay his 200 pounds

on top of me and humped my little pussy. I was pinned to the bed and

couldn't move, not that I wanted to make it better for him. I just

wanted him to finish and get out and let me fuck Arlen again, maybe

suck Coby while we did it. I closed my eyes and thought of sex with

my brothers and it hit me again. I started to come under Daddy, and

though I tried not to squeeze his cock with my pussy, I couldn't help

it.



He must have liked that because he fucked me harder and faster. I felt

his hips stutter and his cock twitched inside me, and then he came,

filling my pussy with his cream. I came again when I felt him spurt

inside me, trembling and shaking beneath him. He let out a deep breath

and climbed off me, taking his bottle and leaving the room without a

word. He just slammed his bedroom door shut and that was that.



I looked at my brothers. Coby was drunk and half passed-out on the

floor. Arlen was draining the rest of his brother's drink. He looked

at me and shrugged his shoulders. I figured that Daddy was freaked out

when he saw me come. I don't think I ever did that in front of him.



Arlen dragged Coby to bed while I took a warm bath. I felt really

sore down there, and there was blood all over my thighs, making the

bath water turn pink after I got in the tub. Daddy's sperm leaked

out of my swollen cunny in long, milky strands. I still hadn't had

my period but I wondered if I'd get pregnant, anyway. I'd ask Coby

tomorrow, if he wasn't too hung over.



Daddy's spunk was still leaking out of me after the bath, so I had

to find an old pair of cotton panties, stepping into them before

getting into bed. There was blood and other stuff on the sheets, so

I changed them before turning out the light and falling asleep.



I was really sore the next morning, to the point that it hurt to

walk. I took another warm bath and a couple of aspirin. Daddy

saw how slow I was moving at breakfast, but he didn't saw anything.

Arlen and Coby noticed, too, but they weren't going to say a word

in their father's presence. Finally, after breakfast, Daddy went

out to the truck. Coby followed, but Arlen lingered behind.



"You okay?" he asked while I cleared the dishes.



"A little sore," I replied. "Actually, really hurtin'."



"Sorry I fucked you so hard, Jolene."



"Tain't your fault, Arlen. Truth is, I liked it."



Arlen smiled and kissed me on the cheek before running off to catch up

with Daddy and Coby. As I washed the dishes, the truck rolled off

across the ranch.



Except for dinner, there wasn't much to do on a Sunday, so I lay in bed

with a bag of ice between my legs and read. Daddy must have had some

pity on me, because after dinner I found a couple of prescription

bottles of pills, old drugs Daddy took after a broken leg a few years

ago. They were past their expiration date, but I took one of the

painkillers anyway. It made me dizzy like the bourbon, but the pain

was finally gone. Daddy didn't visit me that night but it didn't

matter because I passed out cold before nine.





For the next three years Daddy would come into my room almost every

night. He still liked to hear me read stories from "Family Letters"

and jerk or suck his cock. On weekends, when he'd had that little

extra drink or two, he'd climb on top of me and stuff his cock inside

my pussy, fucking me like he'd done that first night. Even after my

periods started, he'd still fuck me unless I was on the rag, only he'd

make me douche afterwards while he watched. It must have worked,

because I never got pregnant.



I'd still fool around with Coby and Arlen, and though Coby didn't

care to fuck me much, he was fascinated with my growing breasts,

kissing and suckling them while Arlen fucked me. He liked playing

with my ass, too, and he even talked me into letting him stick his

cock there. We were drinking Daddy's bourbon that night while he

was passed out on the couch. I let him do it, and it didn't feel

bad, but it didn't feel so good either. Having him in my bottom

while Arlen's tool was in my pussy was much better, though. I

got the feeling that Coby was thinking about boys when he was in

my bottom, just like when he'd close his eyes while I sucked him.



Even after Arlen got a girlfriend, he'd fuck me. We explored all

sorts of positions and did it in all kinds of places around the

ranch, even in the back of Daddy's truck. Doing it with Arlen was

fun, and I was starting to tolerate Daddy. At least with Daddy, it

was over quick, and he wasn't crying on the porch or throwing stuff

anymore. Sometimes, he was downright pleasant, relatively speaking.

He was stingy with praise and a stranger to affection.



Everything changed after Daddy found Coby's magazines.





* * * ©2002 Anais Ninja anais_ninja@hotmail.com





It was the week the man from the oil company came to the ranch, hoping

to get Daddy to sign over the mineral rights. I remember seeing that

big black car driving up the road, the man in the suit stepping out,

the reflection of the sunlight off his aviator shades.



I soon learned his name -- Mr. James Phillips, Esq. of the West Texas

Oil and Gas Consortium -- and why he was here. He and Daddy talked in

the kitchen, and after I served them coffee I couldn't help but stare

at this handsome businessman. He was taller than Daddy, with a full

head of perfectly groomed silver hair, not a lock out of place, icy

gray eyes that looked right through a person, same color as his suit.

Being a Texan, of course he wore cowboy boots. Unlike Daddy's, these

were finely tooled black leather, boots that never stepped in cow shit.

I stood next to the icebox, taking my fill of this handsome stranger's

looks until Daddy barked at me to get busy. Even so, I sat right

outside the kitchen and eavesdropped.



