Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: Deep in the wild west Texas
|Introduction: Erm writes amazing incest stories, and with his permission I wanted to share them with you. Thumbs up if you want more!|
i]Disclamier: I did not write this and the other stories I upload, they belong to Ermberto at http://www.asstr.org/~ermberto/mainindex2.htm
Looking small and fragile, Damien lay on top of the bed in a side ward of the Accident & Emergency section of the large London hospital. He was in his school uniform and was feeling rather dizzy from his sore head and only vaguely paying attention to the conversation around him.
"Two nights, are you sure?" Damien's mother Clarissa - a tall, elegant woman in her mid-thirties - was asking of the two nurses, "He doesn't look that seriously hurt." Clarissa had piercing emerald-green eyes and long, strawberry-blonde hair.
"It's the doctor's suggestion," one of the two young nurses politely informed the concerned mother.
She and her colleague were both slim and attractive women in their twenties. Their nurses uniforms were as crisp and as sparkling white as the bedsheets. They stood on one side of the bed Damien lay on and Damien's mother, Clarissa, stood on the other side, all three ladies talking about the child as if he weren't there.
"The doctor said that it would be best to keep him here for two nights," confirmed the other nurse. She was called Lynda and was the younger of the two, very petite with short brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. She looked slightly nervous, unlike her companion, Anita, who was tall with jet black hair and seemingly the more dominant of the two.
"Hmmm, two nights," contemplated Clarissa, "He only hit his head. It's not much of a bump."
The three women looked at Damien, or more specifically at the small bruised lump on the left of his forehead.
"I'm sure it's okay," Anita said, looking back at the young patient's mother, who was dressed in a smart black suit and looked like a high-powered business woman, mainly because that's exactly what Clarissa was. "It's just a precaution," Anita continued to the anxious mother, "In case there is any concussion. He'll be okay."
"You'll be running around playing football again within a few days," the younger nurse, Lynda, said to Damien.
"Cool," said Damien. The twelve-year-old boy was just glad to have been acknowledged again. It was annoying been talked about as if he was non-existant.
Damien vaguely shared his mother's surprise that he had to spend two nights here. He didn't feel too bad. A couple of hours earlier Damien had been doing what most boys did at four o'clock on a Friday afternoon - hurrying home, eager for the weekend, especially excited because it was the start of the long summer holidays. During his usual short-cut through a park, Damien had slipped, twisting his ankle and, rather more worryingly, smacking his head on a rock. He had been knocked unconscious for a minute, during which time his friend had zoomed off to a nearby house, knocked frantically on the door and asked the bemused old woman who answered to "call an ambulance, my mate's busted open his head!"
The doctors who treated Damien in the Accident & Emergency unit of the hospital had been calm but anxious when they took the dazed boy to X-Ray, but had seemed a lot less worried afterwards.
"No, your head isn't broken," a kindly doctor had replied to Damien's worried question about the state of his health, "You've just had a bit of a bang and will have a bruise for a while."
"No, we won't have to amputate your foot," the kindly doctor had replied to Damien's follow up question, "Your ankle is just twisted, and not very severely at that. It won't hurt at all in a day or two."
Damien's mother had come in at that point, the elegant lady looking - very unusually for her - rather flustered and almost a little panicked. Clarissa soon calmed down when the doctor had told her how little there was for her to worry about, although, like a good mum, Clarissa did not see that as any reason to stop fussing over her little boy.
Now, with a few quick tests back, the two pretty young nurses, Lynda and Anita, had said the doctor's orders were for Damien to stay a couple of nights. Clarissa had not been in anyway suspicious, just a little puzzled. However, although she was a director of a large financial firm and used to bossing about the fifty men and women she employed, Clarissa wasn't totally arrogant and knew that she had little knowledge of medical care so didn't try to over-rule what she was being told.
Anita backed up the doctor's orders (actually they were her's and Lynda's; the doctor knew nothing about this) for Damien's extended stay with a few more justifications, hinting at 'possible concussion' amongst other things - not enough to worry Clarissa, just enough to accept that her 'brave little soldier' (as she'd referred to Damien earlier, making him squirm and blush in front of the giggling nurses) was not going to be home for the first weekend of the Summer Holidays. She had go soon, she had a lot of work to do this weekend from home, and soon she was saying farewell to her only child.
"I'll be in tomorrow morning sweetheart," Clarissa said to Damien, stroking his hair and leaning over him, "I'll bring in some comics. These two nurses will take care of you."
"I'll be okay mum," Damien insisted.
"Bye sweetie," Clarissa said, and she kissed the boy's forehead.
"Oww," complained Damien.
"Sorry," his mother said, realising she'd just planted her lips over the boy's bruise. She kissed him on the cheek and, finally, she had left.
Damien lay back on the bed and sighed. He had been looking forwards to the holidays for ages. Six whole weeks without school. And now he would be spending the first weekend in hospital with a sore head and a sore ankle. He turned to the two nurses who were standing alongside his bed. They almost looked like they were standing to attention. The boy smiled at them nervously.
"What's there to around here?" he asked them.
Anita spoke with an enigmatic grin: "Lots."
Damien was insistent that he didn't need a wheelchair when Anita retrieved one from nearby and wheeled it over to the boy.
"I can walk to the ward," the boy said, sitting up and hopping off the bed, instantly yelping and limping as he remembered his ankle was twisted. He almost fell but Anita caught him in her arms.
"You silly billy," she told him, and helped him into the wheelchair. Damien felt a bit dizzy too from his banged head. He settled into the wheelchair. Anita began pushing him out the Accident & Emergency area, telling him it was a long way to the ward. The boy was content to sit back and enjoy the ride.
As Anita pushed the boy, the other nurse, Lynda, followed.
"You'll have your own private room," she was telling Damien, "With it's own TV."
"Cool," Damien said, "It's like a hotel or somethin'. Is there a video too?"
"I'm afraid not," Anita said.
"I'm hungry," the boy insisted, "I've had no dinner. I'm starved. Is there a canteen here?"
"We'll get you fed soon enough," Lynda told the boy, a kindly look on her sweet young face, "You'll be able to have dinner in bed. Cool eh?"
"Lynda?" came a woman's stern voice.
Lynda stopped walking and Anita stopped pushing the wheelchair. They looked to see a large, plump, middle-aged nurse standing near the junction of the seemingly endless hospital coridoors.
"I need you back in casualty," the older nurse called.
"I'm helping Anita take this patient to the..." Lynda began.
"She can do it herself, it doesn't take two of you," the chubby nurse insisted, "Come on."
"Okay," Lynda agreed. She turned to her companions. "Catch you later Anita," she said, before looking at Damien, "See you kid. I'll probably catch you later, or if not tomorrow."
"'Kay," Damien replied, "Bye."
Lynda walked off and followed the middle-aged nurse. Anita resumed pushing the boy in the wheelchair towards the Children's Ward.
"That fat nurse looked like the matron out of the Carry On films," Damien observed, and Anita giggled for almost a minute at the child's casual observation.
"She's our boss," she explained.
"Is that why she had a blue uniform?"
"Yeah. It's also why she bosses everyone about."
"My mum's bossy. Not to me though, not really, but she is to other people. She's a boss y'see. Works for a big Insurance company or something or other."
"She looked pretty important, in that flashy suit and all. What does your dad do?"
"Dunno. Never met him. It's just me and my mum. It's cool that way though. My dad cleared off before I was born so I don't see why I should miss him. How far is it to the ward?"
"Not too far."
Eventually, Anita and her young charge approached their destination, a private room at the end of the Children's Ward. It was not too busy in here, with a third of the beds empty. Damien noticed this and Anita explained that it was usually the case that it was quiet during schooltime.
"Come the weekends," she told the boy, "it often fills up, and when it's a week or two into the summer holidays it get's really busy! By then, of course, after a week out of school, kids get bored and find new and exciting things to do, like climbing up trees, playing football on busy roads, lighting their farts...anything and everything that will probably get them hurt and, more often that not, does so."
Anita wheeled the boy into the private room and shut the door. The room was small but neat, with a bed and a cabinet next to it with a vase of flowers on it. A TV - the first thing Damien checked was there - was a portable one held on a bracket in the top corner of the room. A thin white wardrobe stood in the other corner and next to it was a door that lead into an small bathroom. Framed pictures of cartoon characters were hung on the walls, whilst the wall opposite the door held a large window. It was an impressive view. The room was on the fourth floor and the Children's Ward was at the edge of the hospital, so the window overlooked a busy main road, beyond which was a large, tree-filled park almost dazzling in it's greenery, and beyond that stood the familiar skyline of London, the towering concrete and steel buildings of the financial district standing in contrast to the park in the foreground.
"Nice view," Damien said.
"All the best for our little guest," Anita smiled, and she pushed the wheelchair to the bed and turned it round, so that the boy faced her. Damien was glancing around the room and Anita took the opportunity to look at the child, her red tongue flicking out and wetting her lips as she did so, her breasts - large, shapely and firm - rising and falling in her tight white top as she breathed deeply.
Twelve-year-old Damien had a delicate face, boyish but in a sweet manner that seemed more 'pretty' that 'handsome'. He had short, wave black hair, large brown eyes and a delicate little nose. His cheeks were lightly freckled and his smile incredibly warm and contagious. He was four-foot-ten, slender and currently still in his school uniform - white shirt, black trousers and white socks. Damien's shoes had been taken off by the ambulance crew and were still down in the Accident & Emergency Unit. Anita made a mental note to fetch them sometime.
Damien looked up at Anita.
"Shall I get into bed then?" he asked, brightly, looking a lot less bothered about being here. It was a bit like an adventure. So long as he had a TV of course.
"Okay," Anita smiled, "Take my hands. Don't put any weight on your sore ankle."
