Chapter 5

"Hiya, Charly."

"Oh, hi, Mom."

"What's wrong, babes -- you sound down."

"Really?" She wished the shrug could show on the phone.

"Really," her mother answered. "I was getting a little worried about you last week. You seemed awfully down and pretty tensed up."

"Just exams, Mom." Exams and a good dose of Derek-dick. But that was a whole damned week ago.

"That's what I was hoping. But there aren't any exams coming up now. What's getting to you?"

"Nothing, really, Mom." And that was the problem: nothing was getting to her -- especially in the line of good hard cock. And that had been on her mind a great deal in the week since Derek had shown her what fucking could really be like, how good it could really be.

"Well, you just stay loose, Charly. You'll be going to see your father next week. You always enjoy that. And then, when you get back, we'll plan out a vacation for ourselves. How does that sound?"

"Sounds fine Mom. I'll be okay, really. Don't worry."

"If you say so, Charly. You're big girl, now."

Charlene almost giggled at that. Yes, she certainly was -- big enough to get to her mother's lover, in fact.

"Okay, Mom."

"Listen, I'm going to be late tonight -- about a half-hour or so. If Derek comes by early --"

"I'll take care of him, Mom."

"Thanks, babes. See you later."

"You bet."

Even as she hung up the phone and felt a little chill shoot through her at the idea of having Derek to herself for a full half-hour -- And that's more than enough time! -- she didn't even suspect how accurate her mother's last three words on the phone would prove.

Or how inadequate.

The doorbell chimed.

"Who is it?"

"Derek."

"Come in." To my parlor, said the spider to the big-dicked fly.

She opened the door, stepped to the side and waited for him to enter to the room. Closing the door, she leaned back against it and waited for his reaction.

She didn't have to wait very long.

"Hi, Charlene, is your -- ulp!"

She let a seductive smile spread slowly over her face.

Derek couldn't believe what he was seeing. Charlene was semi- wearing a mini-skirt she'd gotten when she was fourteen and a few inches shorter. Aside from reaching no farther than a third of the way down her lean thighs, the miniskirt hugged to her flesh as if it had started out intending to be a pair of hot-shorts and changed its mind halfway through. It was light beige, light cotton, and light transparent. The fact that she wore no panties beneath it was easily apparent; he could make out the silhouette of her delicious little cunt through the material.

Oh, that sweet little shit! Food! he thought, unconsciously licking his lips.

Charlene took a deep breath, causing him to move his eyes upwards and again examine the wonder of her covered -- if not concealed -- tits. She was wearing a tanktop. Like the miniskirt, it was originally fitted for a fourteen year-old Charlene.

But since then, she'd added three years of astonishing growth to her breasts. There was some of the creamy, silken tit-flesh curves that simply wouldn't be contained inside the top. So there was some overflow. And what didn't overflow wasn't exactly hidden, either. The tanktop was made of a very light, very flimsy cotton. Every marvelous nuance in the curves of her luscious tits was shown with perfect clarity through the material. From the dark spikes of her nipples to the sweet juncture of her breasts with rib cage, every detail was both revealed and hidden.

The sum effect was visible in Derek's eyes, in the hungry look on his face -- and the long, stiff, throbbing bulge inside his trousers.

"My mother called," she said quietly, hands clasped behind her back -- an attitude that made her tits thrust out towards him in brazen offering -- "and she said she'd be a little late."

"Uh-huh." He seemed incapable of responding with anything more complicated.

Charlene let her smile widen slightly. She leaned forward till she was standing straight. Her legs were shoulder-width apart and she swung lightly forward and back. Just the merest quiver of a bobble was communicated to her breasts, making them shiver delightfully within the tight material of her tank top. Derek's eyes couldn't seem to decide whether to concentrate on the slow movements of her abundant young tits or the steady, sinuous rippling of her belly muscles beneath the tight tanktop, a rippling that made his mind picture her naked; flat on her back on her bed, legs widespread and shuddering, hips ratcheting up and down as a man -- himself, of course -- pumped in and out of her sweet, hot young pussy.

