Chapter 7

The men felt the same passion, but they had some experience with regulating that passion. It was for that reason that the kisses ended, and supper was eaten, without either girl being stripped bare and skewered.

Then, trying to delay the inevitable, in one sense, and just enjoying the anticipation, in another, there was another walk. On this walk, they saw Maria, scurrying along with a basket of clothes. Dave stopped her and gave her a fifty dollar bill. She almost cried when she saw the bill, moaning "Gracias, Senor" over and over. He expected her to take his hand and kiss it, but she didn't. She blinked away tears, and with a final stream of Spanish, that they couldn't understand, but which they knew were more words of thanks, she trundled off with the clothes.

Eventually, they could walk no more, and ended up back in the motel room.

Cindy flicked on the TV, and sighed as an NBC program came on the screen.

Perhaps, by habit, when the men lay down to watch TV, on separate beds, their daughters lay down with them, snuggling up into armpits, with their father's arm around them. There was nothing sexual about this. They were just watching TV with their fathers, and it was nice, even if it was still hot enough to make them sweat a little. Dave wished he'd thought to ask Pops for a fan.

It was about seven-thirty, in the middle of a commercial about Cialis, when the picture suddenly became a busy blond woman being taken from behind by a young stud. The camera moved to his thick, young cock, sliding in and out of the woman's wet pussy.

"Well, I guess Jimmy Joe is done working on the car for today," said Dave.

Denise got up and went to the TV, shutting it off. Her vamp side was back, and she moved to the bed Dave and Cindy were on and reached for Cindy's hand, pulling her away and off the bed. Then she climbed on and, on her hands and knees, made it plain she wanted another kiss.

Cindy went to the other bed and did the same thing.

To give the men credit, they lasted fifteen minutes, just kissing, before their hands began to wander. That was probably because they were living a dream, which gave them patience. Even when the girls slowly went from hands and knees to lying half on the men, swapping tongues was the primary activity.

When the men's hands DID start wandering, the girls had to be given credit too. They were used to hot, torrid make out sessions, but when hands started drifting around their hips, they were also used to stopping those hands. Now, though, almost with a will, they held their own hands in place, firmly on their chosen man's face, or shoulders.

Dave was the first to start pulling the skirt of Denise's checkered blue dress up, baring her thighs, which he stroked, gently. When his hand got to her buttocks, she wiggled with the thrill of finally letting a man touch her there. That touch was electric, and her natural instinct was to burrow her upper leg between Dave's and press her itching pussy against his thigh. She'd never done that, either, and it felt fabulous.

When Dave began to explore, first her butt crack, and then deeper, to slide a finger over her tight anus, and then to the bottom of her thoroughly soggy pussy lips, Denise thought she'd pass out.

Cindy experienced much the same thing, except that Dick stroked the front of her thighs, under her dress, as their tongues dueled. Her instinct to keep her legs closed was fought off, and she lifted one leg, feeling more daring than she had the first time she'd let a boy touch her breasts. She knew his hand would eventually touch her pussy, but, as he played, tickling her inner thighs close to, but not there, she bent her knee and opened herself up even more, anxious, now, to feel a man's hand there for the first time. When he traced up the front of her thighs, going PAST her slit, to slide his fingers across her abdomen, just above her pussy hair, she moaned into his mouth, and kissed him even more urgently.

Then, when Dick flattened his hand on her belly, and slid it down, his middle finger rubbing across her clit, to dip into her sex, it was too much. She rolled away from him, her hand flopping on the bed, and let out a long groan.

"OhshitohfuckohUncleDick!"

Dick grinned at her, loving the fact that his was the first finger to penetrate her, and loving the fact that she was so obviously enjoying it. He pushed in a little deeper, going gently, because he didn't know if her barrier was still there or not. It wasn't, which became clear, and he pushed until he couldn't get any more in.

"AUUUUUGGHHHHHHH" groaned the over-stimulated teen. This was completely different than her own slim, smooth finger. This put pressure on the sides of her pussy, and made her clitty scream. When she did this to herself, it took ten minutes to get off. Now, though, with almost panic, she realized that the mother of all orgasms was bashing at her door. When he gave his finger a little wiggle, and slid it in and out rapidly a few times, she went off like a bombshell.