Damien took the nurse's hands and pulled himself out of the wheelchair, standing on his right foot, his sore left on hovering an inch above the ground. "I feel like a stalk standing on one leg," he commented. Still holding Anita's hands, he hopped to the bed and sat on it sideways, edging back a little. Like all hospital beds it was quite high, and Damien's feet - clad in white cotton socks - dangled a good six-inches above the ground.
"Let's get you undressed," Anita said, standing before the boy. She was average in height, slim, and her long black hair was tied back in a tight bun. She had a very attractive face, sensous lips and a delicate nose. Anita's eyes, like Damien's, were big and dark. Unlike Damien's, Anita's eyes carried a very forceful - although not aggressive - gaze, as if she perceived more than she saw and didn't let anything escape her observation. She reached out and undid the top button f Damien's school-shirt.
"I can do it myself," the boy said, politely.
"I'll do it," Anita told him, "I'm a nurse, trust me."
Being bought up by a single-mother, Damien was used to taking orders from a woman, and he was not quite at the age of rebeliousness. He sat there obediently whilst Anita undid the buttons on his shirt, humming a pleasant tune as she did so. Soon she was able to take the shirt off the boy and she placed it on the bedside cabinet. Damien now sat there topless, his torso slender and pale, obviously devoid of any body hair. There were hints, howerever, of definition to his chest and stomach muscles, indicating he would have firm pecs and a six-pack stomach when he was older. For now, though, he was just a slender twelve-year-old boy.
"Socks," Anita said brightly, indicating the next item of clothes to be removed from her little patient. She knelt and took the white sock from Damien's left foot, the sprained one. She was delicate and asked Damien if it hurt.
"No, it's okay," he replied.
Antia stroked the child's foot gently, rubbing around his ankle and then tracing her nails gently down to his toes, which wiggled. Damien sniggered.
"Ticklish are we?" Anita asked, looking up.
"Yeah," Damien replied.
Anita took the sock from the boy's other foot and teased him a moment, tickling his toes. She sighed with secret pleasure at the beautiful sound of the child's giggling. Then she rolled the white socks into a neat ball in that mysterious manner that only women can do, and tossed them aside.
"Trousers next," she declared, and she reached to Damien's crotch and undid the button and zip on his trousers. "Lift your bum up sweetie."
Damien leaned back on his hands and raised his rear for a moment, allowing Anita to pull his trousers off, which she dumped aside. The boy now sat in his underpants. He blushed.
"Oooh, Superman!" Anita giggled, observing the caped superhero's image on Damien's underpants."
"My mum got them for me at Christmas," Damien said, blushing further. "They're a bit childish."
"Aw, their sweet. Superman is great. I always liked Supergirl though."
"Of course you did, you're a girl!"
"Did you have Supergirl knickers when you were younger?" Damien asked, suddenly regretting the question as he though that asking an adult woman about her underwear was a little rude. Fortunately Anita just grinned, rather charmed at the question.
"I'm wearing them right now!" she replied.
"No! I'm joking," giggled Anita, "I did wear them as a kid though, but I preferred Barbie knickers. Anyway, let's get these off."
"No, I can do them," Damien suddenly said.
"Don't get all shy on me," Anita told him, her hands poised over the boy's crotch, "I'm a nurse, I've seen a million willies."
"Can't I keep them on?"
"No. You haven't got a clean pair here have you? You can't sleep in them. There's some pyjamas in the wardrobe, we'll get you into those. Come on, lift your bum up again."
Damien - slightly reluctant but resigned - put his hands on the bed behind him and lifted his bottom from the bed. In a swift motion, Anita hooked her fingers in the elasticated band of the boy's Superman underpants and slid them down his legs and away, putting them with the rest of the clothes. She gazed - briefly but intently - at the boy's little penis. It was, naturally - and to Anita's secret delight - hairless, a cute little appendage, sticking up slightly in a semi-erect state. His ball-sac was small, smooth and also hairless.
"I'll put these away," Anita said, casually, gathering up all the boy's clothes and taking them to the wardrobe. She put then on the shelf. The light yellow pyjamas were at the bottom of the wardrobe and Anita bent down to pick them up, taking an extra few seconds to do so. Her delicious firm bum was thrust right towards the bed, and as he sat there, nude, Damien couldn't help but look at it. It looked great! Two firm globes hugged tautly by her white skirt, like a couple of big boiled eggs in a handkerchief. He averted his eyes when Anita stood up and turned, holding the nightwear in her arms. "These are hospital pyjamas, you can wear them tonight until your mum brings in yours tomorrow."
"Okay," Damien said, no longer blushing and finding himself rather relaxed despite sitting here, on the edge of a bed, totally naked in front of a woman. He suddenly panicked though when he noted that his penis had gone from vaguely erect to half-erect. It stuck upwards, the foreskin having drawn back a little of it's own accord, the purple head glowing slightly. Damien looked at it and instinctively put one hand over it, looking up at Anita and seeing that she had already seen it. She smiled.
"You okay sweetie?" she asked, putting the pyjamas on the bed and standing in front of the naked blushing twelve-year-old boy. Her large breasts, which were threatening to burst out and pop the buttons of her blouse, were eye-level with Damien.
"Fine," Damien shrugged, looking flustered. His hand still covered his cock, which was a mistake, because in touching his cock he only made it harder. It felt like a small iron bar pressed to his palm.
"Feeling dizzy or anything?" Anita asked.
"No," Damien said, before adding "I mean...yes." It was a convenient excuse as to why he was acting a little odd.
"Lie down honey," Anita told him, moving the pyjamas and putting them on the floor. This was going faster than she thought. She didn't expect to have reached this opportune moment so soon. "Come on, lie down on the bed."
Damien did so, stretching out on top of the crips white sheets, his body pale in the sunlight that poured through the window from the July sun that still hung quite high above the towering office blocks in the distance.
"Arms by your side," ordered Anita, and Damien obeyed, even though it now meant his cock - now fully erect and laying, pulsing and achingly stiff, across his flat lower belly - was now uncovered. Anita fought the urge to look at it. She didn't want to scare the bashful child. Instead she smiled warmly at him and placed her warm elegant hands on his chest and began rubbing, just in gentle circles.
"Is that nice?" she asked.
Damien nodded. It didn't occur to him that this obviously wasn't a medical procedure, he was just glad that Anita was not looking at his embarrassingly hard dick. Plus, it really did feel nice the way the nurse was gently stroking his chest. Anita began humming, just a soft tune, her eyes half shut, almost lost in her own clandestine pleasure. Damien breathing slowed down as he felt himself grow more relaxed. He did actually feel a little dizzy, but almost pleasantly so. That was, in fact, a result of the mild painkillers he had been given down in the casualty unit. He could feel his prick pulsing, fully erect, but he didn't feel that embarrassed. Anita had surely noticed it, and if she hadn't told him off for having a stiffie by now, she never would. It felt quite cool, he thought, having a boner on display in front of a woman, even though the woman in question was probably trying to ignore it (Damien was more incorrect than he could ever imagine in this assumption.)
"A little light massage makes you feel better doesn't it?" Anita asked, softly, reaching up to stroke the boy's shoulders, and to run her hands down his skinny arms a couple of times.
"Mmmmm," Damien replied, eyes barely open. He felt very tired, and very relaxed. Anita's hands were warm. The nurse resumed her gentle humming. It was almost like a lullaby, and the combination of this, the pain-killers, the nurse's hands which were now straying softly over his stomach, together with the simple thrill of have an erection out in the open, made him feel as if he were drifting away in a see of enjoyable pleasure. He forgot all about his sore head, his sprained ankle and the boredom of being cooped up in hospital for the first weekend of the summer holidays.
Anita moved her slender fingers over Damien's flat belly for a while, then she moved to his thighs. Damien had his eyes shut so Anita was able to gaze intently, whilst licking her lips, at the boy's penis, which was unashamedly erect and even visibly pulsing. The young woman placed a hand on each of the boy's thighs, just above his knees, and she ran them up, up to the top of his thighs, thumbs just an inch away from Damien's erection, then she moved her hands back down. Then up and down. Slowly. Gripping ever so slightly. The boy was almost whimpering with delight.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" Anita asked, casually, still massaging the boy's thighs.
"No," replied Damien, softly, half opening his eyes. "Why?"
"I have a girlfriend, yes," Anita replied.
"Yeah? Not a boyfriend?"
"No, a girlfriend."
Anita expected Damien to be curious - even a little thrilled - at this fact, but he took it in his stride. In fact he said something that made Anita rather curious.
"Like my mum," the boy said.
"Yeah?" asked Anita.
"Well...she hasn't got a girlfriend at the moment. She hasn't had one for a while. But she's had a few. Obviously she's had a few boyfriends, that's why I'm here, but mostly she goes out with girls. She's been single for a few years though. Probably too busy working and stuff."
"Hmmmm," uttered Anita. She had found Clarissa - Damien's mother - to be a very attractive woman. She also wondered what Damien's attitude to sex would be, given that he had an openly lesbian mother. She wondered if he even had an attitude to sex.
"So you've got a girlfriend then?" the boy asked.
"That's right," Anita replied, stroking the boy's bare thighs throughout this conversation, "Do you want to know who she is?"
"Yeah. Even though I won't know her."
"You do. Sort of. It's Lynda. The other nurse down in casualty."
"Oh. She's pretty."
"She is, yes. What about me, am I pretty?"
Damien opened his eyes and gazed at the dark-haired beauty stroking his young body. "Yes," he said, "Very pretty."
"Thank you," Anita smiled, sweetly, "And you're a good lookin' guy yourself."
"Don't be silly, I'm a kid."
"So? Kids can be good looking. Not all of them. Some are rather shocking. I know I shouldn't say this, but I've seen some very ugly children at this hospital."
