Kimberly and Madison Tucker lay sprawled and heaving together in Kim's bed, the huge dildo their grandfather had bought for them joining their luscious, 14-year-old bodies and deep in the their eager pussies. They moved to and fro gently together in the rays on morning sunshine, softly moaning, eyes closed, is orgasmic bliss, legs entangled, hands stroking, bare breasts rubbing together, nipples fully erect, clits jumping.
"Phil," said Kimberly, blinking open her lovely eyes. "Why didn't I think of him before?" She kissed her sister's left boob and licked the rigid nipple.
'Who?" gasped Madison as she spasmed on the curved dildo again, her third climax of that Saturday morning. She shuddered and gagged, trying to hold back a scream of pleasure, her mouth on her sister's throat.
"That boy we met at the party, remember, the nerd, a girl at school told me he could fuck forever and never blow, never come." Their tongues touched again as they fucked each other with the huge device.
"Oh sure," said Madison, writhing and taking her half of the toy deeper for the moment as she heaved her belly forward and clamped her knees about her sister's thighs, "Gramps sometimes takes a half hour to get off, isn't that enough?"
"Are you satisfied getting it once a week from him? I'm not. I have to close my eyes and pretend when he mounts me. He's so gray and wrinkly."
"Well sure," said her sister, rolling off the bed with a foot-long, banana-curved, day-glo pink rod sticking up out of her vulva, its molded head dripping with Kimberley's juices. She waddled to the bathroom, pulled it out, rinsed it off and put it away. By then her young vagina had already closed tightly, the labia puckered and eager for more, and she tensed her muscles to make sure. Kegel exercises were part of life for both girls. They could squeeze on a pencil when they wanted to.
When she got back to her bed, her twin was on the phone. "He doesn't have a car," said Kim, tossing back her long, straight hair, "I should have asked how old he is, but he'll meet us at the teen club dance tonight."
'Did you tell him what we wanted?"
Kim pulled her naked sister to her, licked the pouting lips of her carefully shaved slit and kissed her jutting clit. "No, let's make it a surprise. I think he's too proud of himself. We'll teach him."
Madison put a long and shapely leg over her sister's bare shoulder and Kim drilled her with her tongue until she came again, her hands filled with her sister's smooth buttocks. Then the girls got dressed and their big brother dropped them at the mall on his way to work, his fucked-out, live-in girlfriend riding beside him and cooing like a fool.
After spending the morning skittering from store to store and drawing admiring stares wherever they went, the lovely twins in their loosely wrapped tops, tiny denim skirts and bare midriffs went into the food court and spotted Milly and Molly James, a pair of bleached blonde twins with a reputation as borderline sluts in the local high school. Their spaghetti strapped tops were even more revealing than the Tuckers' frill-trimmed garments as they displayed the top half of four gorgeous boobs the size and shape of Florida grapefruit. The Tucker girls' breasts were well shaped and stood high on their chests, but were a good bit smaller, 34B's where they wore a bra which wasn't often.
The four prettiest young girls in the mall ate lunch together and chatted about boys, ignoring stares and leers. The James girls, who were sixteen, were a busty pair of beauties who generally associated only with college boys on weekends. They had been sexually active as long as the Tucker girls had and had worn out more than one high school lover, and since they were legal, they got all the sex they could handle, adult as well as adolescent. The Tucker girls' plight brought forth sad faces and sympathetic sounds but no real feelings since they saw the younger twins as eventual if not immediate completion for the local studs.
Kim asked about Phil, and Molly almost choked on her hamburger. "He's unbelievable," said her smiling sister. "I mean he's only fourteen or fifteen but he's got this huge cock and it stays stiff forever, honestly."
"Some kind of freak is he?" asked Madison, dipping french fry in catsup, her wrap top flaring open and giving an nearby gentleman a blood pressure problem. "What's the word? Priap-something?" Her forehead creased.
Molly shook her head, tossing her carefully teased curls. "He's a nice guy, maybe a little geeky, but he's got control, that's what it is."
"You know how most boys squirt in a minute or less, especially the first time?" asked Milly, sipping her Diet Coke. 'Well, Phil can somehow stop. I don't how he does it, but it's wonderful."
"We were at this ski lodge with a bunch of other girls, and he did us all one night, and I don't think he ever ejaculated."
"Yes he did," said Milly, grinning. "Like a fire hose. But he's really something."
"So, how come you're not hooking up?"
"Not how he works. After all it's kind of his choice, who he does." Molly smiled at a young man on the other side of the room and waved.
While that lunch chat was going on, Phil was enjoying his Aunt Joyce, the first woman to discover his hedonistic talents. He visited her about once a month and generally stayed busy in her body for an hour or so, demonstrating his increasing ability to be multi-orgasmic and satisfying the young woman thoroughly.