All Cindy's noises, but especially the noises she made as she came on Dick's finger, were heard by the couple in the other bed, who were going much more slowly. At that point, Denise had raised her leg higher, her knee impacting his erection, still in his pants. That opened her up enough that he could barely reach her clit, as she ground her asshole down onto his wrist. When Cindy started moaning and thrashing in the next bed, both broke their current kiss, and looked over. Cindy was lying on her back, her skirt up to her waist, and Dick's hand was wriggling between her legs as her head flopped back and forth, her eyes tightly shut. That she was having an orgasm was obvious.

Denise reacted in a way that surprised her, as much as it surprised Dave. She crawled up on top of him, pulling at her skirt, and pressed her naked pussy directly against the lump her knee had been playing with. Then, her hips flexing, she dry-fucked him until she was babbling with joy. Somehow she had known how to do this thing she had never done before, and it was just as fantastic as she had known it would be as she scrambled into position. Dave's hands, on her breasts, squeezing them and pinching her nipples while she came, only made it better. She used one hand to try to pull the dress off her shoulders, so he could touch them naked, but it wouldn't work. By then, she was in the middle of the best orgasm she'd ever had, and concentrated on that.

The quiet in the room, after both girls had filled it with their moans, screams, and grunts, was so complete that Dave could actually hear Dick kiss Cindy's lips, making a soft smacking sound. Denise was lying on top of him, exhausted from her cum, and he was stroking her back gently. Her weight on his stiff prick felt good, the way it feels good to wake up in the night with the bed pressing against your boner. He looked over to confirm what he had heard, and saw Dick kissing Cindy repeatedly, with slow, light, lip-sucking kisses. Dick's finger was still in her, but it wasn't moving any more. As he watched, he saw Dick carefully extract that finger from his little girl's pussy. He didn't feel anger, or jealousy. What he felt was pride that his best friend knew that her pussy would be sticky, clasping, and sensitive, after her cum, and that he needed to remove his finger slowly. He saw Dick bring that finger to his lips and suck it.

"What are you doing?" moaned Cindy, still breathing hard.

"Tasting you," he said.

"Oooo ick!" moaned the girl.

"You taste good," said Dick.

"That was fantastic," sighed Cindy. "I never felt anything like that... ever!"

"There's more where that one came from," said Dick softly.

Denise moved her face, which was covered by her hair, and reached up to pull her hair back. Her eyes stared into Dave's.

"Is there more for me too?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"Lots more," said Dave, kissing her nose.

"I feel you," she said. "You're hard."

"Uh huh," he said, kissing her nose again.

"You want me to touch it?"

"Oh, yeah," he sighed.

"I don't know how," she said.

"I'll teach you."

Cindy rolled her head to see her best friend started undressing her father. When she realized what was happening, she felt some energy return to her sated body, and she sat up. Dick wasn't waiting. He, too, had seen what was going on in the next bed. Cindy decided that the dress was confining, and pulled it over her head as Dick shucked his jeans and shirt. She stared, as he lay back down, the first hard prick she had ever seen, jutting from a nest of brown hair.

She looked curiously, and then turned her head, to try to see her father's. She knew about both kinds, having seen both on the internet. Most of the ones she'd seen were like Dick's, which had a large darker head, with a thin neck behind it, and then a bigger veined shaft under that. As her father lifted his hips, and Denise pulled his jeans down, his prick flopped onto his belly. His looked different. You couldn't see the head, because of skin covering it.

Her head swiveled back to Dick's... "dick"... she decided. It wasn't a penis, and it wasn't a prick. It was a dick, because it was on Uncle Dick. She remembered his thick finger in her pussy, and stared at the big blunt head, that was impossibly too large to fit in a pussy, even though she knew that's where it had been when her best friend had been concieved. She could see, intuitively, that, once the head was past her pussy lips, they'd close down tightly around that thinner neck. It didn't occur to her that she was thinking about getting that dick in her pussy. It was more along the lines of seeing something that was obviously painful and thinking "Oh, that would hurt!"