Daddy had some weird notions about drilling on the ranch, that it would

release poison gas that would kill his herd, or make sinkholes that

could snap a bull's leg. On top of that, Daddy didn't trust anyone,

much less some stranger in a suitcoat with a briefcase full of blank

contracts. Mr. Phillips had heard it all though, and he gave as good as

he got.



In the end it was the money that sealed the deal, cash up front plus a

percentage of production. Even if nothing was found, Daddy would get

the same as a year's income, after taxes. The tax part got Daddy in

the mood to start ranting about the government, and soon he had his

bottle out and was bending the ear of that poor oil man. Mr. Phillips

took it in stride, but he excused himself and left the first chance he

had. I sneaked upstairs to my bedroom and watched him drive away.



The surveyors were coming the next day, so Daddy, Arlen, and Coby got

busy mending the north fence. Actually, Arlen and Coby did the

mending, while Daddy sat in the truck and drank. My brothers got tired

of his "supervision", so they sent him back to the house to get some

more nails from the shed.



Coby had a separate stash of porno, hidden beneath a loose floorboard

in the toolshed, an area that he was responsible for. Daddy had gone

in to look for the nails and he stepped on the board, taking a closer

look when he felt it creak under his foot. Daddy had never seen that

sort of thing in his life, glossy pictures of men with men, doing

things he never imagined.



I was in the kitchen cooking dinner when I heard him slam the toolshed

door so hard that a hinge broke. He stormed off in the truck, the

skidding wheels throwing up tails of loose gravel and dirt. I ran

out to the shed and saw the loose board, torn magazines on the floor.

As soon as I saw the pictures I knew what had happened. I ran around

the house and got my bicycle, madly peddling across the ranch to

the north fence.



It took nearly ten heart-pounding minutes to get there, and I was so

out of breath that I could barely see. But I felt like screaming when

I saw Coby laying in the weeds by the fence, Daddy standing over him

and Arlen trying to hold Daddy back. When I got closer I could see

Coby's face was bloody. He wasn't moving. My heart stopped for a

second, thinking his was stopped forever. I rushed to his side while

Arlen and Daddy hollered at each other.



"Coby! Coby!" I screamed. I knew not to move him or anything, so I

knelt next to him and felt for a pulse on his neck. He was alive,

breathing, but his nose was bloodied, his lip was split, and his right

eye was starting to swell up.



"He's still alive goddammit," Daddy said, spitting at his youngest son.



"You tried to kill him, you bastard!" Arlen shouted. He had Daddy in

an armlock, the only thing keeping Coby alive at the moment. Suddenly,

Daddy jerked backwards, slamming Arlen against the side of the truck.

Arlen was stunned for a second and loosened his grip, letting Daddy

lunge forward. Slapping me out of the way with the back of his hand,

he grabbed Coby by the collar and picked him up, throwing him in the

back of the truck. Arlen tried to stop him, but Daddy slugged him

hard, knocking him to the ground. Daddy revved the truck and slipped

it in gear, driving back to the house. Coby, still knocked out,

bounced around in the bed of the pickup as it roared down the rutted

path.



"Jolene, you okay?" Arlen said.



"Yeah, I'm okay. Take my bike, Arlen. Don't let Daddy kill him."



Arlen just looked at me for a second with the fear in his eyes. He

knew what Daddy could do. He jumped on my old bicycle and started off

for the house. I sat on the ground, my cheek hurting from Daddy's

slap, my heart pounding for Coby. I wanted to cry but there wasn't

time for that. I ran down the path for the house.



It took me twenty minutes to reach the house. I slipped in through the

kitchen door. It was too quiet. I took comfort in the fact that I

didn't hear any shots or anything while I ran back, but I expected to

hear some screaming at least. I tiptoed across the kitchen and down

the hall towards the sitting room. As I rounded the corner, I saw

Daddy, lying on the rug next to the couch, unconscious. Arlen stood

over him, the broken neck of a bourbon bottle in his fist. There was

glass all over the rug and the room reeked of liquor.



Daddy's dick was out, hanging limply from his fly. Coby was face-down

on the couch, his pants around his ankles. On the other hand, he was

very much alive, sobbing into a cushion.



"Is he...?" I asked Arlen.



"No, he's still alive. I just whacked him with the bottle," he

replied, dropping the jagged bottleneck. I ran over to Coby and

held him, while he sobbed into my shoulder. Then I brought him into

the kitchen and washed the blood from his face. His eye was nearly

swollen shut and his lip was still bleeding. He sat there

silently while I gently cleaned and dressed his cuts and scrapes.



"Daddy was raping him when I got there," Arlen said. "I just

snuck up behind him and whacked him."



"Is he still out?" I asked.



"Yep."



"You gotta take Coby and get out of here," I said. "Take the truck."



"Where? What about you?"



"Don't worry 'bout me. I'll be okay."



"I ain't leaving you, Jolene," Arlen insisted.



"You are. And I'm gonna keep Daddy from going after you. Gonna

give you a head start," I said.



"Where we gonna go? We ain't got enough money to get to the

county line."



"C'mere. Let me show you something." I led Arlen and Coby up to

Daddy's bedroom. I opened the closet door and reached up into

the back of the top shelf, pulling out the old family Bible.

It was Mama's, handed down from her Mama's Mama. She left it

when she ran off with that preacher. Guess she didn't need it

anymore.



"That's Mama's Bible," Coby said. I opened it.



