Kimmy Masterson sat on the white rattan bench seat in front of her big bay window and stared out at the house next door. It was where her boyfriend Sam had lived before he went to prison. At sixteen, Kimmy felt like her life was already over.

Twelve years! she thought. How could she wait twelve years for Sam to get out of jail?

She knew she would wait, though. After all, Sam had been her first ... in fact, her only.

Kimmy's mind drifted back to that hot day last September when she went next door to ask Laurie if she could use the pool. Laurie was Sam's girlfriend at the time, and though three years older than Kimmy, the two girls had hit it off right from the start.

That sultry September afternoon, when Sam told Kimmy that Laurie had moved out, Kimmy started to cry. She really liked Laurie. Not that she didn't like Sam, too. Even though he was forty, she had always thought he was hot, especially when she ogled him through her bedroom window swimming laps in his sexy Speedo. It never crossed her mind at the time, though, to make a move on him. After all, Laurie was her friend.

Sam had looked terrible that day, and he had reeked of booze. Kimmy still didn't know exactly what triggered their tryst. Sam joined her in the backyard for a swim, she asked him to put sunscreen on her shoulders, and the next thing she knew he was lathering it all over her body. He seemed out of it, in a daze. Maybe that explained how his fingers ended up in her pussy, Kimmy wasn't sure. Regardless, it had felt delicious, naughty, and Kimmy had experienced her very first orgasm that day under Sam's probing digits.

Afterward she felt she owed him a similar turn, so she jerked him off until he sprayed her body down with cum, even shooting some onto her face and lips. That was when she discovered she liked the taste of it. And when Sam carried her like a weightless marionette up to his bedroom, she discovered she liked fucking even more.

They tried it all that day—oral, vaginal, anal—and Kimmy fell totally, irretrievably in love. If not for that slut Nikki, she and Sam probably would still be together. Kimmy didn't know whether a thirteen-year-old girl could technically seduce a forty-year-old man, but she was sure that was what Nikki had done with Sam. And the Sam she knew would never have abused drugs the way the newspapers reported at the time of his sentencing. It must have been Nikki's influence, of that Kimmy was positive.

And now...

Now Kimmy had no one left to talk with, no one to help her work through this morass of confusion that was darkening her soul. Her parents had divorced when she was five, and during the week her mother trotted the globe for Centrodyne Inc., a local high-tech firm. Kimmy couldn't talk to her mother about this anyway, even on the weekends when she was home. Mrs. Masterson didn't know about Sam, didn't know that he and Kimmy had been living together during the week, fucking like two school kids at summer camp. And Kimmy couldn't confess that to her now, she just couldn't.

Kimmy was sure Sam had protected her from the maelstrom that surrounded his arrest. The police had interviewed her, but they obviously didn't know she and Sam were lovers. She had sent numerous letters to Sam in jail, but he hadn't replied to one. What did that mean? Didn't he love her anymore? Or was he still trying to protect her? Damn it, she didn't need protecting! She was sixteen, almost a woman. All she wanted was an indication, some small sign, that he still cared for her, and she would wait for him like a stoic princess would abide her Prince Charming. Or at least she would try. Now that the sexual floodgates had been opened, she didn't know if she could go without fucking for twelve years. But she would take that challenge as it came, one day at a time. Twelve years. Four thousand, three hundred and eighty days. Oh God!

If only she had a confidant. Other than Sam and Nikki, her only other close friend was Laurie. But Kimmy had spoken to Laurie only once since she left Sam for that black boy. What was his name? Oh yes—Junior. Kimmy couldn't understand why Laurie would trade someone as sexy as Sam for another man, let alone a black one. Not that Kimmy was prejudiced. Black men had just never appealed to her. Granted, she hadn't been exposed to many, but the ones she had met seemed so arrogant, so full of themselves. Luckily, living in the whitebread section of the city she didn't have much to do with them.

Kimmy reached for the telephone on the dark oak stand beside the bench. Her hand trembled for a second, and then she grabbed the receiver and punched in Laurie's number. She had looked it up earlier but was hesitant to call. But now that she had examined all her options, she realized she didn't have a choice. Laurie was the only one she could talk to. Kimmy didn't know if Laurie knew about her and Sam. She hoped it wouldn't come as too big a shock, wouldn't turn her friend against her. She didn't think it would. After all, it was Laurie who had walked out on Sam, not vice versa.

