The Life of Peggy Larson

I jumped yet again as I felt her tongue touch mine, my reaction being an unconscious and instinctive search for her with my own.

The kiss was sensual and was a kiss only two women can share.

As our mouths made love, Milady slid her hand into my dress and sought out my breasts. My titties were still growing but as yet were still quite small.

My hostess suddenly groaned as her fingers found my hardening nipples, moaning a long 'mmmmmmmm' into my mouth which seemed to vibrate through me. She turned me around to face a full length mirror and I watched transfixed as she lowered my dress from my shoulders and bared my youthful breasts, not just to her, but to myself also.

As she cupped my excited breasts they stood out hard and firm. My breasts were not growing in a rounded way like most girls but rather outward. Although they were still relatively small, Billy used to tease me by calling me torpedo tits because that's what they resembled sticking straight out. Whilst my hostess was kissing my neck it was surreal to watch, I was a peeping tom watching two other people make love. I gazed between my own legs, aroused at how I looked and conceitedly proud at the reflection of my youthful slim body. I only had a light covering of pubic hair on my lips and what looked like a single tuft of red hair above my sex.

"Come child," she said and led me hand in hand to the bed where I lay back like a nervous, skittish and frightened kitten.

After an age of having my pointed breasts kissed and sucked, the nipples drawn into her wet mouth and bitten gently and sensually between her teeth, Milady moved down the bed and settled between my legs. I knew what she was going to do -- she was going to do to me what Pa had shocked me with all that time ago -- but what I didn't know was how beautifully, sensually and sexily she was going to do it.

With the delicacy and exquisite touch of a woman, as opposed to the bulldozing approach of a man, she made sweet love to my pussy with her mouth. Sucking on my engorged clitoris, gently nibbling on my little labia and pushing her skilful tongue between the folds of my sex to stimulate me inside, she drove me insane. The orgasm when it came was completely different to what I had experienced before, it was complete bliss, a slow building, warm erotic gush from deep within me, as opposed to the hard, forceful and crude blast of climactic ecstasy a rampaging cock had bullied into me in the past. My skilful lover ensured that my climax was allowed to wash through me in its own time. The time my gifted and artful lover expertly made me spend on the edge seemed to last an eternity, as Milady took me to the heights of pleasure, before the warm and sensational orgasm gave me the sweetest release I had ever had.

Unlike men, who rolled straight off - job done, Milady gave me as much sensual pleasure in my sex, post-orgasm as before it. She skilfully 'brought me down' from my beautiful orgasm by slowly kissing, sucking and licking my hyper-sensitive lips and clitoris with slowly decreasing pressure. In the past, the point of orgasm was 'game over' the job was done and it was time to lay back and recover. For this highly skilled lady it was different and as she continued to bring me down pleasurably, it was the first time in my life that I had experienced this sensual 'aftercare'.

I had never seen another woman's vagina.

I had no idea about the difference that existed between women, I had only ever seen my own sex in a mirror. The first thing that struck me was how beautiful her vagina was. Her full black bush framed her sex and as I drew myself nearer and nearer to her expectant wetness, I took in the vision of her quite large, pronounced and engorged clitoris and the perfect way her clitoral hood had flared open exposing the nub of her sexuality.

The darkness of her lips was in complete contrast to my own paleness and her pretty labia hugged each other as though trying to bar my entrance. I put my fingers between her lips and parted them, the perfectly formed lips just begging me to kiss and caress them.

As I leant into her, the aroma of her aroused and gushing pussy filled my nostrils with the sexiest smell I had ever known and as I gently closed my lips over her erect clitoris, I elicited from her a groan, the likes of which I had never heard or experienced since.

I simply followed what she had done to me, as I kissed and licked and sucked her into frenzy. When I pushed my tongue into Milady's pussy it felt like silk, like soft, wet, tender velvet and as her wetness and excitement flowed into my mouth, I tasted the sensational sweetness of a woman in heat.

When my first ever female lover made it quite obvious that she was about to cum on my face, I had no idea where she was at in her pleasure. I was ignorant on what I was doing and whether it was good or bad and just as unaware of what she needed me to concentrate on and which things to now stop. I needn't have worried about my ability to pleasure her, as she grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into her sex so hard that the only thing it was possible to do, was to keep licking just around the rim of her open pussy, as her engorged lips seemed to spread to either side of my mouth.

As my tongue brushed over her pee-hole, Milady came into my mouth, her juices shocked me with the copious amount of her ejaculate which flowed from her pulsating vagina into my inexperienced but incredibly excited mouth. I sucked at her throbbing wetness and drank her greedily, the beautiful woman tasting like nectar.