"Not you though," Anita said, softly, "Would you like a girlfriend? I mean...are there any at school you like?"
"Some. But I don't want a girlfriend yet. Girls are silly."
"Does that include me?"
"No," Damien replied, "You're not silly. The ones at school are, but not you, you're sensible and cool. That's 'cos you're old I suppose."
"I'm not old," Anita insisted with a grin, "I'm only twenty-seven."
"Well," shrugged Damien, "that's old to me, I'm only twelve." He said this with the refreshing, childish honesty that reminded Anita why she liked boys far more than men. And women.
The dark-haired nurse smiled and resumed her soft humming, still stroking Damien's legs. The boy shut his eyes, breathing softly and deeply. His penis was still erect but that didn't bother him. He knew that Anita would be looking at it but he quite liked that feeling. In fact, Damien could almost feel Anita's gaze on his hard penis. A light sensation tracing from the little head, down the shaft...in fact he could feel it. Physically. That was odd, he thought.
Damien opened his eyes and looked down his slender body, and saw that Anita was rubbing his left thigh with one of her hands but with her other hand she was lightly running the tip of her forefinger up and down his penis shaft. She made eye-contact with Damien and gave him a warm smile that conveyed to him that, if he wanted her to stop, he only had to ask...but she'd rather he didn't.
Damien just gulped and closed his eyes again, feeling Anita's finger running up and down his cock, very gently, making sensations of tingling pleasure run up his spine. He murmered a little.
After a moment, Anita began gently tickling Damien's hairless little nut-sac, smiling as she saw the boy's toes curl at this sensation. She took things further by encircling her right forefinger and thumb round Damien's cock-shaft, easily gripping the slender rod of pulsing stiffness, and she began to stroke, rolling the foreskin up, then down...up...then down...
"Mmmmm," Damien whimpered, involuntarily, his toes wiggling, his hands gently gripping a fistful of the bedsheets. His body was tense, shivering with pleasure.
"Is that nice?" Anita asked in barely a whisper.
Damien nodded, opening his eyes, eager to watch this to ensure it was really happening.
"Do you do this to yourself sometimes?" Anita enquired.
"Mmmm," Damien nodded. He didn't feel embarrassed about admitting this. "A few times...I've done it...in the last couple of months. Stuff comes out...it squirts out everywhere."
"Yeah...I think. White stuff. It's sticky."
"It feels nice doesn't it? When cum squirts out."
"Yeah...it's nice...ooooohh..." His eyelids fluttered as he felt more ripples of pleasure run through his young naked body. Anita was masturbating him a bit faster now, holding his cock firm in her forefinger and thumb, her arm pumping, her other hand still gripping the child's firm thigh. She would have preferred to use her spare hand to tug down her skirt and knickers and finger her cunt, which was sopping wet, but she knew that would be going too far...for now. In fact, just by rubbing her firm thighs together, Anita could feel a delicious sensation from her vagina, a warm, quasi-orgasmic feeling bought about purely by the beautiful act of masturbating a twelve-year-old boy, just as she had done so years ago with her little brother.
"That's nice...that's nice..." Damien was panting, softly, his body alternately tensing and relaxing, his cock achingly hard in the rapidly pumping fist of Anita. The lustful woman licked her red lips frequently, almost moaning in pleasure herself, watching the boy writhe in ecstasy at the simple but delicious activity she was subjecting him too.
"Not long now," she whispered, more to herself than to Damien as she sensed the boy's climax approach.
"Not long now," repeated Damien, eyes open, looking up at Anita with eyes filled with love, trust and utter pleasure. His prick was throbbing, pulsing, buzzing...the contents of his young balls soon summoned up thanks to the masturbatory actions of Anita. "Uuuh...I'm gonna...squirt...stuff...mmmmmm. Uuuuh."
He did indded squirt 'stuff'. In the ever-pumping fist of Anita, Damien's cock squirted a gooey stream of sperm which flew quite amazingly high into the air, almost a foot, and travelled just as far, splashing down onto his chest which was rising and falling rapidly with his breathing.
"Oh yeah, here it is," Anita was purring, triumphantly, "Pump it all out!" She continued masturbating Damien, the boy emitting a strangled moan as his erection shot another stream of sperm up into the air, this load splattering down to his belly.
"Uh, uh, uh," gasped Damien, eyes rolling upwards, legs stiff, toes curling, his cock spraying some more white goo over his belly. Anita slowed her action as the child's climax ebbed away, still pumping his cock in her fist but with slow firm strokes. Some more sperm oozed out of the end, welled up and ran messily down Anita's fingers.
"What a mess," Anita said, cheerfully.
"Sorry," Damien said, then he giggled.
"That was nice," Anita concluded, taking her hand away from Damien's cock, which was now softening.
"It was," the boy agreed.
Anita took some tissues from the bedside cabinet and hummed happily as she wiped the boy's cum splattered torso clean, along with her fingers. She turned and tossed the tissue into a small bin in the corner of the room.
"Don't tell anyone about this," she said, sternly, as she turned back to the boy, "I could get in trouble. So could you."
"I won't," promised Damien. Anita could tell the boy wouldn't, and her face softened once more.
"Into your PJs sweetie," Anita told the boy. Damien sat up quickly, then slumped back, moaning at the feeling of dizziness and fatigue. "I'll help you," Anita said.
"Thanks," Damien said. Anita helped the boy into the pyjamas, and though sheer moistness of her cunt indicated just how erotic she had found this episode, there was also a non-sexual joy at what had happened, the way Damien had gone from being all bashful to completly trusting in Anita, not at all embarrassed about being naked in front of her as she helped him into the pyjamas. It occured to the very perceptive Anita that the boy had suddenly adopted her as a maternal figure in the light of his mother's absence. Anita thought of the boy's mum, that beautiful, firm-handed business-woman/single mother/bisexual blonde. She had definately been hot! Not as arousing as her son, but still...
Dressed in his PJs, Damien got under the sheets of the bed. He yawned, then suddenly remembered his stomach had a greater urgency than his desire for sleep.
"I'm hungry," he said, "Can I have something to eat?"
"There'll be someone round with some food soon," Anita told him, "Hospital food isn't too bad you know. It's cool. Then you can get some sleep. It's been an eventful day."
It took Damien a second or two to remember why the day had been eventful - tripping and banging his head! He had almost forgotten about that incident. There had been a rather more memorable one since then.
"What's your name?" he asked, suddenly, "You haven't told me it."
"That's a nice name. Better than mine. Some kids take the mickey out of me because it's the name of the Antichrist in some film. The Omen or something."
"It's a nice name," Anita said, reaching out and stroking the child's hair, "and you're no Antichrist. You're a little angel. Anyway, I'll maybe see you later. If not, I'll catch you tomorrow on my next shift."
Damien wondered if Anita would kiss him, but despite the desire to do so, Anita didn't. She left the room, waving briefly from the door before she left, flashing the grin of a new-found friend.
Damien sighed and reached down, his hand naturally sliding into his pyjama bottoms and fondling his cock, which was growing stiff again already. His onanistic ambitions had to be put on hold, though, when a porter came round with supper.
After dinner, Damien felt sleepy. He was lying there in the room wondering if he could be bothered to get up and turn on the TV. Then there was a knock at the door and a nurse came in. Damien looked up, hoping it was Anita, but instead it was Lynda, the other nurse who he had been with in casualty. Damien remembered that this was Anita's girlfriend, which gave him a mild thrill.
Because his mum was a lesbian and had had girlfriends before, Damien did not find it a big novelty to think of women fancying each other and having relationships, but of course, Lynda and Anita were not related to him so he found it more comfortable to fantasize about the pair of them being naked and 'doing things' to each other. During the times recently when he'd jacked off in bed on his own, Damien had found himself occasionally imagining his mum being naked in bed with another woman - one of the girlfriends she'd had a while ago - and it turned him on, although he felt a bit guilty at such thoughts.
The boy say up slightly in bed as Lynda came in with a cheery "Hiya Damien."
"Hi," Damien smiled, sweetly.
Lynda closed the door and strolled towards the bed, grinning as if she were up to something. Something she shouldn't be up to. She had short wavy brown hair and a delicate face. She was very petite, five-foot-one and slender, and this, combined with her cute nose, chirpy voice and her big doe eyes, made Lynda appear younger than her years. She was actually twenty-two but could easily pass for her late teens, and rather embarrassingly she was sometimes asked for ID when trying to get into a club or a movie that was for over-eighteens only.
"Time for a shower," she told him.
"Aw, not a shower," Damien moaned, "I don't feel like walking off down the ward to the bathroom."
"There's one in here silly," Lynda pointed out. She opened the door that was in the far-wall, near the wardrobe. Damien peered in and saw a small bathroom. He had barely noticed the door before, having just assumed it was a cupboard.
"Cool, an en-suite bathroom," he giggled. He sat up.
"Come on, outta bed kiddo," Lynda said. She took Damien's arm and helped the boy out. He limped a little and held on to the kind young nurse as she lead him into the bathroom. At just four-foot-ten in height, Damien was still a whole three-inches shorter than Lynda. There was a large shower that took up most of the small room, one which did not have a shower curtain or a screen, totally open to the rest of the bathroom.
"Let's get you out of those pyjamas," Lynda said, "Arms up."
Damien hesitated a moment out of embarrassement, then remembered that this was a nurse who - according to Anita - had "seen a million willies." Besides, he recalled what had happened the last time a nurse had got him naked!
Damien held up his arms and Lynda helped him out of his pyjama top. Then she knelt and encountered no resistence when she pulled down the boy's pyjama bottoms, he eyes drinking in the sight of the cute little young boy-cock that was revealed. She tore her gaze from the boy's privates and put the pyjamas in the corner of the room, bending over as she did so, deliberately wiggling her arse - clad tightly in the white skirt of her nurse's uniform - towards Damien, correctly guessing that the boy would be staring at it. Then she turned and began undoing the buttons of her top, trying to hide a sly grin as she did so, waiting for Damien to ask what she was doing.
