Nell Morrow

Her Peak Of Passion

Chapter 1

Jo Daniels became conscious of the damp feeling at her crotch, turning cooler now in the night air coming through the open door of the patio. She bent over to look between her legs. A wet stain loomed accusingly there, and she hurried through the room on into her bedroom.

She undid her pants and peeled them away from her middle. Holding them up she looked again, as if fascinated by what she had done in them. She caught the heady scent of her honey on them, and somehow the pants drew close to her nose so that she could take the dizzying fragrance deep into her senses. She glimpsed at herself in the big mirror in the room, and shame washed over her again. She snatched the pants down, as if hiding her activities from herself, and glared at her image as if challenging it.

She had seen a young boy as she was coming home, and she had followed him to where he lived. He reminded her so much of Mario. It was as if Mario had never aged as she had. It had been ten years since that night with Mario, ten long, and most times, miserable years. When her parents had discovered what she had done, they had sent her off to a very strict convent. She had turned twenty-one while working many hours a day for her master's degree, then on for her doctorate in psychology. She had lost herself in her studies and research and had pushed sex out of her mind.

Now at twenty-eight, she found it all coming back as if it had been held in check all these years by a dam. Finally the dam had burst loose, and now she was being flooded with desire.

But, and she shuddered at the thought, men her own age or even older, didn't do a thing for her. It had to be a boy, any boy, as long as he was under eighteen. The younger the better. So far she had only pictured a sexual affair with a young boy. But, as her fantasies grew, so did her desires, and she became frightened of herself and what she might do if she had the opportunity.

That boy this afternoon, oh he reminded her so much of Mario.

Now, as she looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes started roving over the reflection of her form, flicking up and down her smooth legs, tracing the flaring curve of her firm asscheeks inside the nylon panties. She could see the way the skimpy material bunched at the little shelf where her round buttocks tucked under and joined the tops of her thighs. And she could see the way the skimpy nylon dipped into the deep cleft between the fresh, saucy globes.

As if taunting herself with her own wickedness, Jo turned her hips slightly until she saw the curving apex of her cunt. The blue panties were nearly black in a wide oval splotch right over her twat. She saw the thin material clinging wetly to her puffy cuntlips. There was a fine line running up the center of the wet patch where the nylon had dipped between the lips and exposed her slit. A few golden curls peeped out from under the leg bands of her panties and glistened damply.

Jo gasped at her reflection and then forced herself to hold still under the scrutiny. Her pelvis made a forward motion as she remembered the young boy and his resemblance to her long lost Mario. Now her thighs turned outward slightly in open invitation to a closer inspection.

In a moment she was trying to visualize her own pussy being stuffed full of the boy's cock. In and out, in and out, and now she was rocking with the motion of it. The dark spot seemed to grow a little bigger, and then it began to glisten as a fresh surge of water from her spring came trickling forth.

She tried harder to imagine what it would feel like to have the boy's stiff, piercing cock forcing its way between the wet, puffy lips of her cunt. Her gaze caressed her rotating bosom, and a sensuous need crept through her.

She sobbed once at her own wickedness and she clutched her breasts in her hands, squeezing them hard. The bra material bunched in her fingers along with the blouse, and she suddenly needed to have the garments off her body.

She knew it was wrong. She knew that once she started giving in and needing sex it was going to be difficult to hold it in check. She shuddered when she thought of how close she had come to grabbing the young boy; reaching down and pulling out his cock.

She squeezed her tits firmly, pressed her thighs together and sobbed with terrible need and frustration into the mirror.

Then somehow, in that way women do, she compromised with herself. The bra and blouse would stay on. The panties would definitely stay on. Then if she looked wanton and wicked in the mirror while she rolled her hips around, at least she'd know she really wasn't, since she was still wearing her clothes. And if something happened while she was innocently rolling her hips around-well…

A slow smile crept over her face. She looked at the round, big-eyed,, cute innocence of it and felt pleased with how cleverly she was going about this. She put her hands on her hips and let her pelvis move back and forth sensuously. She watched the play of her soft ass-cheeks inside the tight panties as she tightened the muscles and made her mound jump forward. She watched the way the wet nylon clung to the puffy labia underneath and began working inside her slit, rubbing with slippery touches up and down its length.