Daddy had cut the middle out of the inner pages, a square space

big enough for a wad of cash. A big wad of cash. Arlen's eyes

widened when he saw it.



"There's $1642 here, last time I counted it," I said. I was

responsible for doing the housework, dusting and sweeping, so I

knew all of Daddy's hiding places. I even knew he had a picture

of Mama hidden in his wedding suit.



We sat on Daddy's bed and divided the money. I gave Arlen $1000

for him and Coby, keeping $500 for myself. I tucked the remainder

back in the Bible and opened it to the back. There was a section

for recording family events: births, marriages, deaths. I tore

the pages out and handed it to Arlen.



"Mama's got family in Tulsa. That's only a day or so away. They're

all written down here. You find them, you tell them Daddy's a mean

old drunk now. Don't say nothing 'bout Coby," I said. Arlen took

the yellowed pages.



"You thought about this before Jolene?" he said.



"Every day for four years." That was the truth.



"Daddy might kill you," Coby said.



"Maybe, maybe not," I said. "But take his shotgun shells anyway."



"How are we gonna find you? Or you find us?" Arlen asked. His voice

had an edge of panic, like he'd never see me again.



"I've got Aunt Beth's address in Tulsa," I said. Hers was the most

recent entry in the family history, a record of the birth of her son

five years ago, along with her address and a notation that a card and

bouquet of flowers was sent.



"I still think you should come with us," Coby said.



"I want to make sure Daddy's okay," I replied. "He's our Daddy."

That settled the matter. He was a mean old bastard, bitter as a

rotten radish, but he was our father.



I hugged Coby, then Arlen, then both of them. Arlen helped me drag

Daddy into a chair where I could dress the cuts in his scalp. They

didn't look too bad. I let Daddy snore in the armchair while I

helped Arlen and Coby pack some clothes and food. Then I helped them

load the pickup truck.



"I'll see you soon, squirt," Arlen said, hugging me. I squirmed out

of his embrace and gave him a playful jab in the ribs. We laughed

together like we hadn't laughed for years, since Mama left. Then

Arlen got serious.



"I love you, Jolene," he said. My eyes clouded up and I hugged him

again, yielding to him when he kissed me on the lips. I kissed Coby,

too, but that was more of a sister-brother kiss, no tongue. His lips

were still tender from Daddy's fist.



I stood in the drive and watched the truck recede into the distance.

After the sound of tires on gravel faded, I turned and walked back

into the house, the warm trails of tears engraved in my cheeks.



Daddy was still unconscious, snoring loudly despite the fact that his

mouth was open. I felt like grabbing his tongue and ripping it from

his throat. Instead, I went to the kitchen and got the first aid kit

I'd used to dress Coby's battered face. I walked back downstairs, got

a chair from the kitchen, and sat next to Daddy, pulling shards of

glass from his bald pate with a pair of tweezers.



"Mmph! What th'? Fuck!" Daddy sputtered, after I poured half a

bottle of peroxide over his head. "Damn! That fuckin' stings!"



I handed him a towel and he blotted his foaming cuts with it,

staring at the pink marks on the white linen, his own diluted

blood. Then he looked up at me.



"Where are they?" he asked, his anger burning in his eyes like

a wildfire. "Dammit, Jolene. Where the fuck are they?" I just

stared back at him, indifferent.



"Dammit Jolene! Where the fuck did they go!" Daddy grabbed me

by the arm and shook me, slapping me when I remained silent.

He threw me against the couch and ran out of the house, screaming

like a madman when he saw his truck was missing. I could taste

blood on my lips and began to fear for myself. Maybe Coby was

right. Then Daddy came back inside.



For the next hour, Daddy threw me around the house. Literally.

He'd pick me up and toss me like a bail of hay. I'd bounce off

a wall or sprawl on the floor, limp like a rag doll. Then he'd

pick me up again. He managed to get me upstairs, into his bed,

with a combination of throwing, dragging, and pulling.



By this time he was finished screaming, working silently as he

ripped the clothes off my body. My mother's yellow sundress, an

old frock I had altered for myself, lay in tatters on the floor.

He ripped my bra and panties off so hard, the breaking elastic

left red marks on my thighs, waist, and shoulders. He wrestled

off his own clothes, pinning me to his bed with his knees and

elbows as he forced himself inside me. I looked down and saw

his cock, still streaked with blood from Coby's lips, hard and

red and angry like Daddy's face.



There was no point in reasoning with him, no point in arguing,

bargaining, resisting. He'd stopped slapping me and had his rough

hands around my neck. I could see it in his eyes, murder in his

eyes, like he could wring my neck like a chicken's. I let him

push inside me, even though I was dry and it hurt. Every time his

cock twitched inside me he'd tighten his grip on my neck, and

I nearly blacked out a couple of times. Finally he came, squirting

his hot seed inside me.



But Daddy wasn't done with me. He stayed on top of me, inside me,

while he swigged bourbon from the bottle he kept next to his bed.

I felt him growing hard again inside me, and soon he was thrusting

slowly while he drank. His semen lubricated me, but when I started

to thrust back, he put down the bottle and slapped me hard.



"You ain't supposed to like this, Janelle!" he screamed. Janelle

was Mama's name. He slapped me again and pulled out of my sore

pussy.