Cripes.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. Her long, titian hair cascaded down over her shoulder, curved outward to follow the thrust of her breast -- accentuating their size and firmness.

"Huh?"

"You don't mind having me, uh, shall we say, 'entertain you'?" She straightened, brought her hands around to her sides and smiled at him like a little girl. "Just till my mother gets here I mean?"

"Uh, no, no, of course not."

"Good!" she said happily, clapping her hands sharply together. "Then first I should tell you to sit down."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." He let himself sink into the comfortable love seat -- and then immediately slithered forward to perch on the edge as she walked towards him. He was nervous. When was Liz, her mother, coming home? He couldn't afford to have Liz catch them in anything even remotely resembling a compromising position.

She stopped about a half-pace in front of him. The love seat was built low to the floor, and when he looked up he found himself with a perspective on her lovely breasts that made them seem even larger than before.

He was very nearly at crotch level on her. He had a sudden urge to reach out with both hands, slide them up her legs and grasp her hips, raising the miniskirt even higher -- and then begin feasting on the succulent morsel of her tasty cunt.

His cock gave a little extra leap inside his pants at the thought.

A leap that Charlene saw -- and appreciated.

"Can I get you anything -- to quench your thirst?" The way she pitched her voice in the asking, she made it more than obvious that the thirst-quencher menu wasn't limited to bottled drinks.

"Uh, a Scotch. Ice." he croaked, throat suddenly dry. He had to talk to the nubile woman-child, make it clear to her that what had happened the other day could never be allowed to reach her mother.

His eyes fastened onto the sight of her tight young ass cheeks, twitching and swaying through the miniskirt, as she walked away from him towards the kitchen.

She felt his eyes on her. Her already slavering pussy throbbed all the more urgently, as if it could smell his nearby lusts rising.

She poured him a stiff one -- To match his prick -- popped a couple of ice cubes into the smoky liquid and then sashayed back into the living room.

Charlene purposely moved her hand so their fingers would touch when he accepted the drink. He snatched his hand back as if burned, nearly spilling the drink on himself in the process.

She couldn't understand why he was so nervous, but she was enjoying the feeling of power it gave her. Did he think she was going to tell her mother they'd fucked the week before?

Charlene could just imagine that scene:

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, Charly. What's new?"

"Not much." Her mother takes out the latest issue of Advertising Age and begins paging through it.

"Oh, Mom?"

"Yes, dear."

"I don't know if I remembered to mention it to you, but Derek and I fucked each other silly last week. In your bed."

"Oh, that's nice, dear. I hope you didn't make a mess of the bed linens."

"No, Mom."

"That's good." Her mother continues paging through the magazine.

"Something funny?"

Derek's voice brought her mind back to the moment. "Oh, no," she said quickly, wiping the smile from her face. "Why don't you sit back and get comfortable?"

"Yeah, sure -- and uh, why don't you, too?"

She made as if to sit next to him -- thoroughly enjoying the panic in his face -- and then walked to the other side of the low-slung coffee table and sat in the matching love seat there.

Derek seemed to bye relaxing just a little bit. "Charlene," he began slowly, as though picking his words with the utmost care, "there's something I -- cripes!"

The word was torn from him by what Charlene was doing -- and exhibiting. She'd sat comfortably back in the love seat and calmly proceeded to cross her legs. The miniskirt, already indecently short, crawled up to somewhere in the vicinity of her hipbones -- leaving her just this side of naked from the crotch down.

"Why, what in the world is the matter with you, Derek?" she asked, as if she hadn't the faintest idea.

"Why, you're -- you -- but I can see --"

"You can see what?" she cooed.

"Your, uh -- you're showing me your pussy!" he finally blurted.

"So?" she demanded. "It's not as if you've never seen it before or kissed it -- or licked it -- or sucked it -- or fucked it -- or --"

"That was last week!"

"It's not exactly repulsing you, now, is it?" she teased, staring fixedly -- and pointedly -- at the throbbing lump at the crotch of his pants.

He didn't have an answer for that one.