She pulled up at the waistband of the panties to increase the pressure of the nylon band running between her legs. Then she put one hand in front and one at the back, holding the panties tightly while she rocked her bottom back and forth in the nylon sling.

Oh, Mario, Mario, why aren't you here to help me? We could make so much love… Mario… Mario… and her mind drifted back, ten years, to when she had last seen him, and on back four more years to when she was just fourteen.

Jo sprawled on the back seat of the sedan and hooked the heel of one slender foot over the sill of the opened window. Between her widespread white thighs, the imitation leather of the seat cushion was cold against her naked buttocks-as cold as the fingers of the boy beside her, who was caressing the softly quivering mound of her belly.

Jo was just fourteen, and she was wildly excited. The nubile young blonde was used to petting with the high school boys in her crowd. She would let them reach up under her sweater, unfasten her tight lace brassiere, and massage her throbbing breasts when they were exposed. Sometimes she would even allow a boy's hand to stray down over her swollen pubic mound covered by her brief nylon panties. But that was all. She never got near to going the whole way with any of them. Until tonight…

And tonight was different. Mario was different, for a start. His mother had been Mexican and there was something about his dark handsome good looks that stirred unfamiliar tinglings deep down in Jo's loins-a chaotic mixture of fluttery curiosity, forbidden pleasure and a sheer, wicked thrill that caused her heart to pound and her blue eyes to shine lasciviously in the gloom of the garage. Mario was much older than the other boys she had been with. He was eighteen and there was a certain self-assurance about him, about the positive touch of his practiced fingers, the glint in his dark eyes and the angle of his head as he smiled quizzically down at her, that made her go all weak in the knees.

He had met her right after school and they had bought a couple of Cokes at the store. Mario poured out part of the contents and then refilled the bottles from a flask of whiskey he had in his hip pocket. They sipped at the Cokes as they walked.

For a while Jo and Mario had sat in the park, talking and smoking, and then when Mario had asked if she knew any place they could go, it had been Jo herself who had suggested her own garage. It was separated from the house by some tall shrubbery and you could get in the side door without being seen.

The pretty blond girl felt a guilty thrill ripple through her veins as she took the boy's lean dark hand and led him inside. The thought of petting with a strange youth, secretly shut up in her own dad's car only a few yards away from her unsuspecting parents, made her nipples ache with forbidden excitement!

But supposing her father decided to use the car again that evening? Jo tossed her long blond hair as she eased open the rear door of the sedan. The hell with it! You had to dare something to win something-wasn't that what they said?

Normally a cautious girl, she had been possessed of a curious lightheaded devil-may-care attitude ever since she had smoked that cigarette in the park. Mario had rolled it himself and it had a strange, sweetish, almost aromatic flavor. Jo wondered if there hadn't been marijuana mixed in with the tobacco-lots of the kids in her senior class smoked "grass" but she had never tried it herself. Sliding across the back seat to make room for Mario she shrugged to herself. What the hell, she thought again. If it was marijuana… well, she just preferred not to know! In any case it had tasted great! And she felt great! Mario was great! Everything was great!

After he pushed up her sweater and unfastened her flimsy brassiere, the boy began massaging her breasts into maddening hardness, rolling the nipples around and caressing the sensitive areolas with the palms of his hands. And then, he took one of the stiffly erect buds of flesh into his mouth. The gentle playing of his tongue around the sensitively quivering skin drove her to near desperation, so that she hardly noticed when his hand slipped up under the miniskirt and began to stroke the warm softness of her smooth inner thighs.

"No, Mario! Please! No!" she had gasped, sensing that as the youth's caresses grew more urgent, she might not be able to hold him back as easily as she could the younger high school boys.