The phone rang twice, three times, and a deep basso voice answered. "Hello?"

Kimmy didn't reply. The shock of hearing what was obviously a black man's voice rattled her. She had expected Laurie to pick up the phone.

The voice growled, "Who is this?"

"I—is Laurie there?" Kimmy asked.

"Just a minute."

She heard the man holler, and then Laurie came on the line. "Hello?"

"Hi, Laurie. It's me ... Kimmy."

"Kimmy! How are you, girl?"

"Okay, I guess."

"You sound a little down. Is everything all right?"

"Yes ... I mean, no ... I mean ... well, some things have happened. I really need to talk to somebody. I thought maybe we could—"

"Absolutely!" Laurie said. "I haven't seen you in so long. Let's get together and have a good old chinwag."

Kimmy was relieved, at least for the moment. She still wasn't sure how Laurie would take the news that she had fucked her ex-boyfriend. Kimmy didn't want to break that to her over the phone, though. "Great," she said. "Can you come over this afternoon?"

"Over there?" Laurie hesitated. "Gee, I don't know. I mean, with Sam's situation and all. Is the neighborhood still crawling with cops?"

"They still come around," Kimmy said, "but not as much. I think they've got everything they need."

"I just don't want to get involved in that mess. You know?"

"Sure," Kimmy said. She tried to keep her voice light, but her heart felt like a block of cement.

"Why don't you come over here?" Laurie said. "Bring your PJs and we'll have a sleepover, just like old times."

"I-I don't know..." Kimmy hesitated. Not only was she apprehensive about being under the same roof with a black man, she was responsible for looking after her house while her mother was out of town.

"Come on," Laurie said. "It'll do you good to get away from there for a while."

Kimmy didn't speak for several seconds. Then: "Well ... okay, I guess."

"Good," Laurie said, and gave her directions.

Laurie lived on the far side of town. It would take two or three bus transfers to get there. Kimmy would have to get ready first—shower, pick out some clothes, pack an overnight bag. With the time on the bus, she figured it would be mid-afternoon before she could arrive.

"How does three o'clock sound?" she asked.

"Great," Laurie said. "That'll give you a chance to meet the guys."

"Guys?"

"Yeah. Junior, Dearl, and James."

"Oh." Kimmy hadn't realized Laurie was living with three men. A lump swelled in her throat. But she couldn't back out now.

"Three o'clock?" Laurie said.

"Three o'clock," Kimmy agreed.

Goodbyes were said, and Kimmy hung up the phone. She had best get started. She couldn't wait to bare her soul to her friend, and hopefully get some direction to help her navigate through this dilemma.

Laurie replaced the handset in the cradle and returned to the kitchen to finish the previous night's dishes. Kimmy! Imagine! She hadn't heard from her little friend in such a long time. In fact, she could only remember speaking to her once since she'd moved in with Junior and his housemates, and then for just a few minutes. It was going to be nice having some laughs over old times. Maybe Kimmy could give her the straight poop on what had happened with Sam. All Laurie knew was what she'd read in the newspapers. After leaving Sam for Junior she had never spoken to him again nor tried to keep up with the goings-on in his life. The accounts she'd read had come as quite a shock—possession of cocaine, pimping, sex with minors. The papers reported that the two girls involved were thirteen and fourteen. Laurie knew that Sam liked them young—she was only eighteen herself the first time they fucked—but, geez, these were little teenyboppers! Oh well, she supposed Sam would have the next twelve years to reconsider his faux pas.

Laurie rinsed a plate under the tap and was setting it in the dish-rack when she felt something hard poke against her butt. Before she could turn around, two big black hands encircled her from behind and smothered her breasts through her T-shirt. A blue onyx ring the size of a robin's egg sat on the pinky finger of the right hand.

Dearl, she thought. That wasn't a surprise. This early in the morning it was always Dearl. When Laurie had first moved in she'd thought she'd be exclusively with Junior. Boy, was she wrong! Junior wasn't the possessive type, and before long she was servicing not only him but his two roommates as well. She didn't mind, though. Both Dearl and James had nice cocks—not as big as Junior's thirteen-inch python, but still long and hard and plump. Dearl's cock was creeping up between her legs now, lifting the hem of her short denim skirt like a magician's cheap levitation trick.