"Bitch! Whore! Good for nothin' slut!" He jerked me up by the arm

and turned me over, on to my belly, slapping my face, the back of

my head, and my bottom as he did so. Then I felt him on top of me,

his hard cock between my cheeks.



"Daddy! Please! No!" I pleaded.



"Fuckin' slut whore..." Daddy said. His cock pressed against my anus.



"Ow, Daddy! No!" I felt like I was being split open as his fat prick

entered my bottom.



"Take it, bitch!"



"Daddy!"



"Take it!"



"Daaaaaaddddyyy!!"



"Bitch!"



But my pleading only stoked the fires of his anger and lust. I just

lay there as he hurt my bottom, thinking about something Arlen had said

once, something about "taking one for the team". I thought it was

funny when he said that, considering he'd never been on a team in his

life, being home-schooled by Mama and then spending all day working for

Daddy on the ranch. Then I realized what he meant by that, and I knew

I'd see him and Coby again some day.



Daddy grunted when he came, and settled on top of me. He fell asleep

like that, and I struggled to breathe for an hour until he rolled off

me.



While he snored in his bed, I took a shower and packed my suitcase.

When I checked on Daddy, he was still asleep. Then I took a long hot

bath, followed by another shower. I fell asleep in my own bed, my door

propped shut with a chair.



I didn't sleep well that night. After waking up about a half-dozen

times I finally gave up, taking another shower before the sun was even

up. I was drying off after my second shower of the morning when I

heard Daddy stumble downstairs. I looked at my battered face in the

mirror. My lips were swollen and there was a fingernail mark on my

cheek. Perfect.



I stayed upstairs, listening to Daddy try to make coffee for himself.

Just after seven, I heard the sound of the oil company's surveyors,

three trucks slowly rolling up the road to the house. Daddy was out

there to greet them, all smiles and handshakes. They left for the

north side of the ranch, Daddy riding in the lead truck.



A few minutes later I heard a different set of tires on the gravel

road. It was Jim Phillips's car, the big black sedan with tinted

glass. He pulled to a stop in our drive, right next to the porch. As

he stepped out of his car, I saw him talking on a small black cell

phone. I saw my chance.



I grabbed the suitcase I'd packed the night before, running down the

stairs. The screen door banged shut behind me and I stood on the

porch, wearing my Mama's best pink dress and holding one of her old

valises. Mr. Phillips looked at me, said something into his phone,

and folded it up, putting it into the breast pocket of his suit.



"Where you going, little lady?" he said in a Dallas drawl. Then the

bruises on my face registered. He straightened up.



"That card you gave my Daddy said 'James Phillips, Esq.' on it. Does

that mean you're a lawyer?"



"Yes, ma'am," he replied.



"Lawyers usually need a retainer. A sum of money up front, right?"



"Yes, ma'am. Usually."



"Is this enough?" I pulled the wad of $500 from my purse and held

it up.



"Get in," he said. I ran down the steps and opened the passenger side

door. He got in, started the car, and roared down the road.



"Lawyers and clients have something called 'privilege', right?" I asked.



"That's right, but there are exceptions, like for minor children. How

old are you?"



"Sixteen," I lied.



"How old are you?"



"Fifteen. In two weeks," I said. He looked at me again, trying to

look past the bruises.



"Shit," he muttered. We pulled off the ranch road and on to the county

highway. His big black BMW purred over the asphalt. "Tell me. What

did he do to you?"



I started at the beginning, right after Mama left, telling him

everything, even about Arlen and Coby and me. He pulled over to the

side of the road and started taking notes on a big yellow pad of paper.

When he was done writing, he pulled back onto the road and drove to his

motel. The nearest one was fifty miles from Daddy's ranch, so it took

an hour. He got me my own room, and while I took another shower, he

settled down in his own room, talking on his phone while he looked at

the notes he had taken.



After my shower, I put on my Mama's pink dress again and knocked on Mr.

Phillips' door. There was no answer, so I opened the door and walked

in. He was sitting on the bed, still talking on the phone, but he'd

taken off his suit and put on a bathrobe while I was in the shower. I

walked over to the bed and sat down next to him, my diary in my hand.



"That's right. The Gates ranch. Dry holes. I know we just sent the

team out there today. Trust me, it's dry," he said. The Gates ranch.

That was Daddy's ranch. I didn't know what a "dry hole" was, and at

first I thought Mr. Phillips was talking about me. Then I figured out

that he was talking about drilling on the ranch. I sat next to him

on the big, firm bed, waiting patiently while he talked on the phone

and took notes on his big yellow notepad, looking around the motel

room. Everything was so clean and new, and the bed was so firm. My

mattress at home was so thin and lumpy.



Mr. Phillips finished his call and hung up the phone, making a few

last notes on his pad. Then he put the paper and pen down and took a

long look at me.



"I've got to take some pictures of your bruises while they're still

fresh," he said, taking a small silver camera from his briefcase.

I nodded and stood up, unzipping the back of my dress. I shrugged

out of the sleeves and let the dress drop to my feet. Underneath,

I wore one of Mama's old slips, and I pulled it up over my head.

I wasn't wearing a bra, and Mr. Phillips shook his head when he

saw the bruises on my budding breasts from Daddy's rough fingers.

I skinned off my panties, an old white cotton pair, exposing the

bruises on my labia and bottom.