But his hands kept on stroking her, roving the full length of her voluptuously curved body, over her flat white stomach, across her passionately heaving ribs, back to the hard ridge of her hips, and finally down to the nylon-sheathed softness of her trembling loins. But this time the hand did not stay outside. Mario insinuated his fingers slowly but insistently under the narrow elastic waistband of her panties and eased them down towards the silky curls of pubic hair in the tender "vee" between her thighs. As she shuddered and gasped with excitement, he stroked her there, slowly working his middle finger up into the moist virginal slit of her vagina, arousing a thrilling, tingling sensation that she had never experienced before. Still incoherently murmuring the automatic refusals that sprang unbidden to her lips, the aroused Jo squirmed around on the cold, leather of the car seat under the pressure of Mario's expert finger-fucking. Their breathing had become so heavy that the windows of the sedan were all fogged up.

And then-Jo never knew quite how it happened-her skirt was bunched up around her waist and her panties were off! As Mario rolled down the window to let in some air, she almost involuntarily spread her legs and rested one heel on the sill. Now, with the blood pulsating in her ears, she lay wondering excitedly what he would do to her next.

She heard the metallic rip of his zipper opening… and then suddenly a blunt, heavy pressure against her hip. It was his penis! It had to be! Jo had never felt one before and the muscles of her body contracted away automatically at the unfamiliar and disturbing touch.

She was about to protest and pull away from him when abruptly Mario hunched himself up over her reclining body and dropped down on his knees between her widely parted legs. She felt the hard bulge of his penis in the groove of her hip as he leaned forward and took the ripely swelling mound of one quivering breast in his two hands, dropping his head to suck the tautly throbbing nipple deep into his wet mouth.

"Ooooooooooh!" Jo moaned. "Oh, wow! Oh, Nooooooo! Don't!"

Her blond head moved dazedly from side to side on the seat as he began a gentle sucking pressure against the sensitive nipple between his lips. His hands dropped down to course lightly over the soft firmness of her waist and belly, stroking the tender skin to a trembling awareness that flamed suddenly through her loins. Knowing she should stop him now, before it was too late, Jo tried to protest again-but somehow the words stuck in her throat as his mouth played for long delicious moments around her throbbing breasts, moving from one to the other, his tongue trailing wetly through the wide fleshy valley between them.

And then his mouth was sliding hotly down over her trembling belly, his desire-swollen cock moving down the inside of her thigh, as his body slipped lower. Soft mewls and gasps of pleasure panted from her parted pink lips as he ground his tongue for a moment in her navel. Again she sought to stop him, but it was as though she had become temporarily paralyzed. She settled herself lower in the seat, overcome by the maddening patterns of indecent sensation trailing after his gently nipping teeth. She felt her thighs being pressed farther apart as he hunched himself up between them. She sucked in her breath with a shuddering gasp as she felt Ins thumbs on the softly quivering hair-covered lips of her vagina, splaying them apart, and the coolness of the garage air touched her there.

With a stifled moan, Mario dropped his head, and his tongue flicked forward, the tip teasing moistly against the tiny swollen bud of her clitoris.

The blond Jo jerked galvanically at the sudden tingling contact. "Aaaaaaaagh!" she moaned. "Ooooooh! Wow! No! No! No… we mustn't… please!"

But as the sensitive shaft of flesh throbbed into her with a greater hardness, Mario suddenly lowered his fingers and spread the opening of her cunt wider still, spearing his raping tongue deep into the moist virgin flesh of her cunt.

Jo jerked again, a low moan escaping from deep in her throat as her hands reached down involuntarily. Her fingers tangled in his dark hair, and she-pulled Mario's face hard and wantonly into her loins. His tongue circled around maddeningly inside her, the tip flickering against the sensitive wet walls of her pussy, sending spasms of insane desire coursing wildly through her half-naked body. Then suddenly, to her astonishment and disappointment, he was moving up over her, leaving her tongue-aroused cunt aflame with lustful desire. An instant later he was kissing her, thrusting his tongue deep into her throat as he took her hand and placed it demandingly on his blood-engorged penis, wrapping the fingers around the hotly pulsating shaft.