She reached down and stroked the underside of the long black stalk, starting at where it seemed to be growing from between her thighs, and then trailing toward the kitchen counter, which it was trying damned hard to reach. When her fingers reached the end of the black-purple crown, she cupped it in her palm and caressed her thumb along the top of it. As she tickled his pole, Dearl sawed it back and forth between her legs until it stiffened into a gleaming nine-inch battering ram.

Laurie squeezed her hand around it and turned her head to scold Dearl. But before she could get a word out, his face swooped down and filled her mouth with a thick wedge of juicy tongue. Her cunt began to cream, soaking Dearl's ebony rod with her juices.

Dearl was the best kisser of the three. His hot tongue slavering inside her mouth always got her so damned hot it was almost embarrassing. She felt Dearl's knees bend into the backs of her legs, and then his prick was tickling her clit, trying to slither between her pussy lips. As soon as it gained purchase, Dearl straightened up and impaled her.

"Mmpphh!" she moaned into his mouth. With his hands behind her thighs he lifted her into a sitting position on his tool. She pulled her lips from his, gasping. "Oh God, Dearl!"

"Yeah, baby," he said, pumping his hips. "You slippery this morning."

He drove his prick deeper and deeper until Laurie had to clasp her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out.

"You one hot little bitch this morning," Dearl said. "You hot for Dearl's meat, ain'tcha?"

Laurie took her hand away from her mouth and gasped again. "God, yes, I'm hot for your big black meat. Fuck me, Dearl!"

"I'll be fucking you all right. I'll be fucking you right over there on that table."

Holding Laurie suspended in the air, Dearl waddled across the floor and eased her facedown onto the chrome-legged kitchen table until her belly hugged the glass top and her ass was perched over the edge. He squeezed her jean skirt up over her butt, grasped her hips, and slammed his cock into her cunt.

"Oh, God, Dearl! You feel so good!"

"Maybe we be making us a little baby this morning, what do you think?"

That took Laurie out of the moment. This was a sore point with her. Junior insisted that she not use birth control. If she were just with him she could accept that—she wanted a baby, too, and she loved Junior—but now he had her fucking his two friends as well, and she couldn't live with not knowing whose child she might conceive. So surreptitiously she was on the Pill, but she had to maintain the pretense, otherwise Junior would be mad. He was already cool to her. She suspected he was boffing some of the other girls in the hood. That slut Mawanda hung around their place way too much.

Laurie's deceit felt uncomfortable, but acting was her forte. "Yes, Dearl! Make me a baby. I want your baby."

Dearl dug his fingers into her ass and pummeled her with his cock. "Oh, you be getting one, I think. This is a baby-making load for sure." A gorilla grunt blew from his lips as he buried his dick in her as far as it would go. "Fuck, yeah, baby! Take it!"

Laurie ground her hips back at him, rotating her cunt on his shaft. She felt a sea of splooge explode into her, drenching her insides. "Oh, God, Dearl, you're filling me. I can feel it. It's a torrent."

Dearl jabbed her with short sharp strokes. "Unghh! Your cunt feels so fucking good, baby. So fucking tight."

A warm glow touched Laurie's heart. Dearl was the only one of the three men who said such nice things to her. She couldn't imagine she was still tight, though. Not after servicing three monster dicks this past year.

His balls finally empty, Dearl collapsed onto her back. Laurie turned her head, and their tongues coiled around each other.

"Come away with me," Dearl said. "You know I love you."

Not again, Laurie thought. Dearl was sweet, but she couldn't leave Junior and his beautiful thirteen-inch dick. "Dearl, I told you, I can't."

A hurt expression pinched Dearl's face. He straightened up and pulled his cock out of her with a sloppy plop.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

Laurie looked toward the voice. James was standing in the doorway from the living room, a grin on his face.

"A little mid-morning delight?" he said. "Don't mind if I do."

Laurie had been ready to get up, but she wouldn't bother now. She watched James drop his black silk robe, exposing a landscape of hard abs and pecs and glutes. He was a weightlifter, and kept his head and body totally shaved, including his cock and groin.