Cindy had heard her father say "I'll teach you," and now she went to the other side of the bed, to half lie on it, with her knees on the floor. She could look past Dick's dick, and watch. She didn't want to wait, though, and reached out to test what Dick's dick felt like.

It was hot, and it was very hard, but it was also velvety soft, somehow. She squeezed it, experimentally, and Dick sighed. She looked up, but Denise was in the way. Her arm was moving, but Cindy couldn't see her hand. It didn't occur to her to ask Dick what to do. Instead she said "Be right back," and scampered over to peer over Denise's shoulder. Denise had her hand wrapped firmly around her father's penis, and was sliding it up and down the stiff stalk. Cindy could see the loose skin on the outside moving, uncovering the head, which looked like Dick's, when it was uncovered, and then covering it up again when her hand came up. Denise looked up at her friend.

"This is so cool," she breathed.

"Gotta go," said Cindy, and scampered back to her man.

The problem was, that there was no loose skin on Dick's dick to move. Her hand wouldn't slide, easily and quickly, like Denise was doing.

"What's wrong?" she asked, getting frustrated.

"It works better when I have some hand cream, or something slippery," said Dick, who was having fun, regardless of how effective her strokes were.

"I don't have anything like that!" she complained. "I do at home, but not here."

"There's soap in the bathroom," he suggested. "Just lather up your hand, and come back."

She ran to the bathroom and did just that. When she got back she smiled widely as her hand now slid easily up and down. She could feel all the bumps, and the thin neck behind the head. It felt wonderful, sliding through her hand.

"Oh, baby," moaned Dick. "That feels soooo goood."

"I like it too," she said, almost shyly. "It feels good in my hand."

She played with the head, sliding her fingers around it, and along the circumference of the neck, underneath. He groaned and his hips bounced. She'd have played with it more, but he asked her to stroke it.

"You're going to squirt sperm," she said, moving her hand faster, "aren't you?"

"Ohhhh yeah, sweetie... any minute now... just keep that up."

Denise's squeal of excitement signaled that she had gotten there first, and Cindy turned to see a thick stream of white leap up past Denise's shoulder, to fall and disappear again. Denise's arm was moving very fast now, and Cindy turned back to copy that speed.

Dick sat halfway up, and then flopped back down, and the thing in Cindy's hand pulsed. A stream of white goo, just like the one she'd seen over Denise's shoulder, leapt into the air, and fell straight back down onto her hand. It was hot, and that heat surprised her, but she kept jerking as more and more of the stuff shot out. Each stream went a little less far in the air, until all she could get was an ooze of the stuff, out of the little hole in the tip. Dick's hand came to hers.

"Stop now," he panted. "It's too sensitive to keep going."

She knew what that felt like. His finger had done the same thing. Her orgasm had gone from something so sweet that she was sure she'd never feel anything better, when his thick finger, rubbing her clit, had suddenly become painful. He'd stopped, just then, and the pain vanished, leaving her feeling only the nice fullness of his finger, spreading her tunnel apart.

She didn't want to let go, because now it felt different. It wasn't as hard, and seemed to have shrunk. She watched, amazed, as it shrank more, until she could squeeze the column and her fingers sank into it.

"Easy," he moaned.

Finally she took her hand off of it, and watched sadly as it fell over, limp and tiny looking. She looked at her hand, which was covered with suds, and his sperm, which didn't feel so hot any more. She brought her hand close, to stare at the stuff, and then sniffed, but didn't smell anything other than a slight musky odor, barely discernable within the smell of the soap.

He had tasted her, when he was done. She knew about blow jobs, and that some girls claimed to swallow this stuff, but she couldn't bring herself to taste it. Her other hand came up, though, and smeared through it, feeling how slippery it was. It would make the perfect thing to masturbate him with. She stifled a giggle as she realized there was a catch 22 there. It was the perfect lubricant, but you couldn't get it out... without another lubricant.

Denise had gotten spunk all over her hand too, and she stood up, the dress settling back into position. She turned around.

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