Mr. Phillips took pictures of my face and body, with plenty of close-

up shots of my breasts and pussy. I knew this was a necessary part

of making sure Daddy wouldn't hurt me again, but I was getting a bit

aroused while I posed for this handsome man.



"Sorry," he said, after I had gasped when his arm brushed against my

breast. I felt gooseflesh on my arms and thighs and my nipples

puckered and stiffened.



"That's okay," I said. I felt myself get wetter down there, and while

he took more pictures of my back and bottom, I slipped a finger inside

my cunny, gently teasing my clit. I was still sore, so I couldn't rub

very hard.



"Okay, turn around again," he said. I pulled my finger out of my pussy

and complied. His robe had loosened, and I got a peek of his penis,

half-hard and bigger than Daddy's. He noticed my gaze and re-tied his

bathrobe.



"I wouldn't mind seeing you, Mr. Phillips," I said. "Only fair."



"It's not right, Jolene," he said. His face started getting flushed.



"Please?" I said, walking over to him and untying his robe. He made

a half-hearted attempt to stop me, but changed his mind. After I

opened his robe, he shrugged it off and it pooled around his feet.

I stepped close to him, his stiffening cock pressed against my thigh

as I ran my hands over his chest and belly. He was tall and lean,

like Arlen, but with broader shoulders and graying hair on his chest.



His cock came to life, pressing between my thighs as I tongued his

nipples. I planted a trail of kisses, down his chest, past his belly,

until I was kneeling at his feet. I bunched up his robe beneath my

knees and looked up at his throbbing cock. It was thick and veiny,

and didn't have that extra skin. His balls were like big ripe plums,

one hanging slightly lower than the other. I cupped them gently in

my palm, taking his cock in my other hand and aiming it at my lips.



He gasped when he felt my warm mouth and soft lips on his cock. I took

him as deep as I could, but could only take half of him in my mouth

without gagging. My fingers glided over the rest of his veiny shaft,

making his hardness twitch and dance in my mouth. He tasted cleaner

than Daddy or my brothers, and his graying nest of pubic hair smelled

of soap instead of sweat.



I glanced up at him while I sucked his cock, seeing his eyes closed

and mouth open, his broad chest heaving as he breathed. As I bathed

his hard cock with my tongue he looked down and smiled, placing his

hand on my cheek and gently caressing it. His hips rocked slightly,

pushing his penis in and out of my lips. I let go of his balls,

using both hands to stroke his shaft as he fucked my face. His

nut sack swayed between his legs, sometimes hitting me in the chin.

I would have giggled, because his hair tickled, but my mouth was full

of his beautiful cock.



Though I'd never sucked him before, I could tell he was getting close

to coming by the way his cock tensed and relaxed in my mouth, the

heaviness of his breathing, the movement of his hips. Sure enough, he

groaned and held my head in his hands as he came, his penis spurting

his thick, hot spunk in my mouth. He must have been saving it up

for a while, because I thought he'd never stop coming. I swallowed

what I could, but some leaked out of my mouth, down my chin, and on

to my belly, forming a trail that ran between my legs.



Mr. Phillips hips slowed after he came, and I kept his cock in my mouth

as it softened, hungry for the last drops of his yummy cream. He let

go of my head and gently pulled me to my feet, leaning down to kiss me

on the lips. This was something Daddy never did after I sucked him,

and Arlen only rarely. I knew he could taste his own cum on my lips,

but he didn't seem to mind. He was a really good kisser, too.



After we kissed, I lay down on the big bed, amazed at how firm and flat

it was. Mr. Phillips just stood next to the bed, looking at my body.

Then he sat on the edge of the bed and gently touched my breasts. I'd

filled out a bit by then, but they were still a girl's little peaches,

not like a grown-up lady's breasts. Mr. Phillips didn't seem to mind.

While he ran his hands over them, I reached down between my legs and

parted my puffy lips. A twinge of pain from my bruises made me wince.



"What's wrong?" he asked.



"I'm sore down there. Could you rub some lotion on it?" I said.



Mr. Phillips smiled and chuckled, getting up from the bed. He returned

from the bathroom with two small bottles. I'd seen these in the

bathroom of my own motel room and I thought they'd been left by the

previous occupant. Now I realized that the motel provided them, along

with the tiny soaps and the glasses wrapped in paper.



"Which one?" he asked. There was a bath oil and a moisturizer. I

pointed to the latter.



"Could you do my back first?" I said, rolling over on my belly.



"Sure." I heard him squirt some lotion on his hands and rub them

together. Then I felt his hands on my shoulders. I moved my hair out

of the way as he gently massaged my back and neck, slowly working lower

and lower. He gave my bruised tailbone a wide berth. Daddy had thrown

me to the floor so hard that the skin down there was scraped raw as well

as bruised.



Then I felt his hands on my bottom and I shivered with delight, the

goose bumps rising on my skin betraying the pleasure I felt. His hands

were big and strong like Daddy's, but not nearly as rough. Daddy never

touched me like this, either. Daddy would only touch me to pull me

on to his prick or push me off after he came. Mr. Phillips was

touching me like his hands were making love to my skin.



"That feels so good," I whispered as his hands explored the back of my

thighs. I shivered again when I felt him kiss the back of my legs,

right behind my knees. I never knew a kiss there could feel so sweet.



"Turn over," he said. He poured more lotion on his hands and began

with my legs this time, working his way up. He gently kissed both

of my skinned knees and bruised shins. I parted my legs as he worked

his way up my thighs, kissing first and then massaging and caressing.