"How about a little warm-up," he said, pressing his prick against Laurie's lips. It was semi-hard, maybe nine of the eleven inches it would ultimately grow to. Laurie liked sucking James's cock. It was nice not having a Brillo pad scratching her cheeks while she was trying to swallow a dick. She wrapped her hand around the shaft and slathered her tongue over the glans, enjoying the pungent taste of the pre-cum drooling from the tip. James grabbed her head in both hands, plunged his dick into her mouth, and started jackhammering it down her neck.

Laurie had to concentrate hard to keep her throat relaxed so she wouldn't gag. As James speeded up his assault, her eyes began to water until she could barely see. James wasn't big on foreplay. He liked it rough, but Laurie was used to that now. Actually, she preferred James's brand of manhandling to Dearl's gentler, more loving ways.

"Shit, baby," James said, jerking his groin hard into her face, "that's one hot little mouth. I may have to come back to it later." He pulled his dick from her lips and stepped behind her. He spread her pussy lips with two fingers. "Fuck, nigger, look what you did. You fucking slimed her."

"Fuck you!" Dearl shot back from his spot at the kitchen counter.

Laurie knew James was right. She could feel Dearl's thick load bubbling out of her cooze.

"No, fuck this," James said. She felt his finger tickle her bunghole, and then his dick was sliding through the folds of her pussy, collecting goo. Suddenly his cock was in her ass, pounding her until she thought it might erupt out of her mouth.

"Nngghh!" she grunted through clenched teeth.

"Yeah," James said. "You like little Malcolm up your butt, don't you, baby?"

Laurie gasped. "I love little Malcolm. I love him everywhere."

"You one sick fuckin' nigger," Dearl said.

James froze, his dick lodged eleven inches up Laurie's behind. She turned her head and saw the two men glaring at each other.

"I'll show you who's sick, nigger," James said. "You'll be so sick you'll be crawling out of here."

Dearl took a step toward him. Laurie figured it was time to intervene. "It's okay, Dearl. It's just a little game James and I play. I can name yours, too, if you want."

Dearl wagged his head in a pathetic shake. "Spare me," he said, and stormed toward the living room door. On his way out Laurie heard him mutter, "Sick motherfucker."

James slid his hands up Laurie's back, grazing her tanned flesh from hips to neck. "Now where were we?" He grabbed her shoulders, drew his cock back, and punched it eleven inches up her butt again.

"Oh God, James! You're tickling my tonsils with that thing."

James reached around and stuck two big black fingers in her mouth. "You mean these tonsils?"

"Ung-hungh," Laurie said, trying not to choke.

With his left hand gripping her shoulder and his right hand fish-hooking her face, James ratcheted up his assault, ramming his cock up Laurie's ass like a pile driver set on high. With each thrust her thighs banged against the table and her belly skidded along the glass. James jerked her head around using his fingers in her mouth, leaned over, and poked his tongue between her lips, his fingers still in place. Even though her mouth was stretched so wide it hurt, Laurie tried to wiggle her tongue against James's tongue and his three invading digits. His left hand was digging into her shoulder like a talon, and her ass felt like a bomb had gone off inside it. James had her head twisted around so far she thought it might wrench off. Fucking James was always an experience in pain, she knew, but there was pleasure in it, too. More than enough to compensate for the punishment her body was taking.

James increased the speed of his cornholing, and a cyclone began to build in Laurie's belly. She squeezed her hand down between her thighs and frigged her clit, and her body started to shake as if a freight train were roaring through it.

James yanked his fingers from her mouth and smacked her ass hard. "Yeah! Cum on my cock, you little ho."

"Yes!" Laurie hissed. "Yes, I'm your little whore. Fuck me! I'm cumming!"

James reached around and grabbed her chin and bent her body backward until she thought her spine might snap. As he continued pummeling her ass, her fingers flew over her clit like hummingbird wings. The muscles in her belly contracted, and a flurry of shivers exploded down her spine.

James jerked his cock out of her and dragged her off the table, driving her to her knees. He plunged his cock into her mouth and fucked her face as hard as he had ravaged her butthole. Clutching her head, he mashed her nose into his belly and ground his cock down her throat. His abs felt like a granite wall against Laurie's face.

"Swallow this, bitch!" he yelled.

