Mario was panting heavily now, his breath playing hot and moist over her naked breasts. "Jo!" he moaned frantically. "Honey baby… man, I want you… I've got to fuck you. Now!"
"No!" Jo gasped. "No, Mario. No! You'd… you'd hate me afterwards. I know you would! We mustn't!" She pulled her long slender leg down from the open car window and scissored her thighs shut, wanting to let him do it with every fiber of her physical being while her brain fought to maintain control of her lust-inflamed senses.
"Jo!" Mario groaned hoarsely. "Come on… I got to!"
Thrusting with his lean hips, he tried to squirm his penis between her now tightly closed thighs, forcing the blunt, bulbous cock-head down through the upper part of her wetly hair-lined slit, fighting madly to reach the mouth of the hot pink passage she was denying him. His every plunge sent wilder sensations of abandon surging through her as his hardness grated against the moistly throbbing bud of her clitoris.
"No, Mario. No! We mustn't! It would ruin everything." Jo breathed passionately. She hugged him tight and talked wetly into his mouth, murmuring incoherent and obscene endearments up into his slavering lips as she clamped her trembling thighs together.
Mario arched up his pumping hips and jammed his knees in between her thighs, forcing them slowly apart. She struggled against him with all her strength-and inadvertently her grip tightened around his straining cock just as the wetly seeping head was poised between the splayed-open lips of her cunt.
The boy threw back his head and uttered a gasping cry. His breath jetted out in a shuddering sigh as Jo felt the rigid shaft in her hand begin to jerk uncontrollably, and a hot thick stream of male semen spurted from it, pumping out in diminishing squirts until her golden pubic hair was drenched with the warm sticky sperm. It lay in moist pools on her quivering white belly, covered the insides of her thighs, and dripped wetly down between her legs to smear the car seat beneath her naked buttocks.
Mario emitted. a final groan and collapsed across her body as she lay staring up through the dusk at the misted windows while his come grew cold on her skin, and she half wished that he would try again or at least realize how frustrated she was feeling.
Suddenly the lights went on in the garage! Her father was coming up to the car and peering in at the scene.
"My God!" he cried in despair. "What have you done! You slut! You whore!"
"But, Daddy," Jo protested. "I didn't do anything. He never got it in…"
But her father would not listen. By this time Mario had scrambled into a sitting position, trying to pull his clothes together.
Jo's father reached into the car and pulled her out roughly, with force. While he was shaking her and slapping her, Jo cried out, "Run Mario!.Run! He'll kill you! Run!"
"No!" he protested.
"Please, Mario, run!"
And Jo didn't see him again for four years. Her father had placed her in a strict convent for girls with similar problems. Jo had insisted that she was innocent, that she had not let Mario fuck her, but her father wouldn't listen. For almost a year, she cried herself to sleep.
When she had gotten her master's degree she returned home. Mario was in uniform and home on leave. She sneaked out to see him and this time they spent five hours in a motel out of town. This time, too, he did everything he wanted to do and that she wanted him to do. It was great! He asked her if she would marry him when he returned from Viet Nam and she promised she would.
Five months later, when Jo had been accepted at the university to work for her doctorate, she got word that Mario had been killed! And her world almost ended.
But she survived, losing herself in her work.
Now ten years after being fucked by Mario she was standing in front of a mirror masturbating and wishing Mario or the young boy, either one, were here to help her.
The material of the nylon between her legs clung and slid alternatively, setting up a burning friction over the gates of her steaming cunt. She spread her thighs wide and bent her knees to dip down and open the silky petals to the nylon touch. It slid inside them and teased at the sensitive tissues rimming the mouth of her vagina. She moaned slightly, sawing back and forth with the crotch of the panties and felt the ball of sensitive nerve endings at the top of her cleft awaken and sprout like a small cock. The little bud surged forward into the cupping grooves of nylon.
A change overtook her doll-like features as her passion mounted. She watched the soft lips go slack and her eyes hood over. The halo of golden hair swam luxuriantly around her shoulders and face. Her breasts pumped up and down inside their confining garments, and she wished she'd taken them off.
As if by itself, her thumb began creeping down inside her panties. The material was tightly bunched, in her fists, one in front, the other in back, and her knuckles rubbed with light touches over her burning skin. She felt the thumb in front begin weaving back and forth across the tremulous mound of her abdomen, reaching further and farther downward with each swing as if seeking contact with her golden triangle and the pulsing delights under it. Then she allowed the hand behind her to nose its way between the cheeks of her saucy ass. A heightened throb rippled through her as she thought of its destination.
Her hips rolled back and around and pumped forward, and the material of the panties sang over her clit like a slippery bow over a violin string.
She sucked in her breath and felt sharp jolts shoot through her, and her resolve started crumbling to pieces. She wondered what difference one small bit of self-indulgence would matter now-what harm there would be in slipping her thumb inside her cunt and letting the release she'd been holding back so long flow through her.
Jo's face twisted in agony, and she damned herself for having started playing around. She cursed the inadvertent luck that had caused her to spot the young boy. A ragged moan escaped her lips as she shook with indecision and fiery need. But the guilt over the desire for the young boy and the shame for the fact that she was watching herself tease her genitals both crashed down furiously and won out, and Jo crumpled back onto the bed with a harsh cry of total frustration.
"No, no-I can't do it!" she sobbed, balling her fist against her trembling mouth.
Chapter 2
Jo spent the next day doing some research in the library at the university. She was working on a paper that she thought was quite important, but she couldn't keep her mind on what she was doing. Her mind kept going back to the boy she had seen. After she had followed him to a restaurant and had peered inside, she knew he worked there as a busboy.
When she finally got up and left the library she knew without thinking where she was headed. It was mid-afternoon when she walked into the restaurant. It wasn't crowded and the boy wasn't there either. But, of course, she realized, he wouldn't be until after school.
She ordered coffee and waited. At four o'clock he walked in. Jo's heart did a flip-flop and she almost gasped audibly. The likeness to Mario was so real.
When he had donned his apron and begun setting up tables in preparation for the dinner hour, Jo watched him. The two or three times he approached where she was sitting, Jo could feel the electricity that he seemed to radiate. It was as if she were drawn to him like a magnet. She wanted to reach out and touch him.
Jo stayed as long as she dared, then she went out and sat in her car until he came out the door, headed for home, she assumed.
She called out to him, "Could I give you a ride?" '
"No ma'am. I don't live too far. I can just walk."
"Nonsense. Get in and m give you a lift." The boy had to get in her car. She had to be near him.