"Ooh, Mr. Phillips," I moaned as his lips touched my pussy.



"Call me Jim," he laughed. I felt his hot breath against my sex and

I shivered again.



"Okay, Mr. Phillips," I giggled. He laughed and tickled me down there

with his finger, making me jump. I thought he was going to tickle me

again, but he pressed his lips against my cunny and I felt his tongue

part my lips and press into my hole. I arched my back as his tongue

probed me. It felt as big as Coby's stiffy, only thicker and wetter.

He worked my pussy up and down, tasting my juices and teasing my clit

from its hood.



Jim cupped my bottom in his hands as he drank my juices, lifting my

hips to his face as he lashed my sex with his tongue. I squirmed

in his strong but gentle grip, my legs tensing and relaxing as he

licked me. Until then, I thought Coby was good. This was amazing.

I wondered how many women he'd done this to, how many pussies felt

this wonderful tongue. Then he began to suck on my clit like it

was a tiny little cock, closing his lips around it and teasing it

with his tongue, something that never occurred to Coby. It drove

me right over the edge, and I began to thrash wildly in his hands

as I came. He never let up, though, even when I clamped his head

between my thighs, screaming and shuddering on the big, firm bed.



Finally, he stopped. My climax faded, the tremors in my thighs

stopped, and I lay back on the bed. Jim crawled up from between

my legs and lay next to me, holding me in his arms. We lay like

that for a long time, a couple of hours at least. I felt safe

for the first time since Mama left.



We took a shower together and I went back to my room to take a nap

while he made some more phone calls. Then he woke me up with a

kiss and watched me get dressed for dinner. We walked to the

restaurant next to the motel, a steak house. I reached for his hand

and held it as we walked. I was wearing a nice skirt and blouse,

my hair was brushed out instead of in pigtails, and I even had

a pair of Mama's nylons on. I felt like a grown-up lady with her

handsome date.



After we ordered dinner, I asked Jim all sorts of questions about

his life and his job. He spent a lot of time traveling, not just

around Texas, but all over the world. He'd been married for a few

years, but since his divorce ten years ago he hadn't remarried. I

asked him what he did for companionship, but he was sort of

evasive about it, mumbling something about "the services of a

skilled professional". I didn't know what he meant by that, so I

didn't press the point. Besides, our food arrived just then.



I hadn't eaten since breakfast, Jim's semen excepted, so I gorged

myself. Maybe it was not having three other hungry mouths to

compete with at the table. I finished a whole steak and baked

potato, some bread, dessert, and Jim's salad. He smiled as he

watched me eat. He had some coffee and paid the bill, and we

walked back to the motel. Instead of holding hands, I took his

arm like a lady would.



"Can I stay with you tonight?" I asked, at the door to my room.



"Sure, if you'd like," he said, hesitating for a moment.



We walked into his room and I noticed my diary was open on the desk.



"Sorry, I couldn't help but read some of it," he said.



"That's okay. It's why I brought it over. I figured you'd have

to ask me a lot of questions. Easier if you just read that."



"I'll have to ask some questions, anyway."



"I know," I said. Jim took off his suit jacket and went to the little

fridge, pulling out a tray of ice. He twisted it into a plastic

bucket, making the cubes clatter and rattle.



"Can I get you a soda pop? Water?" he asked.



"Could I have a bourbon on ice?" Jim looked at me funny for a second.

He knew my Daddy got me liquored up before fucking me, and all that

my request implied. He had a funny smirk on his face as he unwrapped

a second glass, adding ice and emptying one of those small plastic

bottles of bourbon into it. He handed the glass to me, sitting next

to me on the bed with his drink. He picked up the phone, checking

something he called "voicemail", making a couple of notes on his pad.



I sipped my drink and watched him. He was a lefty, his hand curled

around a pen that looked like one of Mama's bracelets, jade and

gold. He wrote fast but legibly, and though I was a few feet away,

I could make out a few words, like "custody" and "abandonment". He

pressed a button on the phone and hung up, putting his pen and pad

aside and taking a sip of his drink.



"Jolene, honey," he said, "what do you want to do?"



I thought about this, staring at the motel carpet, so nice and plush.

My whole focus had been on getting away from Daddy, and I hadn't

given much thought about what came after that. I did have a fantasy

of what my life would have been like if I hadn't been born on the

ranch.



Perversely enough, the kernel of this fantasy was a story in one of

those "Family Letters" magazines that I'd read for Daddy. It was

about a girl like me, except she was growing up on a farm in Iowa

instead of a ranch in Texas, and her Mama was still living with the

family. But the best part of the story is how she sucked the cock

of the State University's admissions officer, with the help of her

Mama and her little sister. She gets a full scholarship and earns

a degree in English Literature. The story was called "Oral Exam".



What I liked about the story wasn't the sex, though that was pretty

hot and I learned something new as well. It was how the writer was

so proud that she graduated and had her degree, her ticket off the

farm.



"I want to be safe from Daddy," I said. "I want to go to a real

school, be a normal girl, go to college, maybe." Jim smiled and

nodded when he heard this.



