The Day We Did Janey Ch. 03

If you haven't already guessed it, the guys in my town are plain people. I don't mean stupid. But here's Debbie, living in a shack down by the river with a tarpaper roof, and the town knows what she does. In fact, we call her "the quean of Frog Hollow," and has been since before I was born. Did you know that "quean" is an old word for a whore?

I know my dad has gone to her. Not just once, either. And he's got my mom; but some guy isn't getting enough, or what he wants, and he takes off like a mongrel dog into the high reeds and down the path, stinking of mud, heading for the river. He stands peeking through the reeds at the shack till he can see if anyone's there ahead of him. Believe me, Deb doesn't do appointments. Sure, she'll leave a light on over her door, just a bare bulb, if she's alone. Except when she forgets. Which is why everyone is peepin' out of the reeds.

So guys will be saying "fuck this and fuck that," but then blush when the cute girl in drug store smiles at them.

So now, Ernie says, gazing down: "I can't take her cherry."

Where did he get that? I mean, we didn't invite Janey to afternoon tea. But he takes his boner and walks away, across the room. Likely Ernie never had real sex, except talking about it, and he's scared what he heard about busting a cheery.

Debbie was looking at us. With one finger, she was absent mindedly torturing Janey's clit, barely looking, taking lube from the pussy and rubbing round and round the clit, which, I swear, was looking as sensitive as three inches down inside my prick...

And I'm wondering how much Janey can take. As I said, this is a wild girl, wired with explosives, and now her hips are jerking like mad, her nipples have crinkled into little towers, and her head is whipping back and forth on the table. Most of all, her chest is heaving, her big tits jacking up and down, and she's crying. I mean, truthfully, rough and tough Janey is weeping with the torture of not coming.

There's a half cup of corn oil running down her pussy. I never saw such inflamed flesh as between that girl's thighs.

My prick was straight as a bat, actually arched back toward my belly, well above my navel. It was rock-hard and drops of fluid were overflowing it. I stepped up to Janey's pussy and, as I did, she raised her head, looked at me, and, I thought she might have smiled...

I wondered, as I approached, how to get my stiffo lowered down to her cunt.

Suddenly, Deb said, "Hold it, cowboy. You want to make a baby?" And as she spoke, a condom appeared in her hands. She raised it a bit, as though to eye level, and smiled at me. I nodded dumbly.

In about two seconds, her long fingers had the sheath down over my rampant prick. She gave my hard-on a slap, as one will swat a horse to make it get moving.

"No, no..." Janey moaned slowly, rocking her head, but I paid no attention. I approached the table, standing between her thighs, her offered her cunt, and I stared in at her egregious tube of a clit. Then, with a thud, I was on my knees, my lips pressed to that tormented shiny pink clit; I wet it with my mouth and my tongue raced back and forth across it...

Janey was cracking up. Her cry was like from a cat that fell in the fire. "Naaooo..." she shrieked. "No more teasing, please. Fuck me...fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..."

I look around smiling. But Debbie had a mad face on her. She said, "You been jerkin' that girl around way too long. You get it in there, now, buddy."

With Deb's hand at the small of my back, her hand gripping my balls—hard—and shoving me, I stepped forward, putting my dick against Janey's pussy. Deb's hand was on it, pushing it down and aiming it, so that when my hips thrust, my arched prick slipped into Janey's amazingly slick pussy. Slipped in so easily, glided into the gaping mouth, and then slid the whole way, until my curly, light brown hair was pressed against her auburn bush, and she was hissing, "Yes, yes, yes..."

All I thought, at that moment, is that I would come in about two seconds. Or less. My dick felt like the prelude to an explosion. The sensation of ecstasy seemed to rise and rise; surely I could not resist for another second.

Her moan sounded distant; she was weeping, begging: "Ram me...please, please, please..., ram my cunt...hard...do it so hard... hurry..."

And I did, but only a dozen times, my hips colliding with her mound, as though driving a stake into hard earth, thudding against her, again and again, so her sturdy body jolted back on the table, tied or not, and her big breasts shook like pudding...

And suddenly, there are four guys on Janey. One has grabbed her hair and is pressing his lips to hers, devouring her lips till I see her struggling to even breathe. Two guys are on her nipples, one squeezing each boob with his hands, his mouth locked on her big nipples. And one guy is pressing his face into her soft belly.

"Now," she screamed, and sure enough, it was. I came in Jamey's beautiful pussy, crying out, slamming my hips as though penetrating granite... How did her cunt stand it? But it did. She was erupting on the table, her boobs jouncing, her thighs straining against their bonds.

It seemed a long time later when I heard Debbie say, in a voice with gentleness that shocked me: "Janey, you want to go home now?"

I lifted my head. I realized I had been in a half dream. I was still naked, lying on the hard dry boards of the floor.

I heard Janey say, with perfect calm, "Just untie me, I'm stiff."

I think I heard myself say, "Oh, wait..."

But then Janey was standing, naked and relaxed, stretching like some cat, her back arched so her big breasts thrust, her arms reaching far above her head. Her cute face with the auburn bangs, the green eyes, the full lips looked relaxed, quite astonishingly relaxed.

"You want to leave?" Deb asked again.

"No," said Janey, "I don't really want to go."

"Then what?"

A long silence—well, maybe not so long. And I heard Janey say, her tone suddenly intense, "I want to see them do you."

"Do me?"

"Fuck the shit out of you, and everything else. Ream out everything you got."

After a moment: "Sure, Hon, if they want to do a nigger girl."