Sandy hung up the phone and gleefully leaped off the bed. She dressed in a hurry and ran downstairs two steps at a time. The living room smelled dank and musty and Sandy paused at the front door. Looking around, she noticed big wet spots on the couch – and that sticky white stuff was smeared all over.
"Mom!" she called out. She wanted to stay and wait for an answer, and tell her mother where she was going, but somehow the memory of what she had witnessed earlier – her big fleshy mother writhing and moaning atop her brother – and the thick sweaty odor that permeated the downstairs, drove the blonde teenager out through the door.
She wanted to run away from that place, not because she was afraid of what had happened to Dave, but because she was afraid of what was happening to her pussy. She was getting so wet just standing there in the same room where her mother had fucked her big brother. And she couldn't spend the whole night babysitting with sopping pants.
So she dashed out onto the street and ran all the way to the Schultz's house. She arrived out of breath and knocked meekly on the front door of the little tract home.
Mr. Schultz answered the front door and looked down at her. Sandy was bent over, leaning against the rough stucco wall. Staring straight ahead, the first thing Sandy saw was Mr. Schultz's bulging crotch. The front of his slacks was sticking out lewdly, tented by his huge cock.
"Well, hello there," the big man said. "I didn't expect you so early. My wife and I were, well, why don't you come in."
Sandy knew it was rude, but she couldn't keep from staring at Mr. Schultz's crotch. She had thought her brother Dave had a big one, but this was ridiculous. Even as she watched, the man's prick seemed to grow larger under his tight trousers.
"Have a seat on the couch," he said, a trace of discomfort in his voice. "You… you're, Candy, aren't you?"
"No, that's my sister," the young girl replied, her eyes still locked just below the man's waist. "I'm Sandy."
"Yes, well, that's fine. It seems like the last time I saw you you were still a little girl," he said, trying to be polite.
The girl said nothing, her jaw opening wider. She felt warm flashes begin to tingle in her pussy. Even her tiny nipples were getting hot.
Just then, Mrs. Schultz came down the stairs and rescued her husband. "Come on, honey, let's go. We're late," she said.
"Okay, dear," the man answered. But before he could say another word, his wife grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.
Mrs. Schultz said, "There's food in the fridge and the kids are asleep upstairs. We'll be home early dear." And then she slammed the door behind her.
Sandy sat with her mouth open, moving her hands slowly toward her hot pussy.
Outside, as the car backed out of the garage, Mrs. Schultz said to her husband, "What was wrong with that Fildert girl? She's usually so bubbly when she comes over."
Mr. Schultz grinned lasciviously. "I think she just got something in her eye," he mumbled.
"What?"
"Nothing."
During the course of the evening, Sandy went to check on the kids a few times but they were always sleeping soundly. So she spent most of the night watching TV and nibbling at tuna sandwiches. But she had a difficult time concentrating on any of the television programs – because she couldn't get the picture of Mr. Schultz's big cock out of her mind.
By the time the evening news came on, Sandy had a fish sandwich in one hand and her other hand in her pussy. She was frantically massaging her wet cunt and eating at the same time. Mr. Schultz's bulge had made her this crazy.
Then the front door flew open. Sandy curled into a ball and slipped off the couch, startled and afraid. She dropped her sandwich and it flopped under the coffee table.
"Why don't you take the kid home, honey. I'm going up to bed," Mrs. Schultz told her husband. She held her forehead and weaved drunkenly up the stairs.
Mr. Schultz walked over to the couch and looked for Sandy. "Hmmmm, it smells like fish in here," he said, noticing the girl squirming under the coffee table.
"I just dropped my sandwich," Sandy replied around a mouthful of tuna. She arched her back and tried to button her shorts without Mr. Schultz spotting her wet pussy.
"Well, how did everything, go? Okay?" he asked.
Sandy turned around and looked up at the big man. Again, her eyes bugged out. He was standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest, deliberately thrusting his crotch in her direction.
"Fine," she said, crawling to her feet.
"And how much do I owe you, Sandy?" Mr. Schultz asked, gently gyrating his hips.
Mr. Schultz reached around to get his wallet and then groaned in pain. "Oh, it's my back again. This cold weather always gets to my back. Won't you come over and give me a hand?"
Sandy stepped forward slowly. She moved carefully, trying both to hide her cunt-sauce soaked shorts and to avoid staring too obviously at Mr. Schultz's cock. But the way he kept pointing his crotch right at her made the babysitter uncomfortable.
"Can't you reach around and pull out my wallet? Please?"
But as Sandy tried to reach his back pocket, Mr. Schultz began rocking his hips and spinning away from her, slowly, teasing her. Then Sandy tried to reach around the other side, but the big man was too quick for her. Soon their activity turned into a game. Finally, Mr. Schultz grabbed her and held her close, swaying back and forth.
Sandy rested her head against his hard chest and reached around his waist as far as she could. Her cunt began creaming delightfully as she stared down at the taut lump in his pants. She could have sworn his trousers were about to rip at the seams, so large was his erect cock.
"Where did you say your wallet was, Mr. Schultz?" Sandy asked, staring up at him with a grin on her face. Then, before he could answer, Sandy slipped her hand into the front pocket of his slacks. She dug around in the pile of change before she began stroking his firm upper thigh. Then she eased her hand as far toward his cock as she could, tapping the side of his hot nutsac with her fingers.
"Oh, baby, baby, ohhhhh…" he moaned.
"All I feel in here is a bunch of pennies, Mr. Schultz. You think I'm worth more than that don't you, huh?" Sandy asked, winking.
"Yeahhh, oh, yeahhhh. Come on, honey. Let's get you home."
He dragged her out the door and practically threw her into the car. Sandy scooted up close, pushing the seat belts out of her way. Mr. Schultz fumbled with the key in the ignition as she reached over and began stroking his thigh. The engine rumbled and then turned over just as Sandy squeezed the tip of his cock through the material of his pants.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Mr. Schultz gasped, slamming the accelerator pedal to the floor. The engine whined and Sandy began laughing happily.
"Oh, Mr. Schultz."
He nodded and sighed and somehow managed to get the car rolling down the street. All the way to the Fildert house, Sandy gently stroked Mr. Schultz's thigh with one hand and fingered her pussy with the other.
"So, how has your mother been lately?" the man asked, running a stop sign.
"Oh, she's okay. I watched her fuck with Dave today."
"Wha…?"
Sandy felt him quiver all over at the sound of her words. "What's wrong? Mom says it's okay to fuck whenever you want. Do you want to fuck with me, Mr. Schultz?"
"Now, S-S-Sandy, you have to understand s-s-something. You s-s-see, people c-c-can't f-f-f… oh, shit, Christ, yes! Yes, Goddamnit!"
He squealed to a stop in front of the Fildert house, bashing into the curb, sending Sandy crashing against the dashboard.
"Ooooo, Mr. Schultz, my head hurts."
"That's okay, honey. Let's go."
Schultz pulled her out of the car and carried her under his arm as he ran across the front lawn. "Wait a minute. We can't just do it in your house," he said. "Damnit, and I'm so fucking hot!"
"That's okay, Mr. Schultz," Sandy squeaked, rubbing her bruised forehead. "Let's go around back and use the hot tub."