"I want to be with you, too," I said, reaching for his hand, holding

it tight. He squeezed it, leaning over to kiss me. My lips parted

for his tongue, teasing it with my own, sucking it like a little

cock. My hand explored his lap, searching for the serpent I knew

was lurking between his legs. I found his hardness and grasped it

gently. The material of his boxers and trousers added to its girth.

I thought about what he would feel like inside me and I felt my face

flush. There was a growing fire between my legs that only one thing

could extinguish.



We broke off our kiss to undress. I sat on the edge of the bed and

unbuttoned Jim's trousers while he took off his shirt and tie. He

stepped out of his loafers and then I slowly lowered his boxer shorts,

giggling as his cock sprung to attention. I kissed his penis and

gave him a few loving licks and then it was my turn.



Jim sat on the bed while I stood before him, slowly unbuttoning my

blouse. I freed my little titties from the soft cup bra, and Jim

leaned forward to suck and nibble on my nipples, making them nice

and hard and wet. I stood there, eyes closed, savoring the feeling

of his soft tongue until my knees began to weaken. We laughed

about that, and then I turned around so he could unzip my skirt.

It was one of Mama's old ones, a gray pleated skirt that I'd shortened

and taken in at the waist. Jim slowly pulled the zipper down, letting

the skirt fall to the carpet. I felt his hands on my bottom, caressing

the silky material of my panties. Then his hands were on my waist,

turning me around. I stood between his legs as he gazed at my body.



"You're beautiful, Jolene," he whispered. I thought his eyes were a

bit glassy, like he was going to cry or something. Instead, he pulled

me up on to his lap so I was straddling his waist and kissed me again.

I felt his erection against the crotch of my panties, and I reached

down to feel how wet I was. As my fingertip brushed past my clit, I

shuddered. Jim looked down and saw my hand in my panties and smiled.



"You're a real randy one," he chuckled, squeezing my bottom with his

strong hands. I pulled my hand out of my panties and reached for his

cock, still pressing against my crotch. I gave him a few strokes and

then pulled my panties aside and pressed the tip against my pussy.



"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, looking me straight in the eye.



"Yes, I want to feel you inside me," I whispered in his ear, as I

slowly settled down on his hardness. I caught my breath when the fat

head of his cock hit a sore spot, but I kept pushing down with my hips

until he filled me. I looked down at his cock. Only the base of his

shaft was visible. The rest was inside me, filling my pussy. I looked

up at Jim, trying to read his expression.



"How does it feel?" he asked. "Are you still sore?"



"A little," I said, gently rocking my hips.



"Take it slow and easy, then," he said. "You're so tight. I might

come any minute." I could feel him twitch inside me, like he was about

to go off.



"That's okay. We have all night," I said, kissing the tip of his nose.

I rocked my hips a little faster, closing my eyes as he leaned into my

chest and began to suckle my puffy nipples. I was getting close to

coming when I felt his cock twitch again, the head flaring inside my

pussy as he began to spurt.



"Ooh! I can feel it!" I said, as he erupted inside me, hot jets of

spunk shooting against my cervix. I tightened my pussy around his

shaft, trying to milk him with my sex. I looked up at him and kissed

him. His face was red and flushed.



"Sorry, I couldn't hold back," he murmured. I giggled and kissed him

again, giving his cock another squeeze with my pussy. I playfully

pushed him back on the bed and rested my head on his chest, listening

to his heartbeat and feeling his softening cock slip out of my cunny.



Without a word, he rolled me over on to my back and pulled me down on

the bed so my legs hung off the edge. Kneeling on the carpet, he

pulled my panties down my thighs and off my legs. Then he spread my

knees apart and kissed my messy twat.



"Jim, no..." I started to say. But when I felt his mouth on my

dripping cunny, ravishing me with his tongue and drinking my juices and

his own sperm, I closed my eyes and submitted to his hungry mouth. I

ran my fingers through his hair as he cleaned my sex with his tongue

and then began to concentrate on my clit. He'd circle my pearl with

the tip of his tongue, then he'd lash right over it, making me gasp and

shudder.



I felt him probe my hole with a finger, then another finger pressed

against my bottom. My crack was slick with the semen and juices that

had dripped out of my pussy, and his finger slid into my ass easily.

He kept bathing my clit with his tongue as his fingers sawed in and

out of my holes, pressing together inside me. When his knuckle hit

a spot on the roof of my vagina I came so hard I nearly blacked out.



Jim's mouth clamped against my pussy as my hips began to thrust

involuntarily, trying to fuck his probing fingers. He began to

move them in and out and he hit that spot again, making my thighs

quiver and my toes curl. I lost track of how many times I came.

Maybe it was just one big orgasm. Finally, I had to tug on his

shoulder to make him stop. It was getting too intense.



"Wow," I said, my voice hoarse from moaning and screaming. Jim

looked up from my pussy, his face wet with my juices. He got

up and knelt over me and we kissed. I could taste myself on his

lips, just as he tasted his semen in my pussy. I reached down for

his cock, half-hard and dangling between his legs. I felt it

stiffen as I stroked it.



"Lay back," he said, pulling me back on the bed so my legs weren't

dangling over the edge. He knelt between my thighs, his hard cock

pointing at my cunny. I reached down and guided him inside me again.



"So pretty," he whispered as he pushed forward with his hips, sinking

his cock into me. It went in easier this time, and there was hardly

any soreness. Instead of lying on top of me and humping like Daddy

did, Jim supported himself with his knees and elbows. I liked it

better this way, because I could look down and see his shaft going

in and out of my pussy. Also, I could breathe a lot better and I

could actually move my bottom to meet his thrusts instead of just

lay there, pinned to the bed.