Jo tightly clenched them, hearing the groan of pleasure that forced itself between his lips, over her own gasping breath. Wow, it was enormous! She had never expected a penis would be so big! If he were to put it up inside of her, it would split her vagina wide open! It would kill her! Nevertheless the thought of such a lewd thing, the feel of the rod of lust-hardened male flesh throbbing in her hand, was obscurely delighting her. She'd like to feel its pulsing rigidity plunging deep into her seething cunt at this very minute! Instinctively, she began to massage the outer skin back and forth, up and down the iron-hard shaft. Nothing in the world had ever felt so good, or so right, or so complete.

Mario reached back and slipped his middle finger once more up between her legs, parting the flowered, open vaginal lips whose hair-fringed edges were now slippery wet with the secretions seeping excitedly from her pussy, and grinding it tantalizingly against her erectly throbbing clitoris.

Jo tensed on the seat as an electric shock of abandoned pleasure rippled up through her naked body. For a moment she could not move; she was frozen like a statue as the lustful sensations seared through her veins-and the boy took this to mean that she had given way. Carefully, he began levering himself up on his knees.

Jo felt a cold wetness on her exposed thigh as his massive cock swayed away from her flesh. For an instant she wondered if Mario had had an orgasm-but his throbbing member was still as hard as a plank of wood. Then she remembered that men, too, produced a seminal fluid before they reached orgasm, and this thought made her tingle with even wilder enthusiasm. Automatically, she increased the speed of her milking fingers, sliding the sleek hot skin more and more rapidly up and down the wetly gleaming cockshaft.

Mario was panting heavily now, his breath playing hot and moist over her naked breasts. "Jo!" he moaned frantically. "Honey baby… man, I want you… I've got to fuck you. Now!"

"No!" Jo gasped. "No, Mario. No! You'd… you'd hate me afterwards. I know you would! We mustn't!" She pulled her long slender leg down from the open car window and scissored her thighs shut, wanting to let him do it with every fiber of her physical being while her brain fought to maintain control of her lust-inflamed senses.

"Jo!" Mario groaned hoarsely. "Come on… I got to!"

Thrusting with his lean hips, he tried to squirm his penis between her now tightly closed thighs, forcing the blunt, bulbous cock-head down through the upper part of her wetly hair-lined slit, fighting madly to reach the mouth of the hot pink passage she was denying him. His every plunge sent wilder sensations of abandon surging through her as his hardness grated against the moistly throbbing bud of her clitoris.

"No, Mario. No! We mustn't! It would ruin everything." Jo breathed passionately. She hugged him tight and talked wetly into his mouth, murmuring incoherent and obscene endearments up into his slavering lips as she clamped her trembling thighs together.

Mario arched up his pumping hips and jammed his knees in between her thighs, forcing them slowly apart. She struggled against him with all her strength-and inadvertently her grip tightened around his straining cock just as the wetly seeping head was poised between the splayed-open lips of her cunt.

The boy threw back his head and uttered a gasping cry. His breath jetted out in a shuddering sigh as Jo felt the rigid shaft in her hand begin to jerk uncontrollably, and a hot thick stream of male semen spurted from it, pumping out in diminishing squirts until her golden pubic hair was drenched with the warm sticky sperm. It lay in moist pools on her quivering white belly, covered the insides of her thighs, and dripped wetly down between her legs to smear the car seat beneath her naked buttocks.

Mario emitted. a final groan and collapsed across her body as she lay staring up through the dusk at the misted windows while his come grew cold on her skin, and she half wished that he would try again or at least realize how frustrated she was feeling.

Suddenly the lights went on in the garage! Her father was coming up to the car and peering in at the scene.

"My God!" he cried in despair. "What have you done! You slut! You whore!"

"But, Daddy," Jo protested. "I didn't do anything. He never got it in…"

But her father would not listen. By this time Mario had scrambled into a sitting position, trying to pull his clothes together.

Jo's father reached into the car and pulled her out roughly, with force. While he was shaking her and slapping her, Jo cried out, "Run Mario!.Run! He'll kill you! Run!"

"No!" he protested.

"Please, Mario, run!"

And Jo didn't see him again for four years. Her father had placed her in a strict convent for girls with similar problems. Jo had insisted that she was innocent, that she had not let Mario fuck her, but her father wouldn't listen. For almost a year, she cried herself to sleep.

