My teen cousin Carol told me she had many other experiences with
grownup men, in addition to her adventure with the electrical repairman
jerking off outside her window while he watched her rub her pussy.
She said it was amazing how many merchants, policemen, fathers, ministers
and others were absolutely crazy about peeking up under her dress and
otherwise showing her they were interested in her sexually. In fact,
she really filled up my ears (and stiffened by young prick) with her tales.
For example, she said the old guy who ran the doughnut shop in the
nearby shopping center was just freaky about young girls. Carol said
she found out about that from Wanda, a girl in my grade. (I'm one
years
younger than Carol, so Wanda would have only been about 18 years old at
the
time of Carol's story.)
Wanda told Carol she had been getting free doughnuts from that guy for
years, and her mother thought it was just that the man gave away free
doughnuts to all the kids. But Wanda told her the secret was that
you
had to show the man your panties.
So, Carol told me, she tried it one day when the doughnut shop was
pretty busy. When no one was looking, she ducked behind the counter
and squatted in a corner where only the man could see her. When he
bent down to get some jelly-filled doughnuts for a customer, he spotted
her there and started to say something. But he remained silent when
Carol opened her legs to show him the crotch of her panties stretched
tight across her 19-year-old pussy. In fact, he smiled at her real
big and handed her one of the jelly doughnuts. Carol told me she
had been back lots of times, and had found out the deal was one
doughnut for a show of panties, and three doughnuts if she pulled
her underpants down and showed him her naked pussy. Sometimes, she
and Wanda would go together and get a half dozen doughnuts by just
opening their jeans and pulling the front of their underpants down to
display the pink folds of their little pussies.
Carol said she thought the doughnut man was kind of unusual, because,
unlike most other grownups, he never tried to show Carol his own equipment.
Nor did he ever try to touch her. Of course, Carol was always ready
to get
a gander at another penis, so she was a little disappointed. But
she said
the no-touching part was all right with her, because the previous summer
she had a real scare with the temporary popsicle man.
I remembered the guy she was talking about. He filled in for the
regular
driver in our neighborhood for a week at the end of the summer. He
was
younger than our regular guy -- about 32 or so -- and I thought he was
real nice. But Carol said she suspected he was sexually interested
in
teen gals because he encouraged the younger ones to come up into his
truck and choose their own ice cream, picking them up to let them look
down into the freezers. Sure enough, when he picked Carol up to let
her
gaze down into the glass-covered freezer compartments, she felt his
fingers insinuate themselves into the crack in her bottom.
At the moment this was happening, she told me, she wasn't worried; she
was just glad to find another guy who would probably give her something
free if she showed him her crotch. So she smiled over her shoulder
to
indicate it was all right with her if he felt her up. Right away,
she
said, the young man reached between her thighs and pulled her shorts and
underpants out of the way so he could stroke the bare flesh of her
little cunt. Carol said she felt scared and vulnerable all of a sudden,
suspended in the cool, dark space of the ice cream truck while a
stranger ran his fat fingers back and forth between the pink lips
of her pussy. Especially because no one else was around the truck
at
that moment.
After a few seconds of fondling her crack, though, the ice cream man put
her down, apparently forgetting about her ice cream. "You better
not
ever tell anyone about this or I'll do something terrible to you," he
suddenly growled.
When Carol assured him she wouldn't tell, the guy quickly leaned out
the window of his truck to make sure no one was coming and then opened
his pants to release his stiffening cock. My cousin said she wasn't
really surpised that he was doing that, but she was surprised at the
size of the fleshy hose he hauled out of his underwear. She said
the
ice cream guy had a really big one -- about seven or eight inches long
and getting longer as it stiffened before her wide eyes. She told
me
it was red and knarly, with veins sticking out all over the shaft and
skin covering up the end of it. He grabbed her wrist roughly, pulled
her over and put her hand on the meaty shaft.
"Jack me off real nice and I'll give you a free popsicle," he leered
down at her.
Carol said she started to move the skin back and forth on the erecting
pillar of flesh projecting from the ice cream man's crotch, imitating
the action she had seen on the electrical lineman outside her window.
But, even as the hot, throbbing cock stiffened even more as she stroked
it, she felt herself wilting before the intensity of the gaze the man
fastened on her. She became afraid that she wasn't doing it right.
She
apparently needn't have worried, though, because the man grunted and
reached below his twitching cock to extract his balls from his underwear.
As Carol masturbated the steel-hard shaft, which was now nearly nine inches
long, he rubbed and stretched the hairy sack in time with her manipulations.
"Here," he suddenly grunted, "you're not going fast enough. I'll
do
myself while I do you too."
Carol said she wasn't feeling particularly sexually excited, but was
afraid to say anything. Reaching down, the man tugged Carol's shorts
and underpants to her ankles. He then lifted her up and sat her bare
bottom on the frigid glass top of the ice cream chest and positioned her
so her gaping thighs exposed the pink inner lips of her little cunt.
As
he began pounding his fist furiously up and down his straining, nine-inch
boner, he spread my cousin's thighs wider and probed between the nude
lips of her pussy with the middle finger of his other hand while also
using another finger to poke at her asshole. Of course, she was too
small to take anything that big into her cunt, so he could have really
hurt her. She told me she was too scared to cry out. Luckily
for Carol,
the ice cream man's big cock began erupting almost immediately, before
his forceful probing could drive his fingers very far into her virginal
canals.
Carol told me she just sat there with her thighs spread wide, fascinated
at the close-up sight of the seemingly-endless spurts of milky fluid
surging from the end of the man's thobbing dick. She was glad to
see him
smile at her as he squeezed the final few drops onto the metal floor
of the ice cream truck. After reminding her she couldn't tell anyone,
he gave her a free ice cream bar. And he gave her another free one
every other day he came by, but she didn't have to show him her underpants
or anything. He just recognized her and gave her a freebie.
Although the ice cream man never again asked to see her pussy that week,
Carol said she got to see his cock again. Later that week, she saw
his
truck parked on a nearby street, so she headed over to get a free
popsicle. When she peeked in the truck, she saw the ice cream man
masturbating while he sucked Russel Wharton's cock. I guess I was
a
little shocked at that, because Russel was younger than me -- 18
years old
at that time.