"What are you doing?" Damien asked, standing there nude, his little willy on display.
"Well, I've got to help you shower," Lynda replied, "I can't get my uniform all wet can I? I'm not really allowed to do this," she continued in a conspirital whisper, "so don't tell anyone. I just don't like getting my uniform wet." Of course, she didn't have to even help shower the boy, but she wanted to - she needed to, especially after Anita had bragged of what she'd done with Damien earlier. Damien did not bother to consider whether this behaviour was odd, or against hospital rules, he just couldn't believe that this pretty nurse was undressing in front of him. It still had not occurred to him, though, that there was any connection between Lynda's actions and those of Anita's earlier.
He wondered how far Lynda would undress. The nurse took off her top first. She was wearing a lacy black bra. Her breasts were fairly small - certainly much smaller than the large globes Anita had packed under her blouse - but they were firm and shapely, petite little globes of flesh who's nipples could just about be made out through the thin lacy material of the bra. Damien swallowed nervously and tried not to stare at Lynda, but he was unable to take his eyes from her. Lynda just pretended not to notice as she unzipped her skirt and removed that too, followed by her shoes. She was now wearing her bra and knickers, together with a pair of rather sexy black stockings held up by a lacy garter belt. The entire underwear set was the black, in contrast to the whiteness of her uniform that lay neatly folded on the tiled floor, next to Damien's yellow pyjamas.
"Right, let's get this shower going," Lynda chirped, casually, and she stepped past Damien (who's hands were over his crotch, trying to cover his erection) and leaned into the shower and flicked it on. Water began spraying from the nozzle and Lynda held her hand under it, using her other hand to adjust the temperature switch. Damien was standing behind Lynda, and he glanced down to her arse and his eyes grew wide with excitement. Lynda was wearing a thong! The material of the underwear that ran down her arse-crack must have been not much thicker than dental floss, for it was not in anyway visible, totally buried in the perfect cleft of her arse, meaning her cheeks were effectively bare and exposed. They looked very pert and firm to Damien. His cock grew stiffer. His eyes flicked back up, guiltily, when Lynda spun round.
"In you get," she told him.
Damien got into the shower, standing under the jet of warm water, facing the tiled wall, back to Lynda who stood outside the shower. "Turn around," she told him as she took a spongue from a cupboard along with a bar of soap. She rubbed them together, quickly getting the sponge frothy.
Damien turned round, a little nervous, hands still trying to shield his erection from the nurse. Lynda didn't comment on it. As she stood there, just outside the shower, just a foot away from where Damien was standing, she just reached out with the spongue and began soaping down the boy's chest. She hummed merrily, just as Anita had done earlier, wiping the sponge over Damien's slender chest and shoulders, his tender flesh soon soapy and glistening. "Move your arms sweety," Lynda said. Damien did so, his arms just hanging by his side, deciding that there was no point in trying to hide his erection. Lynda soaped down the boy's flat stomach, going down to his lower belly, but not going down further. Not yet. "Turn around." Damien obeyed, as always, and felt a little relief that his prick was not thrusting right at Lynda. He did not feel too uncomfortable though, in fact it felt nice to be standing here naked whilst Lynda spongued down his back. She worked over his cute lily-white bum then the back of his legs before ordering him to turn round. He did so, no longer feeling ashamed. Surely Lynda knew he had a hard-on, and she couldn't not have expected him not to get one.
"Oooh, it's rude to point," Lynda giggled, kneeling down, her face level with Damien's penis which was, indeed, thrust out at a ninety-degree angle, the glowing purple head of that stiff pecker pointing at her face.
"Sorry," Damien said, instinctively.
"Don't be," Lynda said, "It's natural." She began soaping down Damien's legs, eyes fixed to the boy's erection, Damien in turn glancing down at the nurse as she squatted in her underwear before him. Soon enough Lynda got to his cock. She had saved the best until last. She ran the sponge up and down it, then casually reached out and held it lightly so that she could hold it up to wash the underside of his little shaft and his hairless nut-sac. She heard the boy groan slightly with pleasure, the sound echoeing off the tiled walls of the bathroom.
Lynda took more time necessary cleaning the boy's cock. She soaped it up and rinsed it down, then did so again.
"That's one clean willy," she observed, finally standing up and putting the spongue down. Damien just grinned, standing there under the jet of water which was rapidly washing away the soapy lather from his slender body. His skin sparkled, wetly. "Turn the shower off," Lynda ordered him, and Damien did so, but as he had not yet been told to get out the shower, he remained standing there, instinctively getting the impression that something else was going to happen.
For a moment, Lynda just stood there, dressed in just her underwear with a twelve-year-old boy in the shower in front of her with a hard-on, wondering what to do next. She had planned this out in her head, with some suggestions from Anita, but it was still a big step. Unlike Anita, Lynda had not frolicked with a young boy before, hospital patient or otherwise. Then she remembered Anita's sage advice:
Remember, a boy of that age isn't going to ask you to do anything to him, which is the best thing about them! You're in control. Just don't except him to make the first move. That's your job. Ask...and you shall get.
Recalling these words of wisdom, Lynda cleared her throat.
"Do you think I look pretty?" she asked.
Damien nodded; "Yeah."
"Have you seen a naked woman before?"
"Only in a magazine."
"Do you want to see me naked?"
Damien nodded, unable to say anything as his vocal cords appear to have frozen. His penis was certainly not frozen though. It pulsed, hot and hard. It was four-inches long but felt like it was a foot long to Damien, as if it was the only part of his body.
Lynda reached round and unhooked her bra, slipping it off and dropping it to the floor.
"Step out the shower sweetie," she said.
Damien did so. He stood about two-feet away from Lynda, who was facing him, a wicked grin on her face. Damien's eyes were fixed on the young woman's lovely pert breats. Real breasts! Not ones in a magazine, but real lady-boobs, small but shapely and mouthwatering, the nipples so dazzlingly pink.
There was more to come. Lynda unhooked the garter belt straps and peeled off her stockings. The she took her garter belt off, and finally her thong. She stood back a step, totally nude like the boy in front of her. Hands on her hips she flashed a grin.
"Do I look pretty?" she asked, just as Anita had asked Damien earlier.
His brain having still not recalled how to talk, Damien just nodded. His eyes roved across Lynda's body, taking in the wonderful sights of the petite brunette; her lovely tits, her flat belly, her slender legs, and most fantastically of all, the neat triangle of chestnut-brown pubic hair at her crotch. Lynda turned round and glanced over her shoulder, seeing that Damien's eyes were wide with awe as he admired her delicious arse.
"Like my bum?" she asked him.
"Mmmmm," confirmed Damien, who cleared his throat nervously, "It's nice. It's a really nice bum."
Lynda turned back round again to face the boy. She stood with her legs slightly spread, her bare feet about twelve-inches apart on the tiled floor. "Want a closer look at my privates?" she asked, "It's only fair I think, I've seen yours close up."
Damien nodded and eagerly squatted down, gazing at the juicy vagina. Before he'd just seen Lynda's pubic bush, but now, staring up between the woman's legs, he could see the fleshy pinkness of her slit, the bud of her clitoris. He stared and stared and stared.
"Up honey, c'mon," Lynda then told him, her voice quiet and heavy with desire. Damien stood up, wondering if this was the ilttle fun over with. However, Lynda then knelt on the floor before him, head level with his cock, and she reached out with her right hand and began stroking it. "Such a lovely little penis," she sighed, happily, "Oh my. It's wonderful." Damien could hardly believe it. Even though Anita had done this to him earlier (albeit she had not undressed like this) it was still amazing to feel a woman - the second one that day! - playing with his willie. Furthermore, he realized Lynda really did like his cock. She wasn't just humouring him. She was evidently as fascinated with his privates as he had been with hers. Damien thought this was a bit odd. Wasn't Lynda a lesbian? Why would she like cocks? Maybe she was like his mum and sometimes liked the opposite gender. Then it occured to him that Anita seemed to have clearly enjoyed jerking him off earlier! He had assumed she was doing him a favour, a bit of bedside-care that was beyond the call of duty of a nurse...but now it occured to him that she had bee enjoying it as much as he had.
Another shock was in store for Damien. Lynda took stopped masturbating Damien and placed her hands on each side of his slender pelvis, then she leaned forwards and took his cock in her mouth! All of it! His entire four-inch shaft was right in the hot wet mouth of this woman kneeling before him.
"Oh God," Damien gasped, quietly, shivering with excitement.
"Mmmmmmm," Lynda sighed, contentedly, slurping her tongue round the beautiful pre-teen cock she was deep-throating. She began bobbing her head, her wet lips sliding up and down Damien's prick-shaft. The boy felt his legs tremble and the pulse in his cock rise and rise.
"Uuuuh," he softly panted, looking down and watching Lynda suck his cock. She was sucking his cock! He couldn't believe it. Just like when Anita had been masturbating him earlier, Damien wondered if he would wake up in his bed at home to find it had been a wet-dream.
But it wasn't a dream. This delicious, naked woman really was sucking his little pecker, and obviously enjoying it as much as he was!
"Oh God...Lynda...I'm..." stammered Damien, knees trembling, "I'm....uuuuuuh."
"MMMMMMMMM!" Lynda moaned as she felt a surprisingly prodigious load of sperm blast from the cock she had in her mouth. She gulped it down and savoured the salty taste, then continued sucking. Damien groaned ecstastically, his cock pulsing as it ejaculated another squirt of sperm, then a third, then a fourth. Lynda swallowed the lot and continued sucking. Sucking and slurping. Damien sighed happily, feeling suddenly weak at the knees as his orgasm died away, Lynda gulping down the last ooze of fuck-sauce that her sweet little patient presented to her tonsils.
