Allen Whitten

The teaser next door

CHAPTER ONE

The fucking ache had been building for most of the day. Wendy even felt as though it had been building for much longer than that. A week at least. It had been that long since her abortive evening with Andrew.

Andrew. The name even sounded like that of a small child. And despite his six-foot height, he had been little more than a child when it came to fucking a sexually-eager seventeen-year-old girl.

Namely Wendy Halliburton.

If she really wanted to be honest, Andrew was the worst but his predecessors hadn't been the greatest set of fuckers she had ever known. Most of them were quick-shot artists like Red Hardy.

God, what she'd give for a good, honest-to-God hard fucking. A real first-class fuck.

Maybe tonight, with Phillip of the broad shoulders, and well-filled blue jeans, she would get her wish.

She gazed at herself in the mirror. She was wearing nothing but a pair of baby-blue panties, low-slung bikini bottoms, with the dark triangle of her pubic hair outlined just above the vee of her crotch.

Her firm young tits stood coral-tipped on her high rib cage, and her belly was sleek and flat. There was no baby fat on her teenaged body, though she could by no means be called lean. The flesh and muscle had achieved a happy medium on her nubile body. She was what the boys at school called stacked.

She took great pride in her big tits, reveled in the effect it had on those young bucks who lounged against the walls at school, whistling low and moaning softly when she passed, whispering lewd remarks just loud enough for her to hear.

Let them look, feast their eyes on her tits, dream their wet dreams, wake up in the morning with their shorts sticky. A man needed to have some sense of what paradise was.