She grabbed his clenching butt cheeks, and a thick gusher of sperm flooded her throat. She gurgled and spluttered and gagged, trying to swallow it all. His dick blasted out four more good-sized geysers as Laurie tried to eat it all. Finally he released her head and she pulled back, hacking and spewing out long phlegmy ribbons of semen.

"Morning, Junior," she heard James say.

She looked up and saw her other black lover entering the kitchen. Junior was bare-chested, wearing black athletic shorts. She coughed again, sending a fresh streamer of sperm splattering at his feet.

"You want some of this?" James asked, pointing at her.

Junior made a face and shook his head. He stepped around the puddle of goo on the floor and went over to get a coffee. Laurie followed him with her eyes. She was hurt that he'd refused his turn. It was becoming commonplace.

Junior took a sip from his mug, glaring at her. "I hope you're planning to clean this mess up," he said.

The dagger twisted another turn in Laurie's heart. She lowered her eyes and nodded.

"Fucking cunt's getting sloppy in her old age," Junior said.

James pulled his robe back on. "Come on, man, she ain't that old. Her pussy might be a little loose, but her ass is still nice and tight. And she can almost swallow my whole load now."

Junior blew out a derisive laugh. "From that little thing?" He pointed at James's dick, now hanging limp between his legs. Even soft it was a good seven inches long.

Only Junior could call an eleven-inch pecker a little thing, Laurie thought. At six-foot-four he had two inches on James, both height-wise and cock-wise.

"Why you gotta say stuff like that, man?" James said, anger clouding his face.

Junior smirked at him.

James stomped into the living room and up the stairs.

Junior gave Laurie another icy stare. She got up off her knees and went to fetch a rag.

At 2:45 that afternoon, Kimmy stepped off the number six bus at the corner of Grand and Sebastian Streets and looked at the scrap of paper in her hand: 2455 Sebastian. Scanning the house numbers, she saw she had to go north. She tugged on the front straps of her backpack, hiking it up so it was comfortable on her shoulders. Inside there was a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and her cosmetics kit. Her mother frowned on her wearing makeup, but Kimmy had wanted to look nice for her visit with Laurie. Her lips were glazed with hot-pink gloss, her eyes made up with a mauvy-red eye shadow that complemented her outfit—a yellow half-tank top that exposed her flat belly, and pink terry cloth shorts. The shorts were a little small. Today was laundry day, but she hadn't had time to do the wash before leaving. So she'd had to make do. A few months ago the shorts had fit fine, but she'd experienced a growth spurt since then. Not much of one, just enough to add another inch to her height. She now stood five-foot-one, with the heels on her white sandals adding another two inches. She had tried to wear panties under the shorts, but the pantyline was so obvious that she decided to forego them.

She reached behind her and tugged at the wedge of terry cloth that had crawled up her butt, then started her trek. Crossing the street at Sebastian and Scott she heard a loud wolf whistle off to her left, and turned her head. Four black men were shooting hoops behind the cyclone fence of an asphalted schoolyard. The man who had whistled was staring at her, and now the other men stopped their game and focused their attention on her as well. They were massive, all over six feet tall. The sweat on their naked torsos glistened like raindrops on black marble.

"Check out them little muffins," the whistler said.

"Mm-mm, tasty," a second man chirped in.

Kimmy knew she wasn't big in the chest department, but having her breasts compared to baked goods embarrassed her. She jerked her eyes forward again and quickened her pace.

"Nice ass, too," a third voice said.

"That's it, baby, you hustle back to yo momma before you get a taste of black meat and never want to go home."

The storm of laughter that followed propelled Kimmy into a slow jog. Her dirty-blonde ponytail danced around her face, and her shorts slid up her butt again

"Look at those little ass cheeks sing," one of the men said. A fresh flurry of guffaws filled the air.

Kimmy was relieved when she finally got out of earshot. She had to fight not to look back. Those hard black bodies had been almost mesmerizing.

Two blocks later she saw the number 2455 on an old wooden two-story. The exterior was dirty-white and peeling, in need of fresh paint. Kimmy swallowed hard and stepped up onto the rickety porch. For a second she considered turning back, then remembered the men at the schoolyard. Gathering her courage, she knocked on the door. As it opened her knees began to tremble. When she saw Laurie she breathed a sigh of relief.