She took her mouth from Damien's cock and stood up, licking her lips.
"You won't tell anyone," she said to him, knowing already it was not necessary. This was a bright little lad who could obviously keep a secret.
"I won't if you won't," he grinned.
"Let's get you dry," Lynda said, grabbing a towel and drying the boy, still admiring his naked body. Then she got dressed while Damien got into his pyjama's, going slowly as he could put much weight on his ankle although it did not hurt too much anymore. Then they left the bathroom and Lynda helped Damien into bed. He yawned as he settled down, the nurse pulling the sheets up to the boy's chest in a maternal manner.
"I'm tired," Damien said.
"You look it," Lynda smiled, standing over him, "It's been a busy day." You've shot your load twice you horny little darling, she felt like adding, but didn't. "It's almost nine o'clock. Bedtime."
"Will you shower me in the morning?"
"I might do," Lynda shrugged with a teasing grin, "If not, I'm sure Anita will. We're both knocking off for the day now, but we're back in tomorrow morning. See you then."
Lynda left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Damien was asleep within minutes. He had very nice dreams that night.
Anita was smoking a cigarette as she waited outside the hospital. She had finished a few minutes early and was waiting for Lynda, standing near the entrance with a black coat on over her nurse's uniform. She and Lynda lived in a flat just down the road, only a few minutes walk away.
Twenty-seven-year-old Anita was one of those rare and delicious creatures, a female peadophile. It stemmed from when she was fifteen and her twelve-year-old brother, Billy, had asked to see her naked. Anita had obliged, and in turn got Billy to show her his bits. She'd never seen a cock in real life before. Before long - their parents being out that afternoon along with their baby brother - Anita and Billy were engaging in a spot of mutual masturbation. They did so regularly for a few months before it graduated to oral sex. Within a year they were fucking. They did not get too many chances, but whenever they did have the house to themselves for a while, which was about two or three times a month, Anita and her kid brother would fuck themselves silly, learning different things with each other. To avoid pregnancy, Anita made Billy wear a condom, but sometimes it was hard to get rubbers at short notice, so Anita would let her horny kid brother fuck her up the arse. Anal became a favourite for the pair of them and they indulged in it heavily, out of desire rather than necessity.
The incestuous frolicks came to an end after three years when Anita went to Nursing College. She fucked her brother once more, when she came home on vacation, but by then her brother was almost sixteen and had a girlfriend of his own. Besides, Anita found that she had preferred her brother when he was younger, just in the early stages of puberty. She slept with some men at Nursing College, but found they didn't please her. They were either too domineering or too weak and boring. Finding herself attracted towards women, Anita then flung herself into a series of lesbian relationships. She enjoyed screwing women as much as men, and preferred their company, but nonetheless she soon found her sexual fantasies becoming dominated by thoughts of young boys. On a couple of occasions she picked up young lads in night-clubs - eighteen and nineteen-year-olds - but they were still too old. She preferred small, slender little boys.
Two-years ago Anita was transferred to the Children's Ward at the hospital. She was giving a thirteen-year-old boy - a beautiful blonde haired lad with an angelic face and a sweet nature - a bed-bath in a private room on the ward - the one Damien was in now, coincidentally. The boy, who was recovering from a broken arm, got a hard-on, and Anita was so transfixed by the delightful erection jutting from the boy's hairless groin that, without a work, she bent over and sucked it. The boy came in her mouth within minutes, and agreed to Anita's promise that he did not tell anyone. Anita gave the boy two more bedbaths before he was discharged, and each time she gave him a nice blow-job.
Since then, Anita had frolicked with a dozen boys, aged between thirteen and fifteen. She obviously could not pick on boys who might blab to their parents, nor would she do anything to boys who were obviously really sick. But the cute ones who could keep their traps shut and were in pretty good shape and within a day or two of being discharged, Anita would get round to seducing them. Most she would masturbate or suck off, usually when either giving them bed-baths or helping them in the shower. She enjoyed showing them her body as well, as it was a figure she was rightly proud of. Three of the boys had fucked her. Two had fucked her just once, laying back on the bed in the private rooms, gasping with adolescent joy as Anita rode their pricks, clasping their young members in her tight cunt. The best time had been with a lovely dark-haired fourteen-year-old who was recovering from a minor operation - enough to keep him in hospital for a while, but otherwise left him in reasonable shape and fairly mobile. Anita would help him shower twice a day, and each time she would end up naked with the boy fucking her, both stifling their moans of pleasure in case anyone walking past the locked bathroom heard them. For a week this went on, and the boy eagerly complied with Anita's request to fuck her anally. In fact he only fucked her cunt twice; the other twelve times were up her arse. Anita loved strolling around the wards, looking a little dishevelled, some lovely teen cum in her arse.
That had been seven-months ago, and was her last conquest of a boy. Just afterwards, she had met up with Lynda. Anita had advertised for a flatmate to share her two-bedroomed flat after her previous fellow tenant had moved out. Freshly graduated from Nursing College, Lynda turned up and, in one stroke, she and Anita became flatmates and colleagues.
Lynda had never been attracted to young boys, at least not until recently. The twenty-two-year-old brunette was bisexual, albeit with a strong preference for her own gender, and as soon as she and Anita had discovered one-another's lust for their own gender, a relationship became inevitable. For the first week they shared the flat together, they would tease each other, strolling around the place in underwear, or topless, or even naked, pretending to be just out the shower but really showing off their body to the other getting a kick out of seeing who would be more daringly exhibitionistic. Eventually, tipsy on wine, the two young nurses got into bed together and made love.
The horny lovers contrasted with each other in many respects. Lynda was physically small and fairly introverted, preferring to be lead rather to be the leader. On the other hand, Anita was tall, with jet black hair and a piercing gaze, and she was more outgoing and definately the dominant one of the pair. During sex she would take control, often strapping on a big dildo and playing the male-role, fucking and buggering Lynda, who would go wild with orgasmic delight as she eagerly accepted the role of mistress.
Then, last month, Anita had confessed her incestuous activities with her brother, and when Lynda seemed to find this a turn on, Anita had gone further and admitted what she'd been up to with the young patients at work. Lynda was greatly aroused, almost jealous, and though had never been attracted to young boys, she did suddenly see the exciting possibilities of indulging in such illicit fun with some of the cute pubescent darlings in their care. Soon enough she was asking to be 'in on it' and the pair decided to seduce a boy together. In fact, Lynda tried to go one step further and suggest they seduce a young girl too, but Anita, although excited by the suggestion, decided against it.
"It's impractical," she had said, wisely, "A girl in her early teens would be as freaked out at a grown woman trying to seduce them as they would be if it were a grown man. They'd squeal to their parents. Boys, on the other hand...well, what boy in his early teens, with testerone pumping round his young body, would turn down an offer of an attractive young woman such as either of us sucking him off? Or fucking him?"
They had decided to seduce the next possible candidate and sealed their conspiracy with a night of sweaty humping.
When they had seen Damien earlier that day, both knew he would be the one. He was such a cute lad, very sweet, and Anita was especially happy as the boy was twelve. That was the age of her brother when she had first got it on with him, and she'd not done one that young since then. Furthermore, Damien was not exactly injured. In fact, the doctor had put on the report that Damien could be released that day. Because the doctor had then fucked off on a golfing holiday for a week, Antia - given the chore of fetching the report - had easily modified it to say Damien should stay for two nights. It was a bit naughty, as was assigning the boy to a private room when there was no specific need, but Anita and Lynda were sure young Damien would appreciate it.
"Hiya," Lynda said as she walked up to Anita in the car-park. Being July, it was a warm evening, the sun only just having set.
"Hi honey," Anita grinned, grinding out her cigarette with her high-heeled black shoe, "Nice day at work?"
"It was a lovely day," giggled Lynda, the giggle of a shared secret.
"Let's go, I need to get home. I'm horny."
The pair of them walked, hand-in-hand, to their flat up the road. There, they exchanged tales about what they got up to that day, Anita expanding on the briefing she'd given Lynda earlier about how she'd jerked Damien off in bed, and Lynda triumphantly relating how she'd sucked the boy's cock after showing him her body. Lynda had mainly gone into this for a dare, for the excitement and because she wanted to be like Anita, but she had rapidly converted to Anita's opinion that pubescent boys were truly delicious, far more enjoyable than their older counterparts.
The two nurses had a quick dinner then, after a bottle of wine, frigged one another as they discussed the further activities they could get up to tomorrow with their darling patient. They had a long sixty-nine on the sofa before going to bed, Anita strapping on a long thick dildo and bum-fucking Lynda whilst the younger woman fingered her own cunt and cried out during multiple orgasms. Then she put the dildo on and returned the sodomistical favour to Anita. It was long past midnight by the time they finally fell asleep in one-another's arms.
Damien had a peaceful, uneventful night in hospital. He had all but forgotten about the nasty accident that had put him there, given that it had not been that nasty at all. His ankle hurt a little, so did his head, but not much. He slept peacefully and dreamed of dreams inspired by the other events that day, dreams that gave him an erection throughout his slumber.
Damien's mother, Clarissa, was obviously a little anxious about her son being in hospital, but as the boy was obviously going to make a swift recovery, she did not feel to guilty about taking advantage of being alone in the big suburban house.
Normally, when Damien was asleep in the next room, Clarissa confined herself to low-key, late night masturbation in bed, usually as she drifted off to sleep.
That night, however, she planned on pleasuring herself for a good long while, not having to worry about keeping the noise down or having to listen out in case Damien got up and decided to wander into her room wanting a glass of water (which he did occasionally, although as yet he had not caught his mum doing anything naughty!)
