Budding Boobs

Chapter 2

Nutlike nippletips nude to the sun, Babette thought she would have a little more fun. She brought her hand up between her knees.

Slid the flat palm between.

Upward.

Gave her cunny a squeeze.

Strummed her clitbud with her thumb. Began to hum and move her rump.

Babette snapped open her eyes.

Then yanked her hand away from between her thighs. Licked the ooze from her fingers.

Wiped the residue across her tits.

Snatched the ringing poolside telephone with her mitts. Cupped the receiver to her ear and yip. Sank down on her hips.

Winced as she heard the voice.

"Hey, dudesse. Like you know who this is."

"Uh. Let me guess. You're asking for donations to benefit underfucked sex-crazed youths."

"Close. Not a bad idea. I'll try it sometime. This is the Rude Warrior."

"Oh. Hi, Rudy."

"What's up?"

"Oh, just lying in the sun."

"Out by the pool?"

"Uh, sort of."

"Bet you're naked."

"What makes you think that?"

"Saw your parents at the mall. Figured, now, what would I do if I were home alone? With that nice sundeck and pool."

"Not everyone's like you, dude."

"Darleene said you did. She said she and you went skinny dipping all the time when your folks weren't about. Hey! That's bodacious!"

"Two girls in the nude."

"Why not? What do you think bodies were made for? To strut and fuck. Sure enough."

"Now why would you say something like that to a girl. That's frightfully rude."

"Hey-that's my name."

"You really shouldn't think you have to live up to it. What gives? Darleene's not here."

"You think just because it's you two girls that it's not like sex? Babette, grow up."

"Darleene and I are not lesbians. Fresh."

"You two ever kissyface?"

"Shut up."

"Play tug-the-titties?"

Babette blushed.

"You know that's just like guys jerking around in locker rooms," she said.

Stroking herself again.

Thinking of fresh clit.

Tempting cuntlips.

Boobs crammed into girlish mouths.

"So you aren't a couple of dykes," Rudolph cackled. "Maybe you really need a dude around to chill you out."

"As I said. Darleene isn't here now."

"I have to talk to you. Not Darleene, In fact, just between us-"

"Gawd! What do you want?"

"I don't like talking over the phone about-it's important. And secret."

"So you want to come over. Right? So slay me with another surprise."

"I can be there in five minutes."

"Don't kill yourself."

Babette hustled her hiney.

Hurried to get back into her bathing suit. She accidentally stabbed her thumb between the cheeks of her rump as she tried to pry the elastic crotch from where she had snagged the rim of her bum.

There was a tingle in her clit.

Snarl to her cuntlips.

Felt good.

Jabbing your asshole.

Real good.

She stabbed her pucker again.

Felt better.

Babette arched her back. Brought her kneecaps up to the nippletips of her breastbuds.

Got a good angle on her ass.

Brought her thumb up to her bum with a thrash. Trashed her asshole with jackhammer action.

Twisting inward.

Increasing the friction.

"Uh."

Babette her hips.

The thumbnail nipped.

"Eeeeeh."

She shimmied her haunch.

"Uhck!"

Tip of thumb hummed in her asshole.

"Oh oh oh."

She stroked her slit with her other hand. Some-thing new.

A bit of a different way she could fuck herself. Thumb taken tightly in her ass.

Gash flailed with fingernails.

Babette began to wail.

"Ululululu!"

Then came the burps of Rudy's motorcycle coming up the driveway.

Gravel grating.

Heavy boots skating, shuffling.

Mumbles and shakes.

As Babette brought the top of her swimsuit over the tips of her tits, Rudolph Blastitoff rounded the side of the house. He grinned a bit uncertainly and played with the silver ear stud in the shape of a skull and crossbones he wore inserted into the meat of his left earlobe.

"Hiya, Rudy."

"Hey, dudesse."

"Get undressed."

"Huh? Sure."

"I'm really hot now, Rudolph. Maybe we could both cool off."

"Yuh."

Babette watched as Rudolph pulled off his leather motorcycle jacket.

She noticed he didn't yipe when she called him that-Rudolph. He usually wanted the chicks to use a more swaggering form of moniker. He said he had enough of Rudolph from his parents and teachers.

One thing for sure, Babette thought. He sure did not need that fakey motorcycle punk look.