After our incredible love-making I lay flat on my back, my lover on her side propped up one elbow looking down on me. I felt incredibly sexy and desirable as she talked to me and idly played with my body. She caressed my breasts and down over my flat stomach to where the swell of my vagina rose before curving and dropping back between my legs. Milady idly toyed with my sparse little red bush, running her fingers through my tuft and even playing with individual hairs, pulling at them gently and stretching them to their extent.

We made love several times throughout the afternoon.

When it was time to go and I had dressed, I made to leave her and made my way to the door, I was so full of happiness and warmth and incredible excitement over what we had done together, that I felt like I was walking on air. I felt so much affection for and attraction to her, that when I reached the door, I looked back and couldn't help but run back to her like a child to her beloved mother and kiss her like the little girl I still was.

To Milady this was again amusing, she had seduced a young girl and had enjoyed a couple of hours enjoying her body but to me it was a stunning experience in life and I was still too young and inexperienced to pass it off as 'a bit of fun one afternoon'.

To this day Billy has no idea that I have made love with another woman and to this day I still remember making love with her as though it was yesterday.

It was then that I started hankering for a child, I was amazed that in all the sex that I had been made to engage in, that at least one man hadn't knocked me up. A consultation with a doctor - a diagnosis of blocked tubes - a minor operation - sex with Billy - and three months later, I was pregnant.

A couple of years later, as my two children were growing up, Billy and I managed to get a friend to mind the kids and we treated ourselves to a night out. We were in a roadside diner that we liked and had a few beers and a burger and were playing pool when a great roar erupted.

It was the sound of many motorcycles pulling up outside.

A little while later I found myself the centre of attention, as the biker gang surrounded the pool table and began to make crude remarks about me. The leader challenged me to a game and in no time started hitting on me.

It was fun at first but as the drink went down, I could feel the mood changing by the minute.

The situation changed over into one of menace, as the gang leader cupped my ass as I bent over the table to take my shot.

The atmosphere instantly became malevolent and heavy with potential violence. The gang made a circle around me, a circle which then squeezed closer and closer, the inference and the underlying malevolence of what they were going to do to me became obvious.

It was then that the door opened and two cops on their coffee break walked in.

The group slowly broke up and after a while they all left, giving me a lustful stare.

To this day, I can't stop thinking about that day. The power and intensity of those dangerous minutes as I contemplated my imminent gang rape, was so overpowering, that today, even just the memory of what MIGHT have happened turns me on. On these occasions I look back and although at the time I was so relieved to escape such an experience, now I can't help but wish that it had happened. Most of my adult sex life has been lived with this incident as my main masturbation fantasy.

The imagined intensity of my violent rape over the pool table, first the leader then his gang, first making me suck all their cocks then laying me back, my ass on the edge of the table, legs spread wide. My tiny and pale body would be in contrast to that of the big rough men who dwarfed me and would be exposed, vulnerable and available to any man who wished to fuck me. In my fantasy the leader stood between my legs his hairy balls and the base of his huge cock resting on my outer pussy, the enormous length reaching from my vulnerable sex to lay almost between my titties, The subsequent fantasy of all those men with obscenely huge cocks (what fantasy doesn't have the same?) fucking me one after the other, is still the most arousing fantasy for me.

In my disgusting private thoughts and fantasies, when the men get around to raping and fucking my ass, I have the most obscene and erotic sight of the huge cocks bulging in my belly. My stomach rising and falling with the rhythm of the cock deep inside me, the vision of the bulbous head pressing against the inside of my body, always sends me into ecstasy.

This 'belly bulging' experience I would love to live out in real life, being so full of cock that it reaches up into my insides and can be seen deep inside my tiny body has now become a real desire and need in me.

Every single day in the ensuing years, I have longed to go back to that moment in time, and whisper in the biker leader's ear,

"Wait until they have gone."

In the ensuing years, as I strived to satisfy the woman that I had become and to feed the sexual hunger that I craved and which I could not satisfy with Billy alone, I realised that I didn't want meaningless affairs, yet I was searching for some stimulus other than that provided by basic sex.

Due to my unconventional start to adult life, I now had ingrained in myself the appreciation and careful approach to money and an equally embedded need for sexual gratification.

Although we didn't need money desperately, I soon fell back on my old ways. When my bills were due, I began to barter and trade with all the tradesmen. The most obvious 'kill two birds with one stone' solution to my problems, has dawned on you already I assume.

I settled half of the bills brought to our door with my body.