Charlene raised her eyes to his and slowly uncrossed her long legs. She kicked off the flat thongs she'd been wearing and then raised her legs up and folded them till she was sitting cross-legged on the love seat. Her sweet little slit stared at Derek from across the low coffee table. Fringed with light, downy red hairs, the lips themselves glistening with the dew of her arousal, her gash looked like it was on fire -- a firebox.

"Don't you like it now?" she asked.

Derek swallowed nosily. "Cripes," he breathed, leaning forward without consciously willing it to get a closer look. "Cripes," he repeated.

"Wouldn't you like to come on over here and say hello to my puss?" she asked, as if it were somehow dissociated from her.

"Jeez, yes," he whispered, lips dry.

"My puss sure has missed you," she continued, slipping one hand down over her trim waist to find and trace the flare of her nubile hips. The hand moved down to her thighs -- and then she trailed one well- manicured fingernail up over the sensitive flesh of her upper, inner thigh until it reached the flat crease where the thigh joined her crotch. There that single digit moved forlornly up and down, lightly caressing the outer edge of her swelling labia as if to console it. "You have no idea how badly my little puss has missed you. Why don't you want to come over here and kiss puss hello?"

Derek started to stand -- and then caught himself. What if her mother came in while he was kissing her puss hello?

"Aw, poor little puss," Charlene crooned, looking down at her wide- open crotch. "All your hopes up and then he chickened out. Poor, poor little puss. I'll see if I can help puss a little bit."

And she proceeded to "help puss a little bit."

First, Charlene began tracing the end of that single fingertip around and around over the outermost edge of her fully swollen pussy lips. As she did so, the ache in her tits seemed to grow, become more severe, more demanding. She simply couldn't help bringing one hand up to rub the twin mounds of firm young flesh. She took a nipple between thumb and forefinger, tweaking the starting little spike through the material of her tanktop.

There was no way she could suppress the little twitch of her taut young hips.

She raised her eyes to see Derek's reaction. For all she could tell by looking at him, he might have been in a seizure. He didn't seem to be moving. He just sat there, staring at that single lonesome finger moving around and over the lips of her slit. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths beneath the little Izod alligator on his sport shirt and his prick rose and fell in sharp little jerks within the suddenly confining material of his pants.

Charlene began to spread her cunt lips, dipping just the tip of that finger inside barely far enough inside to wet it -- and then lifted her finger to her lips. She sucked on that finger -- but not until she'd first licked it with long, slow, sensuous wrigglings of her tongue... as if it were a cock.

Derek groaned.

She did it again, this time thrusting the finger all the way inside and moving it around inside her. Her eyes closed at the feel of it and she could hear Derek's breath rasping through his teeth. She was getting even more turned on, knowing he was watching. Charlene had whacked herself off before -- to be sure, almost daily since she'd turned eleven -- but it had never given her so much pleasure. Knowing Derek was watching, knowing it was getting to him, only intensified the pleasure and excitement of it for her.

She worked that solitary finger in and out of her clutching pussy rapidly. Every time she thrust it inside, the heel of her thumb came up hard and flat against her clitoris, sending an additional shock of pleasure coursing through her body.

She forced her eyes open. Charlene saw Derek staring at her cunt, leaning forward so far he appeared on the verge of toppling forward onto the coffee table.

"Wouldn't you like to kiss puss?" she whispered to him, drawing out the sibilants till they were a soft, susurant hissss... as in kisssss.

He groaned again.

"Poor Derek," she said to her slash as she pulled the finger back till just the tip was still inside it. "We've given him a terrible hard-on. That isn't very nice now, is it, puss? Of course not. We wouldn't want Derek to think we were cock-teasers. He might never kiss and lick and suck and fuck puss again if he thought that."

She yanked the fingertip from her twat suddenly. It came out with a definite popping sound. She placed both hands on her hips.

"We have to do something for Derek."

Charlene got to her feet and strode quickly over to stand in front of Derek. The backs of her calves were pressing against the coffee table's edge. "Now you just sit back there, Derek," she said firmly, placing her hands on his broad shoulders and pushing him back on the love seat," and we'll take care of this little problem we've given you. After all, you must have a problem." She stared straight down at his cock bulge within his pants. "After all, you must have a problem -- you're all swollen."