She saw the white-blonde roots of his hair under-lining the dyed-black punkish crest that Babette thought made him resemble a rooster. He stripped the sweat-soaked teeshirt from his torso.

Babette took in his tits. Brushed his navel with her eyes.

Took eye-travel down his thighs.

"So you want to take a swim, Babette? Let's dive in-as soon as I strip down."

"Not right away. And don't bother to go all the way, kid. No skinny-dipping today."

"Balls."

She noted the muscular curve of his haunch as he jack-knifed his body to pull off his boots. Then stood straight up, legs apart.

His physical trappings certainly weren't the problem. He was well-endowed there.

No, Babette, reflected. Rudolph had no kicks against that hardbod of his.

Rudolph in the flesh was best. You did not see his problems if you were so diverted.

They were all in his head.

"What's that there?" Babette said.

Rudolph fingered the bulge in the pocket of his discarded leather jacket.

"Cassette player."

"And?"

"Tape."

"Of what?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. It's a song I wrote."

"What's it about?"

"It's-uh-about you, Babette."

"Really?"

"Thought maybe you could listen to it. Tell me what you think."

"You wouldn't by any chance want Darleene and me to do it in our band."

"You could if you want."

"Well, you know our group is concentrating on original material. Stuff Darleene and I write, mostly. They're all band compositions."

"So just listen and tell me what you think "

"Okay."

Rudolph extracted the portable cassette deck and snapped it on. As the tape began to roll, Babette swung her eyes down Rudolph's chest.

Came to rest on his flat stomach.

"Cute," she said.

"Cute?"

"Yeah. Bouncy rhythm."

The chopped guitar chords wrenched Rudolph's song forward, underpinned by a loping bass line. There was a drum part laying down a tight pulse, supplied by a tinny percussion machine.

"But it's the words, Babette. You should listen to the lyrics. They're important."

"I can't understand any of them. That you singing by any chance, Rudolph?"

"Yeah. And all the instruments, too."

"It's good, Rudolph. I do wish I could hear the words more clearly."

"I can tell them to you."

"No good without the music."

"I'll sing along."

"I have to get ready for rehearsal now."

"But you said we could go in. Dive in for a swim. Just for a minute."

"Last one in sucks guitar picks!"

Babette broke into a sprint.

Rudolph lurched behind her, opening the tops of his jeans. He shoved the denim pants down over his ass, stood up in his underpants.

Babette sliced into the water, barely creating a splash. Her ass bobbed up.

Then her head.

She hooked her neck around just in time to see Rudolph tumbling through the air.

His chest muscles bulging. A ranginess to his hair. A roughness to his limbs.

As he straightened out his body in flight, through the fly of his underpants the tip of his penis came into sight. By the time Rudolph lanced into the water, Babette had gotten a glimpse of the entire length of his long curved meat.

Erect cock.

Thick and neat.

"No, Rudolph."

He came up to the surface of the water between her legs. Babette grabbed out to keep from falling over backward.

Automatically, she squeezed his back.

Bringing him close in to her chest.

Hard.

"Oh, Rudolph."

"What? You grabbed me."

"But I didn't mean it that way."

Babette felt her budding boobs braced into his pectoral muscles.

The nipples she knew were crinkled.

But that did not necessarily mean she was sexually aroused.

At least not for Rudolph.

In that instant, Babette thought of Channing Bentley. Wished he were here.

She sure missed him.

She would kiss him.

But not just any dude.

And maybe she would strip too.

If she really adored a guy the way Babette adored Channing, a girl should feel free to have certain privileges of intimacy.

Because he would be like a friend to her too.

And Babette skinny-dipped with Darleene and her other girlfriends.

So why not with Channing?

Babette felt the stretch of Rudolph's slick dong tamping her underneath her rump.

She found herself with legs spread.

Knees hiked up.

Thighs crushed around Rudolph's waist.

Surprise to her.

"Hey, Babette!"

He caressed her neck.

Brought his face into hers.

Babette herky-jerked her head to the side. Rudolph noshed her neck.

She did not resist.

Felt the flame lick up to her ear. Then the tonguetip and the wet breathe inside.

"Oooooh, Rudolph. Stop it."

"Why? You're laughing."

"Cause it tickles."

Babette broke away from him and ducked underneath the water.

Rudolph was right upon her.