And unlike Daddy, Jim liked to see me come. It made him smile and

fuck me harder so I'd come some more. He'd kiss me and lick my

nipples, holding my bottom as his prick slammed into me, filling

me with his hot, thick meat.



Without that foreskin that Daddy had, I could feel every vein and

ridge on Jim's penis as it pumped my pussy. His cock head was

nice and fleshy, the fat ridge along the top rubbing against that

special spot. His shaft had a nice thick muscle along the under-

side, and I could feel it stretching me whenever his cock twitched.



"Ungh!" I moaned, as another orgasm hit. I bucked and thrashed

under him, lifting my ass off the bed to meet his hips, wanting

to feel all of him inside my spasming pussy. He cupped my

bottom in his hands and lifted me off the bed, grinding his

cock into my sex.



"Come for me, Daddy," I gasped, not realizing what I'd said until

he looked at me funny. Then he started to fuck me harder, holding

my hips and slamming his fat prick into my snatch. My pussy

tightened around his cock like a fist and he let out a short grunt

before he began to fill me with his sperm. He stopped thrusting

as his cock erupted inside my cunny, adding to the load he'd left

before.



"You called me 'Daddy'," he said after he gently laid me back on the

bed. He was still on top of me, inside me, but I could feel him

start to soften and slip out.



"Sorry," I said, moving my hips to keep him inside me. It was a losing

battle, though. His cock slipped out of me, followed by a thick stream

of semen.



"No, don't be," he said, kissing me. "I'd love to have a sexy daughter

like you." He rolled off me and lay next to me, caressing my tummy

and nibbling at my earlobes. That last thing made me shiver, like I'd

come again if he kept doing that. Instead, I curled up between his legs

and cleaned his sticky cock with my tongue. When I was done, he held me

in his arms and we slept together until morning.





* * *



The next day we started driving to Dallas, passing through Midland

and stopping in Abilene for the night. We stayed in a high-rise

hotel that night, and I spent almost as much time looking out the

window at the lights of the city as I did in bed with Jim. He

laughed at how fascinated I was, telling me that I'd love Dallas.



He was right. It was early evening on the next day when we

arrived at Jim's home. The setting sun reflected off the tall

buildings, and there was a bright orange flash in the sky as

the sun streaked off a shiny silver jet plane that climbed

over the orange glass towers. Everything was so shiny and clean.



Jim's house was in a neighborhood of big houses and tall trees,

taller than anything I'd seen in West Texas. It was a sprawling

one-story house with a pool in the back yard and a fireplace in

the living room. I had my own room, a guest room with a big four

poster bed, but most of the time I slept with him.



Arlen and Coby made it to Aunt Beth's house in Tulsa, but she

had a full house. Arlen found a job as a rigger on a drilling

crew, learned how to read somewhere, took his GED exam, and joined

the Army. He signed up for a second tour and last I heard was at

Ranger School at Ft. Benning in Georgia.



Coby got passed on to Aunt Tilly, who also lived in Tulsa

but was 87 years old and senile. Coby changed her diapers and

gave her sponge baths until she passed away, and he split for New

Orleans and then San Francisco. His letters said that he was

really happy working as an "art designer", whatever that was.

I saw my brothers once more. During my first year of living with

Mr. Phillips I received the news that our Mama had passed away.

It had happened only a few weeks after we left Daddy. The preacher

she had run away with had presided over the funeral in Arkansas

but made sure she was buried in our hometown. I guess he wanted

her to be near us but didn't know we all ran away. Maybe those

were her last wishes. Anyway, I got to see Coby and Arlen again

when we had a small, private graveside service. There was no

minister present; we wanted to keep it a secret so Daddy wouldn't

show up.

We brought flowers for her grave and then we each tried to

remember something about her. It was hard for me. I sort of

blamed her for leaving us but I couldn't really blame her for

leaving Daddy. We'd done it, too. Mr. Phillips called that

"ambivalence". I felt like I missed out on so much schooling

if I didn't have a proper word for all my feelings.



Jim Phillips hired a tutor for me and sent me to prep school

for two years. He managed to get guardianship of me by telling

my Daddy that I had a diary. But what really shut Daddy up was

the whole drilling thing. Jim could say that Daddy's ranch was

all dry holes and there was nothing he could do about it. The

loss of his children was more than compensated by this passive

source of income. Daddy eventually sold all the livestock and

let the ranch go to seed, living off the income from the gas

Jim's company pumped.



It didn't surprise me to hear that Daddy shot himself. Jim drove

me back to identify the body, and he made arrangements for the

burial. There was no funeral, no graveside service. A simple

stone marked the grave, a plot next to my mother's. I brought

flowers for her and a small bottle of bourbon for him.



The last thing I did before leaving town for the last time was

to deliver an affidavit to the county sheriff, a brief account

of the hell my brothers and I had been through. The fire at

the County Courthouse, the abuse, the rape, the beatings. The

sheriff couldn't look me in the eye. Bastard.



And that's why I'm majoring in criminology when I go off to UT

next year. There's a girl like me in every town in this state.



And I'm going to find her.







END





©2002 Anais Ninja

anais_ninja@hotmail.com