The Mouths of Babes

"Could you...could you pull your pants down, please?" she asked Mr. McKinney.

Angrily he complied. His erection sprung free, long and kind of narrow. The top looked a bit like a half melted marshmallow, round edges at the top with a ridge dividing it from the brown shaft. Below that he had a dark pair of testicles nestled in wiry black hair. Katie had seen enough America's Funniest Home Videos to know that testicles are very sensitive. The man in the movie instructed one of the girls to lick his.

Katie wasn't sure she was ready for that. She decided to start with the tip, which seemed to be straining toward her. She bent over and licked experimentally. It tasted salty and kind of tart. She opened her mouth again and covered the entire tip.

"Ow! Be careful with your teeth!" Mr. McKinney snapped.

"I'm sorry! Oh! Sorry. I haven't done this before."

"That's fucking obvious," Mr. McKinney spat.

Katie fretted. She was doing a bad job of this. She should have practiced on something. A banana. Something. She dropped to her knees, moving between his legs. His cock was at face level now. She decided to move her focus to the shaft, maybe he'd like that better. Tentatively wrapping her thumb and index finger around it, she dragged it up and down softly, feeling the elasticity of his skin as it moved with her fingers over the underlying muscle.

"Harder," he grunted. She tightened the circle, pumping enthusiastically. She leaned forward to touch her tongue to the tip again. Holding her tongue out, she let the little divot on his head run along her tastebuds. She shifted, feeling the wet fabric of her panties stick and rub her vagina. She thought she would die of pleasure.

Mr. McKinney still looked like he wanted to backhand her, but his straining body belied his distaste. His cold eyes and clenched jaw might be telegraphing his disgust, but soon his hand was rising to cup her behind the neck and ease her mouth down more fully. She complied.

"Ouch, fuck, you did it again!" he hissed when her teeth grazed him.

Katie didn't know what to do. For a second it had been going so well. She looked over her shoulder at the movie and saw a woman had mounted the man differently. She had crawled over him in the opposite direction, aligning her face with his manhood and putting her sex near his face. From that angle she was able to easily take his penis deep into her throat.

"Let me try it another way," she told Mr. McKinney. "Would you lay out on the couch again? Like you were when I came in here."

"I'd rather fucking not," said Mr. McKinney, even as he swiveled around and stretched back. Katie pulled his pants off entirely and inspected him. His entire body was covered in coarse, dark hair. She wanted to press her naked body against it.

"Should I take my shirt off?" she asked, hopefully.

"No. Fuck no. If you have to do this, just get it done. I'm not doing a thing except laying here until you say I can go."

Katie drew herself up, offended. "Fine. Act like you aren't enjoying this. I know you are." She went around to the arm of the couch his dark head lay against. She put a knee beside his head, then the other. Falling forward, she crawled on her hands until her face was at his belly, the crotch of her panties a few inches from his face. She didn't move. She didn't know what she wanted or expected from him, but she thought he ought to know how wet this little exercise was making her. She wished he would touch her like the man in the show was touching his women.

Oh, well. At least she could explore him at her leisure now. She moved forward a few more inches and settled down, feeling his chest hair on her thighs and belly. She writhed a little, letting it abrade her. She whimpered.

His cock was right there. Like the woman in the movie, she opened her mouth and let it glide past her teeth, nudging the roof of her mouth. She let each ridge bump lightly against him until the head met the soft tissue of her throat. She didn't gag. It was too wonderful. Her face was stuffed full of man, her throat jammed with a throbbing man cock. She moaned again. Was she having an orgasm? Her vagina clenched and rippled. It felt empty. She wished he would touch her.

Then, suddenly, he was. Just the backs of her thighs right above her knees, but he was touching! Squeezing and rocking her back and forth. Her mouth made a loud suctioning sound as his cock pulled free, then plunged back in.

"Awwww, fuck," he was chanting. His hands moved up, to the backs of her thighs just beneath her panties. They clenched and pulled, the movement causing her sugar walls to shift and slide against themselves. She whimpered again. His fingers moved to her butt cheeks, sliding the soft cotton of her underwear to the center. Usually a wedgie didn't feel good, she marveled, but in this circumstance at least it was something to help soothe her drenched, tingling center.

Instinctively she brought her hand around to trace teasing patterns on his testicles. He almost bucked her off him. The litany of chanted cuss words continued. She thought that must be good. He was like a savage now, gripping her behind painfully. She brought her lower body down and ground against his sternum.

"You don't fucking deserve this, you little whore," he muttered. Then, without warning, he grabbed her by the hips and jerked her back. The triangle of cotton covering her weeping pussy was right in face. Through the fabric she could feel the first bristles of his mustache abrading her. He ground it against her experimentally.

"Oh!" she released his cock from her mouth. It hit his stomach with an audible smack.

"Don't stop sucking," he told her. She rushed to comply with his demand. His thumbs were under her panties now, slipping into her delicate vaginal folds. They were blunt and calloused, flicking her intrusively.

"Mmmhhgg," Katie moaned, wanting to jerk away at the overwhelming sensation but knowing she would do nothing to hinder his participation. He pushed her panties to the side, holding them with the fingers of one hand. Then he buried his head between her thighs, assaulting her with his tongue and prickly mustache.