Laurie cracked a big smile. "Kimmy! Long time no see, girl." She gave Kimmy a big hug and led her inside.

Kimmy slipped off her backpack, her eyes prowling the living room for Laurie's housemates.

"The guys aren't here right now," Laurie said. "They'll be back later."

Kimmy nodded, and the butterflies in her stomach crawled back into their cocoon for the moment.

Laurie motioned her to a red upholstered chair and sat on the couch facing it. "So, girl, how have you been?"

The insects in Kimmy's gut came alive again. "Not too good. I have something to tell you, I hope you won't be mad."

A half-smile tugged at Laurie's lips. "What is it?"

Kimmy told her about the day last September when Sam had taken her virginity, how they had become live-in lovers, and how Sam was subsequently seduced by Nikki. Laurie listened attentively, nodding her head now and then. Her face didn't betray any anger, which was a relief to Kimmy. By the time Kimmy was finished, Laurie's smile had morphed into a weird-looking grin.

Laurie listened to the end of Kimmy's tale and felt a smirk twist onto her lips.

The little wench! Imagine, a fifteen-year-old girl getting it on with a forty-year-old man. Laurie thought she'd been young when Sam had fucked her that night at her mother's apartment. But fifteen! And according to Kimmy, Nikki was only thirteen when Sam started screwing her. Laurie couldn't imagine how a thirteen-year-old could pull off playing the part of a high-priced call girl, but apparently Nikki had.

"That's my Sam," Laurie said. "The younger, the better. The cocaine bit is hard to believe, though. He was always a straight arrow when we were together."

"I know," Kimmy said. "I can't believe it either. It had to be Nikki. She must have put him up to it."

Laurie nodded, although she didn't think thirteen-year-old Nikki had manipulated Sam into drugs any more than she believed the girl had seduced him into pimping her out. It was Sam's doing, of that she was sure. She had seen signs of it when they were together—not of dope or prostitution, but of a layer of sneakiness just below the surface. That was one of the reasons she'd left him: he was fucking her friend Janie. Not that she objected to their fooling around. Far from it. She had even set up a hot three-way with herself and the two of them. No, it was because he was fucking Janie behind her back.

Laurie got even with him, though, taking on three of her college buddies in his house the night before she left. Junior had been one of the three. She'd had her eye on him for a while, and that night, when he poked his big prick into her mouth and pussy and ass, she knew she'd found her man.

"I don't know what to do," Kimmy said. "I love him and all, but twelve years..."

"I don't think Sam would want you to wait," Laurie said. "I'm sure that's why he hasn't returned your letters. He knows twelve years is too long to carry a torch."

Kimmy seemed relieved. She sank back in her chair and sighed.

They heard the front door open, and a rumble of feet in the foyer. Laurie looked toward the archway and saw Junior and his friends coming in carrying a basketball. They were shirtless, dressed in loose athletic shorts and running shoes, their dark bodies shiny with sweat. Accompanying Junior, Dearl, and James was their new friend Rashad. The four had been hanging together a few months now. Laurie hadn't had the opportunity to fuck Rashad yet. Too bad. He was a hunk—Denzel Washington face, short nappy curls, lean physique. A regular black Adonis. Seeing him again, she had to fight the urge to curl her hand under her short jean skirt.

Junior and James flopped on the couch on either side of her, while Dearl and Rashad took the two easy chairs beside Kimmy. Kimmy's eyes had grown into giant orbs.

"Guys," Laurie said, "this is Kimmy. Kimmy, this is Junior, James, Dearl, and Rashad."

Kimmy gulped. "Hi."

Laurie noticed the girl's eyes checking out the guys' cocks, and a plan began to form in her head. Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone: help Kimmy get over Sam, and...

Kimmy almost melted into the chair when she saw the four black men enter the room. They were the basketball players from the schoolyard, the ones who had made the rude catcalls. It was obvious from their eyes that they recognized her, too. Her Adam's apple suddenly felt too big for her throat, and she had to concentrate hard just to swallow. As Laurie introduced them, Kimmy found herself staring not only at their faces but also at the large bulges in their shorts. She had to will herself to look away, although it was tough with Junior and James sandwiching Laurie on the couch in front of her.