Shortly after ten o'clock that night, whilst her son was fast asleep in hospital and Lynda and Anita were fucking like rabbits in their little love-nest, Clarissa got onto her King-Sized bed. The thirty-seven-year-old blonde was naked and still slightly wet from a long soak in the bath. Her tall and slim body glistened wetly, the lamp-light shining on her juicy buttocks and her big heavy breasts. Her long golden hair stuck to her damp forehead as she lay back on the red satin sheets. She fingered her cunt for a while, also rubbing her breasts and idly thinking of the two pretty nurses who she had talked to at the hospital. At the time she had been thinking only of Damien's welfare, but now she was free to think back just how sexy those nurses had been. The smaller one, Lynda, had been so delicate looking, so sweet and innocent, albeit with an air of mischief that hinted she was certainly not innocent! The taller one, Anita, looked to be a lady like Clarissa - pushy, forthright, eager to get what she wanted in life. Anita had certainly possessed a nice figure too, Clarissa pondered as she masturbated. A gorgeous figure. Big firm young tits squeezed into that nurse's uniform. She'd seen Anita bend over to fetch something too and caught a lingering shot of the young, dark-haired woman's delicious bum.
Heated up and incredibly horny, Clarissa then went to her secret drawer, which contained a large collection of sexy lingerie (mostly bought as gifts by previous girlfriends) and also her sex-toys. She took a nine-inch pink dildo first and, laying back, legs spread, she worked it into her cunt. Moaning with pleasure, the horny single-mother pumped the plastic cock in and out of her snatch, imagining it was being handled by Anita, or Lynda. At that moment in time Clarissa would have probably gone to bed with any woman. Or man perhaps. Clarissa had long since been aware that she preferred women, but she had some trace of desire for the male sex.
Growing more horny, Clarissa soon took another sex-toy from her drawer. She squatted on the bed and worked the new dildo - a smooth white one, ten-inches in length - up into her cunt. Then she reached round and pushed the pink dildo up her arse. It was slick and slippery with cunt juices so it glided up into her rectum with relative ease. Double-plugged with fake cocks, Clarissa began crying out with ecstasy. She worked the dildos in and out of her, gripping the bases of those sex-toys with her slick fists, her cunt and anus spasming ecstatically round the enormous phalluses invading them. Clarissa thought of the two nurses, Lynda and Anita, imagining them naked and fucking her and each other. She thought of of her last girlfriend, then she thought of a rather attractive young typist who had just started work at her office, then Anita and Lynda again, then the handsome eighteen-year-old boy who served her at the supermarket on the way home from the hospital...anyone. She imagined fucking and being fucked by everyone she'd met that day, regardless of gender. Or age.
Clarissa imagined dominating a variety of sexual partners - seducing them, fucking them, urging teenaged boys to bugger her, pissing on sexy young nurses and fisting them. And she fantasised about being dominated - being pissed on, held down and fucked, fisted, spanked and buggered roughly...
Her body shaking with orgasmic delight, her head swimming with obscene fantasies, Clarissa endured a prolonged series of climaxes which almost caused her to faint. She collapsed on the bed, out of breath, sweaty and limp. The white dildo was still wedged half-way up her slick cunt, but the smooth pink one slid out of her anus with an obscene 'pop'. Greasy and smeared with shit, the dildo lay on the bed, a stained and inanimate accomplice to the wanton, onanistic delights of a sexually-frustrated single mother.
Clarissa got her breath back before she got off the bed, staggered to her feet and headed downstairs. She walked into the kitchen, the tiles cold against her bare feet, her lithe nude body illuminated silver in the ghostly moonlight that shone through the window. Clarissa grabbed a bottle of wine and opened it with a silver-plated corkscrew. Grabbing a large glass, she slipped upstairs like a thief in the night. She fancied getting a bit drunk then fingering her cunt and arsehole before falling asleep, sprawled on the sweaty duvet like a slut, a total contrast to the prim and proper businesswoman demeanour she was obliged to appear as each day.
Damien woke up with an erection. The cute twelve-year-old reached down his pyjama bottoms and played with himself as he slowly opened his eyes, wondering what time it was. It was warm under the bed-sheets and he felt very relaxed. Even his ankle didn't hurt much.
Slowly the memories of yesterday's fun with the nurses, Anita and Lynda, came back to him. He smiled warmly as he fondled his small hard pecker.
Five-minutes later, as if on cue, there was a knock on the door.
"Morning," Lynda smiled brightly, the pretty brunette strolling into the room and shutting the door behind her, locking it sneakily behind her.
"Mornin'," Damien smiled, grinning as he slowly sat up, "What time is it?"
"Just after nine o'clock," Lynda said. She walked to the bed and stroked her hand through Damien's hair. "And how is my handsome little patient this morning?"
"Fine," Damien giggled, finding it inexplicably amusing to be talking to a woman who had sucked his willy! It was bizarre, sexy, but above all, funny.
"You've got the giggles haven't you?" laughed Lynda.
Damien nodded, grinning.
"I bet you've got something else haven't you?" Lynda smirked. She took hold of the top of the bedsheets and slowly pulled them down to the end of the bed. Damien sat there, in his yellow pyjamas, still smirking. There was the unmistakable outline of an erect penis in his pyjama bottoms.
"I've got a stiffie," he proudly announced, "I've had one since I woke up."
"Can I see it?" asked Lynda, whispering, knowing instinctively it would give the boy encouragement to feel as if he was in control, as if he were granting a favour by allowing viewing of his cock.
Damien nodded, enthusiastically.
Lynda reached out and hooked her fingers under the elasticated wasteband of the hosptial-issue pyjamas and pulled them halfway down Damien's thighs. His small hairless cock lay across his lower-belly, hard and visibly pulsing.
"Mmmmm, what a nice hard willie you've got," Lynda grinned.
"It's 'cos I woke up thinking of you and Anita," Damien said, adopting Lynda's quite tone, enjoying this shared secret.
"Can I touch it Damien?"
"Of course. It feels nice when you touch it."
Lynda licked her lips as she reached out with her right hand and lightly gripped the boy's little erection in her forefinger and thumb. She held it upright and gently stroked up and down, hearing the child softly emit a sigh of pleasure.
Damien lay back on the bed, his head sinking into the crisp white pillow, looking through half-closed eyes at the sight of this pretty woman masturbating him. Once again he was stunned by the obvious realization that Lynda was clearly enjoying this, that she was not just doing him a favour. Lynda was soon increasing her pace a little, frigging him faster, making him groan with pleasure.
"What a lovely hard cock," Lynda sighed, "You don't mind if I take my clothes off do you Damien? The door is locked so we'll be okay."
"Go for it," Damien said, eyes suddenly wide open. He watched as Lynda let go of his cock and began stripping her nurse's uniform off. Her bra was soon off too, then her knickers, her stockings, her shoes...finally she was utterly nude. He watched the Naked Grown Up Woman (he capitalized those words in his thoughts, as a sign of child-like respect and awe towards an adult) as she folded her clothes neatly and placed them on a chair before turning back to him. He thought she'd just continue jerking him off, but instead Lynda hopped up onto the bed, and Damien's eyes grew wide with astonishment as Lynda swung her leg over his hips, so that she knelt astride his pelvis. She was kneeling upright, her lightly furred cunt hovering six-inches above his erect penis.
"Do I look pretty from this angle?" asked Lynda, sounding more confident than she normally did, thanks to being in such a position, kneeling astride this astonished little boy.
Damien just nodded, eyes flicking from Lynda's big beautiful eyes, her pert titties and her pink vagina.
"I can jerk you off some more," Lynda whispered, conspiritally, "Or I can put your willie in me. Which would you prefer?"
Damien didn't know what to say. He just lay there in dumb shock.
Lynda made the decision for the boy. She reached down and held Damien's erection upright, then she lowered her hips, lower and lower, until the throbbing purple head of Damien's prick nudged her juicy cunt-lips. Lynda slid down, quickly, as if worried the boy might squirm from underneath her. Taking her hand from Damien's cock, Lynda now knelt astride the boy, right on top of him, Damien's cock buried right up her tight snatch to the hilt.
"I'm in you," Damien gasped.
"You are sweetie," Lynda panted, over-whelmed with pleasure herself, not daring to believe she'd managed to accomplish what she'd set out to do that morning - to have sex with an underage boy - "You're in me. You're in my cunt."
"It's...good," Damien moaned, "Oh wow. Mmmmm."
"What does it feel like?"
"Tight. Hot. It feels...hot. And slippery. But tight."
"Does this feel good?" asked Lynda, rising up a little, hands on her slender thighs, half of Damien's four-inch erection sliding out of her vagina before she lowered herself and gobbled up the boy's penis once more with her cunt. "Does that feel good?" she repeated, almost drooling with lust.
"It did. It does. Oh wow."
"We're fucking Damien," purred Lynda, running her hands up the boy's pyjama top and over his belly, utterly in love with his barely developed young body. She rose up and down again, then up, down, repeating this steadily, watching Damien's eyelids flutter as he felt physical joy that he'd never felt before. "We're fucking," she repeated, as if to convince herself it was really happening too, "Oooh, yeah, we're fucking. Is it good Damien?"
"It's good," the twelve-year-old breathed, "Oh shit...it's good...fucking you is great Lynda."
Lynda increased her pace slightly, rising and falling, gripping Damien's erect dick in her tight young cunt whilst running her hands up his pyjama top and stroking his flat belly.
"Can I touch your tits?" asked Damien, reaching up, his hands hovering a few inches in front of Lynda's small but perfect breasts.
"Yes honey, touch them, feel them up whilst we fuck!"