He pulled back enough to pant, "You're pussy...tastes like whipped cream," he said in detached wonder. "I've never tasted anything like it."

Katie tried to keep sucking him off, but it was so hard! He was using his facial hair to abrade her on the inside. She could hardly bear it, especially when he found the little pearl concealed at the top of her slit. He shined it with his rough tongue and she flew up like a jack in the box. She was sitting now, fully on his face. Facing forward, holding tightly to the side of the couch as she rode the wave of intense feeling welling from inside her. It shimmered, coalesced, and shattered. She let out a soft warble, like a baby lamb.

He only let her perch there for a few moments. Then he pushed her to the side so that her torso met the couch back.

"Why did you stop!" she cried.

"I told you not to stop sucking." But he pulled out from under her entirely, gaining his feet behind her. She knelt awkwardly, her legs were like jelly. He pressed against her, a wall of horny hostility. Now his hands roamed her, starting at her stomach and going up under the t-shirt to her small breasts.

"Hardly anything here," he said cruelly. "You still look like a little girl. You'll never be a woman like my wife. She doesn't suck dicks. Only whores perform that act."

Katie didn't care. "I guess I'm a wh-whore, then."

He laughed shortly, "Yeah, it's pretty fucking apparent you are." He flicked the tips experimentally. Embarrassed by her A-cup, she swatted his hands away. "Don't fight," he told her, "You are the one who asked for this."

He had her there. She let him paw her. He was the first ever touch her little nipples. He was not gentle. "Is this what you wanted, whore?" He pinched her painfully, pulling and jiggling.

"Yes!" she choked. It seemed to be the right thing to say. He released her and roughly inserted his knees between hers on the couch. He ripped off her underwear, actually ripped them from her hips, and discarded them on the floor.

He's going to have sex with me, she thought. He's going to take me. I'm going to be his.

But he didn't, exactly. He began to stroke himself, letting his blunt head bump against her quivering pussy. He swirled the head around her pussy before bringing it back to press it between her butt cheeks. He didn't try to put it inside her so much as used her to create friction as he pleasured himself.

"I'm not going to fuck you. I'm not going to take your virginity. I want no evidence of this. You could get pregnant, you could save my sperm somehow to implicate me...I'm not having it."

Katie didn't know what to say or think. She wanted to fall back on him, force his shaft inside her. Make him come as intensely as the man in the movie, who was shooting white sperm all over the chest and faces of his handmaidens at this very moment.

"Do that!" she offered. "You can do that to me. I want you to." She pointed to the television. His head swiveled around and he watched the big finish.

"It's messy," he observed. Then he grabbed her roughly by the hair and pulled her sideways until she lay on the couch on her back. He sat on her stomach and began pumping his cock again.

"Show me your tiny titties," he instructed. She lifted the concealing t-shirt and presented him with her little breasts, each the size of an apple half. She touched them tentatively, then with more confidence as he grunted his favor.

Soon his jerks were becoming urgent. He inched closer to her face, smacking rudely with his erection. "I didn't want to do this," he growled. "It's fucking sick and wrong. May God forgive us. Now open your mouth, I'm going to come in it."

He jammed his cock down her throat. She hardly had time to gag before thick fluid flooded her mouth. He kept himself fully seated, holding her head at an unnatural angle as he thrust savagely half a dozen times, until he was fully spent.

At last he pulled out. But he didn't move off of her right away. Instead he took his finger and carefully gathered the overflow of semen that leaked from the corner of her mouth. At his non-verbal command, she opened her lips again so that he could insert his finger. She sucked it clean for him a number of times before he was satisfied.

She was disappointed when he lifted his weight from her. Why did it have to be over?

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this. Ever," he said, leaning over her threateningly. "I swear to god I will call you a liar and then arrange for you to have an 'unfortunate accident'. This never fucking happened, got it, Kelly?"

"It's Katie," she whispered, crushed.

"Understand, if you don't keep your mouth shut there will be consequences."

"I won't tell anyone. Not Lucy, not your wife...."

"Good."

"But this isn't over. I won't tell anyone as long as you promise me we can do it again." Her voice quavered. She felt so vulnerable. Her pride was in tatters. If he said 'no', that meant she wasn't even good enough to take a load of his semen in her mouth. Please let him think she was worth at least that.

"That would be beyond stupid," he told her, wiping at his mustache with a Kleenex. Katie wished she could taste it, see if it carried her scent. "I'm destroying the movie. We can never, ever do anything like that in my home again."

Katie saw that as encouragement. She sat up, searching with one toe for her discarded panties. She pulled them on and plastered herself to his side. Up on her tiptoes she leaned in to whisper in his hear. "I don't care if it's stupid. That was the best thing that ever happened to me. I want to do it again."

He shoved her away. "I'm not interested in small breasted virgins who give lousy head. Now go to bed." He moved to the DVD player and ejected the movie before heading for the door.

Katie smiled at his retreating back. Well, she couldn't make her boobs grow, but she could get rid of her virginity and find someone to practice her blow job on. Soon Mr. McKinney wouldn't have any reason to resist her.