The catalyst for this new and exciting decision came one day when we had the car in the shop. I don't need to bore you with mechanical descriptions etc but suffice it to say that the horny mechanic who thought he would try to 'put one over on me' (who assumed that he didn't really have a chance but still tried anyway,) had a shock coming when he creepily offered to halve my bill,

"If you do me a favour then I am sure I can do something with the bill,"

When I simply accepted his offer he was dumbstruck.

I had been around the back of gas stations with dirty unshaven men before in my short life but somehow the filth and grime of this man pushed buttons never used before. I was dressed in a light yellow summer frock, white ankle socks, pumps and nice summer hat. Looking back I was the archetypal vision of the 50's. It was that clean and fresh look that was to be sullied by dirty, oily and greasy hands and made to feel wonderfully soiled.

As I knelt before my creditor, I deliberately sank to the part of the floor which was dirtiest. As I unzipped him, fished around in his pants and pulled out his circumcised meaty cock, I did so in the grime of a garage floor. I wrapped my lips around the instantly rock hard cock and drew him sensually into my mouth.

He was completely unaware of the reality of my attitude to this arrangement. As I stood, bent down and lifted my dress, pushed my panties down baring my wispy little bush, which was unable to conceal my flowering slit and as I leaned back on a dirty workbench and opened my legs for him, unknown to him, I was as desperate for this as he was.

The wonderful fantasy of being sexually exploited had returned!

My legs and labia parted like a bitch in heat and he shuffled between my legs, placed the hard, purple, fit-to-burst cock head between my pale pink labia and pushed.

Had this been a cheating fuck, it would have been ok, but the fact I was a whore made the act so much more thrilling. As the mechanic sawed his cock in and out of my twitching and grasping pussy, I grabbed his hands and placed them on my tiny tits on the outside of my dress. I wanted the dress ruined, covered with the shameful marks of dirty hands as they pawed my body and left me as the filthy prostitute that I was.

In the weeks and months to come, I played the 'hard-up-desperate- housewife' with the insurance agent, the rent collector, the grocery delivery boy, the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker. All these men caught up in my sham, had no idea that they were merely a bit part player in this role play.

They all thought that they were calling the shots, that they were in charge of the situation and that the scared and reluctant young bride had no choice but to allow them to take advantage of her!

This character defined me and developed further still one day, when the young grocer boy fucking my shameless pussy began to abuse me. I know he wasn't being spiteful or nasty, he just get caught up in his own excitement but as the semen began to spurt into me he began calling me names. At each twitch and spasm of his erupting cock, as he jerked with each jet of cum, he spat out a different word, whore -- slut -- bitch -- slag -- dirty whore etc. Each word was accompanied by a cum spurt, and was a dagger not to my heart but to every erogenous zone I possessed.

I have no doubt that this woman that I had become, had been born on my road trip. As I now gave myself to unknown tradesmen for money, it brought back all those times in truck stops, restrooms and behind diners where my need for money had been borne of desperation. That need had married itself to my desire for out-of-the-ordinary sex and together they had become a sordid fetish.

My sexual exploits finally came to a close when Billy finally worked out why our bills were so low. I had been given an ultimatum to stop my antics or else leave him. I still loved Billy, I had never actually not loved him at any time in all this, so the whore-slut that was Peggy Larson settled down to become a faithful and respectable housewife and mother. Though the decades of 'free-love', 'flower power' and the permissive age were vibrant, I remained the same loyal wife. It wasn't until my husband and I were reaching sixty years old that I found he was fucking the widow next door.

Billy and I sat that evening and had the most frank and open discussion possible. There was no anger, no animosity, no recriminations, it was a calm talk between two people who still loved each other after forty years of marriage. In essence I told my husband everything that I have told you so far. I also told him that I realised that the years were slipping by and the chance to live out some of the great sexual experiences that were to be had, both individually and together, was also slipping away.

If I say so myself even at sixty, I had retained a superb figure. Because of my slender build nothing had 'gone south', my breasts were still pert and like tiny torpedoes. The little red bush that never really ever grew had lost some of its vibrant colour but I felt confident that the men who may see it now would find it as sexy as they did before. Billy was one of those men who improved with age, he seemed more good looking and attractive as a middle aged man than he did as a raw youngster. Together we (conceitedly) decided that we could still boast our share of people that were attracted to us and would jump at the chance to either sleep with me, sleep with Billy or even sleep with us both.

The children had long since left home, they had gone and now had families of their own. We were comfortably well off and had no worries or restrictions.

It was time that Billy and Peggy Larson struck out into the sexual jungle together, the story was not quite finished as far as I was concerned.

So to my great-granddaughter and others of her generation who think they invented sex..........