Damien obeyed, licking his lips as he groped and fondled Lynda's breasts. He began to get into the swing of things a little, thrusting upwards gently, meeting Lynda's rythm, gently shoving his cock into her cunt as she fell onto him and pulling back slighty as she rose up. They were both gently moaning in pleasure, merging together in a sweet union of taboo pleasure, a twenty-two-year-old woman riding and fucking a twelve-year-old boy.
"Oh sweetie, oh sweetie," Lynda was groaning as she increase her pace further, riding Damien's cock fast, "Oh yeah, sweeties, fuck me, fuck me."
Damien clamped his hands over Lynda's tits as he began thrusting up harder, taking as active a role in the fucking motion as Lynda, thrusting his cock into her, up into her cunt. It barely registered with his heated mind that Lynda was - unconsciously or otherwise - calling him by the name his mum usually called him; "Oh sweetie, sweetie, fuck me, fuck me."
"Oh God, I'm gonna...cum..." panted Damien, suddenly, his hands squeezing involuntarily over Lynda's tits and making her yelp a little. "NNNNNG!"
"Cum in me," ordered Lynda, her voice quiet but heavy with lust, "Shoot it up my cunt!"
"Uh, uh, uhhhhhhhhh," groaned Damien, his sperm rising up and blasting out of his cock. The brunette nurse astride him pushed her cunt down onto his spurting cock, wanting the sperm to jet right into the depths of her womb. "Oh yeah....uuuh..." moaned Damien. Lynda suddenly worried about the noise the boy was making during his orgasm, so she bent over and clamped her lips to his, kissing the child lustilly as she felt his prick twitch and spurt in her cunt. She rammed her tongue into his warm throat and drank down his sighs of pleasure.
Finally, Damien, stopped moving underneath her, his body growing limp. Lynda rose up, grinning. Damien grinned up at her.
"That was, like, the coolest thing in the world," he commented.
Lynda thought for a moment before agreeing that, yes, indeed, that was the coolest thing in the world.
"I'd better get going," she suddenly said, remembering that she had told her superior she would be helping Damien shower, and that she had been in here for over ten-minutes. Lynda rose up, Damien's soft cum-and-cunt-juice slathered prick sliding out of her cunt and wilting over his belly. The nurse got off the bed and dressed. Damien pulled his pyjama bottoms up and then dragged the sheets over himself. He looked a little worried, as if Lynda would desert him.
"Will you come back sometime," he asked.
"If I can sweety," Lynda said, now fully dressed in her nurse's uniform. Her heart suddenly melted at the poor boy's obvious worry that she was deserting him. She stroked his hair and kissed him gently on the forehead, "I'll try and see you later. If not, Anita will."
"You're her girlfriend isn't she?" asked Damien, glumly.
"Yes. Why? What's wrong."
"I wanted you to be my girlfriend."
"I can be," smiled Lynda, "Anita can be my girlfriend, and you can be my boyfriend."
"I thought so. Now, someone will be round with breakfast soon. Your mum will probably visit too, visiting hours start at ten. You won't tell anyone about this will you?"
"No. No way."
"Okay. I'll try and see you later."
"Can we have sex again?"
"Hopefully, yes. If not...Anita might fuck you."
"You think so?" Damien gasped, the idea of having sex with two women in one day sounding so unreal and brilliant to him, especially on the same day he had lost his virginity, a concept he was only just beginning to take in.
"Of course she will," Lynda insisted, "Anita thinks you are really cute."
"Anita can be my girlfriend too can't she. You, me and Anita...girlfriends and boyfriends and girlfriends...like a Mirage A Troy."
"A ménage à trois," corrected Lynda with a giggle.
"Nevermind, you'll find out when you learn French at school. See you later sweetie."
Lynda gave the boy a kiss on the lips then left the room.
Damien grinned to himself. He shut his eyes and thought back to how good Lynda's cunt had felt. He wondered what Anita's cunt would feel like.
An hour later, Clarissa came to the hosptial to visit her son. She spent a few hours with him, plumped up his pillows, placed a stack of comics on the bedside cabinet that would have taken him a month to read through and generally fussed over him like any concerned mother. She was pleased that Damien seemed completely recovered, although Anita - when she popped in briefly at noon - did insist Damien should stay "at least until tomorrow morning." Clarissa accepted this, although she did spot a curious, mischievous glint in Anita's eye, and in Damien's, as if the pair had some shared secret.
Eventually, Clarissa went home after arranging to return the next day - Sunday - to bring her little boy home.
At four o'clock, Damien was laying on his bed, on his belly, dressed in his pyjamas. They were his own pyjamas, blues ones that his mum had bought in. He was watching cartoons on the TV in the corner of the room.
There was a knock on the door and, to Damien's delight, it was Anita.
"How are you sweetie?" the pretty dark-haired nurse asked as she closed the door.
"Fine," Damien grinned, turning and sitting up, instantly forgetting about the TV. He watched with excitement as Anita slipped the lock on the door.
"Lynda told me what you got up to earlier," Anita said as she stepped up to the bed and reached out, gently stroking Damien's arm.
"We did it," Damien proudly announced, "We had sex and stuff. It was ace."
"Lynda said she liked it too. She told me at lunchtime. Obviously no-one else can find out about this, but Lynda and me share our secrets."
"Sex is cool, I liked it."
"Would you like to do it with me?" asked Anita, softly, placing her hand over the boy's crotch and feeling a rapidly stiffening cock behind the cotton material.
The boy nodded, eyes wide with delight.
"You're such a beautiful boy," Anita was telling him, truly infatuated with this lovely angelic twelve-year-old.
"You're really pretty too Anita."
"Thank you. Would you like to have sex now? We can't take too long, I'm just meant to be checking up on you in here."
"Yeah, let's do it now. Are you going to get on top of me like Lynda did?"
"No. In fact, let's do something slightly different. Off the bed honey."
"Something different?" asked Damien, getting off the bed, "It's still sex though isn't it?"
"Yes, it's still sex. But different to what Lynda did with you."
Anita turned so that she was standing up against the bed, facing it, back presented to Damien. She unzipped her crisp whtie skirt and slid it down so that it fell to her ankles. Her blouse hung down past her black garter belt, hiding it mostly from view, although Damien could see the lacy straps that ran from the garter belt to the tops of the sheer black stockings she wore. Anita had on a pink thong with lacy red trim, the material running right up her arse-crack. Damien licked his lips as he admired Anita's delicious cheeks. They were perfectly shaped, round and firm looking.
"Pull my knickers down sweetie," Anita invited Damien. The boy licked his lips again and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the nurse's underwear, then he slid them down her long legs, all the way to her ankles. Then he stood up and watched as Anita bent over, right over the bed, propping herself up on her elbows. Her legs - with her skirt and thong round her ankles like sexy manacles - were slightly apart. Being bent over meant that Anita's bum-cheeks were parted and her anus was visible, a dark, shaved, puckered hole. Below hung her cunt, the lips pink and moist, bordered by short black pubic hair. Damien had a good look at the sight before him.
"Take your pyjama bottoms off," Anita told him, "Get your cock out sweety."
Damien quickly did so. He soon stood, just wearing his pyjama top, his erect penis sticking straight out from his bald groin.
"Where do I put it?" he asked, standing behind Anita as he looked at Antia's spread bottom. He had heard of anal-sex (or 'bumming' as he and his mates referred to it as, usually whilst giggling) and it was a fairly natural question for a boy to ask when his erection was presented with two willing orifices.
"Put it in my snatch first, then up my bum," Anita told him, her seductive voice heavy with lust. From behind the locked door came the general chatter and bustling noises of the rest of the children's ward, nurses and patients alike oblivious to the delicious activities in this private room.
Damien stepped up to Anita but the woman was much taller than him, and was also wearing high-heeled shoes, so that his erection just wobbled between her stocking-clad thighs, about four-inches below her cunt.
"I can't reach," he moaned.
Anita bent her legs at the knees, her bum lowering dutifully.
"How's that?" she asked, finding such practical problems when having sex with little boys both arousing and amusing.
"Yeah that's it," Damien cheerfully announced, his cock level with Anita's cunt, "Cheers." He held the base of his prick and, with his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration, he pushed the head of his dick to Anita's cunt lips. He thrust forwards and easily slid most of his four-incher into the slick wet hole. Then he placed both his hands onto Anita's back, lightly gripping the material of her white blouse, and slid the rest of his erection into her. Woman and boy both let out gentle sighs of pleasure.
"Does that feel good sweetie?" Anita asked, savouring every moment of this wonderful exercise, bent over a bed and being cunt-fucked from behind by a delicious twelve-year-old boy.
"It feels really good," Damien replied, and he instinctively began to thrust back and forth, his lily-white bum-cheeks clenching and unclenching as he pumped his cock in and out of Anita's juicy snatch. The nurse closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling gently overwhelmed with joy as she was fucked. It wasn't just the lovely feeling of a hard little boy-cock pumping her snatch that delighted her, it was the childish enthusiasm of Damien that turned her on. She could hear Damien's soft panting as he worked up a sweat, fucking her deeply with hard thrusts of his hips.
"Uh, uh, uh," he grunted, "Oh Anita, this feels so cool. I'm going to shoot my load soon."
"Hold on sweetie," Anita warned him, "I want you to do my bum next."
"Do women like that? One of my mates said not a lot of women like being bummed."
"I like it," Anita informed him, grinning at the childish phrase, 'bumming', "I like being bummed, it feels good. So does Lynda, so if you get to do it with her again before you go home tomorrow, you should see about doing her in her backdoor."
"I don't want to go home tomorrow," grumbled Damien, pulling his erection out of Anita's cunt and stepping back.
"Well, maybe you could visit Lynda and me sometime, at our house," Anita said. She had never made such a promise before, it was too risky to continue seeing a boy from hospital in case the boy's parents found out. She was too infatuated with Damien to let him go though.