When she had gotten her master's degree she returned home. Mario was in uniform and home on leave. She sneaked out to see him and this time they spent five hours in a motel out of town. This time, too, he did everything he wanted to do and that she wanted him to do. It was great! He asked her if she would marry him when he returned from Viet Nam and she promised she would.

Five months later, when Jo had been accepted at the university to work for her doctorate, she got word that Mario had been killed! And her world almost ended.

But she survived, losing herself in her work.

Now ten years after being fucked by Mario she was standing in front of a mirror masturbating and wishing Mario or the young boy, either one, were here to help her.

The material of the nylon between her legs clung and slid alternatively, setting up a burning friction over the gates of her steaming cunt. She spread her thighs wide and bent her knees to dip down and open the silky petals to the nylon touch. It slid inside them and teased at the sensitive tissues rimming the mouth of her vagina. She moaned slightly, sawing back and forth with the crotch of the panties and felt the ball of sensitive nerve endings at the top of her cleft awaken and sprout like a small cock. The little bud surged forward into the cupping grooves of nylon.

A change overtook her doll-like features as her passion mounted. She watched the soft lips go slack and her eyes hood over. The halo of golden hair swam luxuriantly around her shoulders and face. Her breasts pumped up and down inside their confining garments, and she wished she'd taken them off.

As if by itself, her thumb began creeping down inside her panties. The material was tightly bunched, in her fists, one in front, the other in back, and her knuckles rubbed with light touches over her burning skin. She felt the thumb in front begin weaving back and forth across the tremulous mound of her abdomen, reaching further and farther downward with each swing as if seeking contact with her golden triangle and the pulsing delights under it. Then she allowed the hand behind her to nose its way between the cheeks of her saucy ass. A heightened throb rippled through her as she thought of its destination.

Her hips rolled back and around and pumped forward, and the material of the panties sang over her clit like a slippery bow over a violin string.

She sucked in her breath and felt sharp jolts shoot through her, and her resolve started crumbling to pieces. She wondered what difference one small bit of self-indulgence would matter now-what harm there would be in slipping her thumb inside her cunt and letting the release she'd been holding back so long flow through her.

Jo's face twisted in agony, and she damned herself for having started playing around. She cursed the inadvertent luck that had caused her to spot the young boy. A ragged moan escaped her lips as she shook with indecision and fiery need. But the guilt over the desire for the young boy and the shame for the fact that she was watching herself tease her genitals both crashed down furiously and won out, and Jo crumpled back onto the bed with a harsh cry of total frustration.

"No, no-I can't do it!" she sobbed, balling her fist against her trembling mouth.

Chapter 2

Jo spent the next day doing some research in the library at the university. She was working on a paper that she thought was quite important, but she couldn't keep her mind on what she was doing. Her mind kept going back to the boy she had seen. After she had followed him to a restaurant and had peered inside, she knew he worked there as a busboy.

When she finally got up and left the library she knew without thinking where she was headed. It was mid-afternoon when she walked into the restaurant. It wasn't crowded and the boy wasn't there either. But, of course, she realized, he wouldn't be until after school.

She ordered coffee and waited. At four o'clock he walked in. Jo's heart did a flip-flop and she almost gasped audibly. The likeness to Mario was so real.

When he had donned his apron and begun setting up tables in preparation for the dinner hour, Jo watched him. The two or three times he approached where she was sitting, Jo could feel the electricity that he seemed to radiate. It was as if she were drawn to him like a magnet. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

Jo stayed as long as she dared, then she went out and sat in her car until he came out the door, headed for home, she assumed.

She called out to him, "Could I give you a ride?" '

"No ma'am. I don't live too far. I can just walk."

"Nonsense. Get in and m give you a lift." The boy had to get in her car. She had to be near him.

He shrugged and crawled in beside her. The nearness of him almost caused her to gasp. As she started the car she asked his name.

"Tim."

"A nice name." She drove along toward the direction he had said he lived. There must be some way she could get him to come to her apartment. She had to touch him, to hold him.

"I wonder if you might be interested in doing some work for me?" she asked.