Phil now was doing, on average, five hundred hard, 10-second squeezes with his PC muscles every day, generally in school in sets of ten, unobtrusively and undetected, and he was now able to produce a full erection on mental command, just by thinking the word "up" and he could stop the flow of his urine for as long as he chose with little mental effort. He also had increased the weight on his lifts and could how heft a full twenty pounds with his cock and flex it up and down ten times before he had to rest, his abs and glutes clenching and threatening to spasm.
And he had been undergoing a growth spurt in the last couple of months, not only in his arms and legs, but for his penis which now extended nearly nine inches when fully aroused.
Joyce was on her knees on her bed, her hands clamped tightly to the headboard and her head hanging between her elbows as she neared her third climax, her nephew's huge ram devouring her from within, his stroking deep and steady and battering her overtaxed G-spot.
They were both sweating and smacking their flesh together, had been hard at it for at least forty minutes, and the boy had climaxed four times without ejaculating. She spasmed again, cried out and collapsed, and Phil sank down beside her, proud of himself, leaning back on the headboard, his monstrous cock still aimed at the ceiling. He relaxed his PC, palmed his balls and a translucent bubble of precum appeared on his huge cockhead.
"You know some people named Tucker?" he asked, as he stroked his aunt's thigh and then tickled her pussy. "Set of twins?"
Joyce nodded, feeling torn apart, her mind in turmoil. "Um," she managed to groan. "Very cute. Came into the shop once or twice. Never bought anything. Long legged."
"I'm going to see them this evening. One called this morning. I think they want sex."
"Probably. I've heard stories about them." She put her hand on his hard prick and stroked the immense tool. It felt like silk over iron.
"You want to suck it?" Phil asked. 'I'll come if you want."
Joyce shook her head. "Had enough," she said, "thanks.
Phil rolled between her legs and ate her out until she came again, kicking her feet and squalling for mercy as he tongued her deeply. It was a talent she had taught him and the way they ended every session, with her clit in his teeth.
Phil urinated, stopping four times just for practice, washed his genitalia carefully, kissed his aunt deeply with his hand on her breast, got back on his bike and stopped on the way home to visit his algebra teacher, the gorgeous Marcie Phillips, the 22-year-old female every boy at his high school dreamed about and masturbated over.
Marcie had it all, a killer figure, a great smile and a good mind. She had been both a gymnast and a cheerleader in college and had lost her virginity while hanging by her knees from the lower rung of the uneven parallel bars. Her coach had deflowered her at her request, with her hands gripping his ankles, and then she let the muscular young man who had won the overall gold in the last meet have what he had been longing and begging for. He took her from the back against the vaulting horse and gasped with joy when he came in her clinging depths, her virginal blood still seeping down her incredible legs as stood posed on her toes.
Neither of them had pleased her or moved her close to an orgasm which she did for herself in the shower, and since she left college her numerous lovers were all, as far as she was concerned, panting losers with limp pricks. Marcie was a first year teacher and knew she shouldn't be doing it with one of her students, but after one brief session with Phil during which she enjoyed three thrilling orgasms that jarred her fillings, she couldn't resist.
Phil put his bike on the kickstand, went up to the third floor apartment and knocked. Marcie answered in a lacy blue teddy that she hadn't bothered to snap closed between her muscular legs because she knew she would not be wearing it very long. She was hot and ready. The flimsy lace barely clung to her high 36C's and flared about her smooth hips and hard buttocks.
Phil smiled and reached out to peel the thin straps off her rounded shoulders and then watch the gossamer garment float down her lush body and puddle at her feet. Her soft belly fluttered in anticipation and her large nipples erected fully, jutting out almost half an inch. "Hi, Phil," she said, "you're late." Her pubic hair was a curly blonde too and trimmed down to a tidy patch.
"Sorry," he said with a smile as he reached out to lift her beautiful left breast and bring her pink nipple up to his lips. He sucked it deeply and nibbled gently as the young woman began undressing him, and he pawed her quivering mound and eased two fingers into her wet vortex. She whimpered and said his name.
When his trousers fell, she peeled down his boxers and went to her knees before him, capturing his huge cock with both hands and feeding it into her mouth. Her fingers could not quite circle his huge phallus, and she had to open her mouth extra wide to take in his helmet-shaped head while she palmed his crinkled scrotum.
Phil tangled his hands in her lovely golden hair and let her enjoy herself as she circled his glans with her tongue and moved her head up and down his shaft, keeping a hard clamp on his PC muscle until she looked up with her begging eyes and gasped out a barely audible "please." Then he let go and filled her throat with his thick jism, stopping with some effort after two thick ropes jetted out. Marcie sucked and swallowed, her vagina on fire and vulva throbbing, labia flapping open as if hungry, juices running down her thighs as she swallowed his spend.
She fell to the hall rug and spread her legs, knowing she looked like a slut, feeling like one as well. Phil smiled down at her, his huge cock dripping her spit down on her overheated body; she was a living, breathing centerfold, writhing and ready. He knelt between her legs, lifted one up on his shoulder and pushed the other knee back beside her ear and drove nine inches of thick gristle into her with a single thrust as he twisted her left and right. She squealed.