"That would be cool, I could visit you and Lynda and we can do it loads with each other," Damien enthusiastically declared.
"We'll plan that later," Anita told him, "Now we had better hurry. People will get suspicious if I'm in here too long. Stick your willie up my arse sweetie."
Damien concentrated once more as he held the base of his erection and guided the head to Anita's anus. He pushed, feeling resistance at first, but Anita had taken several cocks - and lot's of dildos, fingers and even fists - up her arse so was able to relax her sphincter and fight the instinctive reaction to tighten it up against an invader. Damien's prick was slippery with vaginal juices too, so after a moment, the head popped up into Anita's arsehole.
"Oh wow, cool," Damien grinned.
"Uuuuh, that feels good," sighed Anita, feeling a shiver of ecstasy rippled up from her pierced anus and spread throughout her body, "Stick it up right up me. Right up my arse."
Damien once again placed his little hands on Anita's back and thrust his cock forwards, sinking it right up to the hilt in Anita's arse. His slender pelvis was pressed against Anita's juicy bum-cheeks.
"How does it feel?" asked Anita, her voice quivering with pleasure, "Is it good honey?"
"It's good," stammered Damien as he began thrusting back and forth, "It's....really good...and tight. It's tight. Oh wow. Oh yeah."
"Fuck me," Anita purred, almost startling Damien with her profanity, "Fuck my arse. Ram your cock right up my shitter."
As he worked his cock to and fro in Anita's arsehole, Damien felt even more aroused because of Anita's use of the word 'shitter'. It reminded him that this tight hole he had his dick up was the hole that Anita used to shit from. Shit usually came out of it, and now his dick was up there. It felt so kinky and even a little dirty, which made it seem all the more enjoyable.
"Mmmm, oh yeah, I'll shoot my stuff soon," Damien was soon gasping, thrusting harder, "Oh, oh, uuuh." His hairless nut-sac bounced against Anita's moist cunt, his pelvis clapped against her buttocks, his cock repeatedly darted into the clasping depths of her shit-chute. "Uh, uh, uh....Nnnnnng!" Damien rammed his cock to the root in Anita's arse and his sperm flowed.
"Shoot it up me honey, fill me up," moaned Anita, thrusting her arse back slightly, wanting Damien to be up her bum as far as possible.
"Oh yeah....uuuuh," Damien was gasping, his cock pulsing as it squirted sticky fuck-sauce into Anita's rectum. After at least seven squirts he had finally emptied his balls. Feeling suddenly very tired, Damien stepped back, his semi-hard penis slipping out of Anita's twitching anus, from which a dribble of sperm ran out of. "That was great," he grinned.
"It was, wasn't it?" Anita agreed, still bent over, "You fuck very well Damien."
"Oh yes. You made me feel very good. I loved that. Before you leave we shall definately make plans to meet up. You, me and Lynda. But only if you promise not to tell anyone. Not your mum, not your friends, not anyone."
Anita turned and pulled up her knickers and skirt. She zipped the skirt up and brushed herself down, ensuring she looked respectable once more. Damien just stood in front of her, idly playing with his willy.
"I'd better continue my rounds," Anita said, smiling lovingly, "Maybe I'll see you later."
"I hope so," Damien grinned. Anita gave him a kiss then helped him put on his pyjama bottoms. The boy clambered into bed. Anita gave him another kiss then finally left.
"Cool," Damien said to the empty room as he snuggled down in bed. He had fucked two women in one day, and done one up the bum! It was great being in hospital, he thought. Damien kept a diary at home, a little private ledger of the rambling thoughts and childish adventures of a twelve-year-old boy. He couldn't wait to write about this weekend!
Anita and Lynda were too busy to spend any time with Damien that evening. The two nurses spent most of that night at home screwing one another and telling each other every sordid detail of their activities with their little-boy lover.
The next morning, Damien was woken early by Lynda. She locked the door and, soon enough, Lynda was emulating Anita the previous day, bending over the bed, skirt and knickers round her ankles. She instructed the nude Damien to fuck her cunt for a moment then to fuck her arse. The boy was naturally more than happy to comply with such lustful demands. Lynda was only a few inches taller than him, pretty much the right height, and he eagerly slid his erection into her hot wet snatch. As instructed, Damien withdrew after a moment and eased his juice-slathered penis into Lynda's rectum, right up to the root.
Lynda's arsehole was tight, even tighter than Anita's, and after just a couple of minutes of thrusting Damien lost his seed. He pumped Lynda's bowels full of his sweet young sperm.
Once Damien was back in bed, grinning proudly, and Lynda had pulled up her skirt and underwear, the pair made a few plans. Lynda and Anita thought it was worth it, despite the risks of being found out, to set up an encounter with Damien once he had been discharged from hospital. Damien explained that his mother went out every Friday nights with friends, so Lynda promised that she and Anita would come round the next Friday evening. It was a whole six-days away and Damien, who was a very impatient patient, wanted to see his 'girlfriends' earlier. Lynda told him it would be worth the wait, and that she and her lover would be on Damien's doorstep that Friday, horny and itching for more sexual frolics.
She kissed Damien goodbye and left the room.
An hour later, Clarissa arrived and took her boy home, naturally fussing over him - despite the boy showing little sign of any illness from his minor accident two days ago - and she also wondered why her son kept grinning all the time. She put it down to the fact that it was the start of the school holidays.
During the week, Damien was incredibly impatient. He filled his diary with every details of what he'd been up to with Anita and Lynda, knowing that if he wrote it down in there he'd be less likely to be tempted to tell anyone else. He knew the importance of not letting anyone else in on the secret. In fact he would not have liked to have told anyone anyway, even if he was allowed. After all, if his friends knew, they might want to join in. Damien wanted his two lovely girlfriends to himself!
Clarissa worked during the week, content to know that Damien was mature enough to take care of himself during the day. The boy jacked off frequently, running through the past weekend's events in his head and looking forward to Friday. It was a shame Anita and Lynda were on the day-shift all week otherwise they could come over during the day.
But then, Damien now realized the advantage of suspense. He knew that Friday would be extra special having waited for it all week.
Sadly, disaster struck on Friday evening.
When she got home from work Clarissa told Damien that she was not going out that night.
"But mum!!" whined Damien, "You always go out on Fridays."
"Well not tonight honey," Clarissa told him, not batting an eyelid at the fact that Damien was seemingly infuriated with her decision not to leave him alone in the house for the evening. She explained she was having some 'important business friends' over and she did not want Damien cluttering up the house. "I've arranged for you to go to Ian's house, his mum will babysit you for the evening." Ian was Damien's best friend.
Damien wanted to protest as he watched his chances of having an evening of 'playing' with his new best-friends - Anita and Lynda - slipping away. But he couldn't cause a fuss, his mum would get suspicious. He sulked a bit then his mum drove him to Ian's house.
Damien spent the evening playing computer games with Ian, but he was not exactly thrilled about this scenario. He was also worried because Anita and Lynda would be turning up at his house soon and his mum would wonder what they were doing coming round. He just hoped the two nurses would come up with a good excuse, that they were just checking up on him or something. Damien wished he'd had their phone-number so he could warn them.
There was nothing he could do now though.
Dressed in tight jeans and even tighter, skimpier tops that showed off their flat toned bellies, Anita and Lynda stood on the doorstep of Damien's house. It was 6:55PM, five-minutes earlier than the time they'd agreed with Damien. If anything, the two horny boy-lovers were even more enthusiastic about the prospect of tonight than Damien had been. All week they had thought of all the delicious things they would do to their little boy, and all the things they would get him to do to them.
The pretty young lady's faces dropped when the front door opened and Clarissa stood there. She wearing a satin dressing-gown, a shimmering robe the same emerald-green colour as her eyes, and the gown's belt was tied quite tight so that her shapely figure was quite evident. Her long strawberry-blonde hair was slightly damp and dishevelled from a shower.
"Oh," mouthed Anita, taken back a bit, "Er..."
"Are you here for Damien?" asked Clarissa. She did not look at all surprised by these visitors.
"Um..." stammered Lynda.
"He's not here," Clarissa said, her voice forceful, although not aggressive, "just me." She stood aside, holding the door open. "Come on in ladies."
Anita and Lynda glanced at each other. As usualy, Lynda was looking to Anita for guidance, but for once Anita was as indecisive as her young lover.
"Come on in," repeated Clarissa, "If you don't you'll never get a chance to fuck my son again."
As Clarissa expected, the two visitors nervously glanced at her then at each other, knowing that they'd been caught but instinctively realizing that they weren't in trouble. Not in a traditional sense. Neither really knew what to make of this development. With no other real choice, Anita and Lynda finally, nervously, stepped into the house.
"Into the living room," Clarissa ordered the pair as she shut and locked the front door, "It's through that door there, on the left." She nodded approvingly to herself as she looked down and admired the cute wiggling bottoms of the two young women as they turned and went into the living room, Anita in the lead, Lynda following nervously behind.
Clarissa had found Damien's diary yesterday whilst tidying up his room. Out of curiosity she decided to have a quick peek. By chance, it opened up on the pages for last weekend and, in tiny handwriting, her son had enthusiastically chronicled every single thing that had happened whilst he'd been in hospital. Clarissa had read with some interest what Damien had been up to with the nurses, or more specifically what the nurses had been up to with him. She had also noted that, for today, Friday, Damien had drawn a big smiley face and then a simple sentence:
7 o'clock - Anita + Lynda coming round to house for fun!
With it being three-years since she'd last had sex with anyone - man or woman - Clarissa had decided it was about time she had some fun too, and with Damien conveniently out of the way for the evening, she planned on getting thoroughly acquainted with the two lovely sluts who had spirited away her little boy's innocence.
To be continued...
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