Grabbing first her toes.

Holding her by the ankles.

Then crawling up her legs.

Swimming up her backside.

"Jesus. Like, don't rape me or anything. You know I'm just a cocktease."

"Yeah. That's what Darleene said."

"Shit. Fuck you, and Darleene too."

"Don't worry. Darleene's a prickteaser just like you. That slut-bitch act is just that."

"That's what I thought."

Rudolph was calming down a bit, now that he knew Babette was not about to fuck for him. That much Babette could say for Rudolph.

He read a girl's intentions. Didn't really try to force himself on her.

Not like others Babette had been up against.

Babette was more comfortable now. Enjoying swimming around leisurely with Rudolph.

Relaxed, Babette's thoughts began to float in a certain direction.

Toward her midsection.

The first envisioned Channing's lips with a stranglehold on her twat.

Twisting her clit into a knot.

Then Channing's face blurred.

And turned into another head.

Another head but with no real face.

One she had seen some other place.

Stabbing up from the leanness of Rudolph Blastitoffs groin as he had dove into the swimming pool behind Babette.

The hard head of his cock she had felt peck against her thighs.

Cockhead wanting to crow.

Grow in size.

Inside her thighs.

Take her up her slit clear to her eyes. Incise her slickly, quickly.

Rudely.

Big dick hungering.

Feeding on her flesh.

That was the good thing about fantasy, Babette thought. She was awash in her twat as she twitched out of the water.

"Guess I better go now, Babette."

"Yeah. Sorry, but I got to get dressed."

"So what did you really think of my tape."

"I think the music's great. But can't make out any of the words you say are so important."

"I'll record another version."

Babette would try to ignore that comment.

"At any rate, Rudolph. You should work on it yourself. It wouldn't fit in with the Boppettes' sound at all"

"I didn't know you had a so-called Boppettes' sound. That's kind of limiting-creatively. Know what I mean?"

"We have to have an identity for the judges to latch onto when we perform at the sate fair."

"Isn't that selling out?"

"It's gaining an audience."

"But if it's false-"

"What's falser than a bunch of kids getting up on a stage and claiming they're great to begin with?"

"If your songs aren't what you really feel-"

"And your song would be what the Boppettes really feel? Give me a frigging break."

"If it represented what you were about, it doesn't matter who wrote it."

"Please don't be so annoying. Like it really barfs me out."

Rudolph looked hurt as he whipped his body out of the water and onto the pool deck.

"Come on, Rudolph. I'm telling you for your own fucking good. You would go down a lot better with girls if you didn't act so insecure. And conceited at the same time."

"You sound like you're trying to say you know everything. How everyone should act. That's a big head talking, Babette."

"Are you following me?"

"I was just talking to you."

"And where are we now?"

"Inside your house."

"Yeah. And I told you I was going to get dressed now. Did you think I was going to ask you to sing me your jerky song while I was in the shower or something? Ask you to fasten my bra?"

"Good bye, Babette."

"Yeah. Drip by anytime."

"Say hello to Darleene."

"You want me to tell her you tried to feel me up in the pool? Tried to get me to kiss you? And how you licked my neck?"

"We were just fooling around."

"Yeah, right. I was. I don't know about you. Darleene know about your song? I mean, if she's your girlfriend and the song's supposed to be about me- that's a little strange."

"Uh-I just went with the inspiration."

"Bullshit. I'll bet that's the same song Darleene said you wrote about her."

"Oh? She say anything about how she liked it? It wasn't finished then."

"We were actually talking about something else when she mentioned it in passing."

"I just had some of the words together then. I changed it all around later. When I was doing the music to it."

"Gag me with a drumstick."

"Now it's about you, Babette."

"You just changed the name."

"And besides. Darleene isn't exactly going with me steady or anything. I know what she does. And I get around plenty too."

"There are five girls in the band, Rudolph. How many more Boppettes you got left to hit on now? Or are Darleene and I the first?"

Rudolph looked at Babette as if she had just slapped his face.

"I'll be taking off now, Babette."

"Look, Rude Warrior baby. No hard feelings- okay? I was joking around. I won't tell Darleene about any of this stuff. I kind of liked talking to you. Just don't go telling Darleene that."

Rudolph was outside, kicking over his motorcycle. As he scattered gravel in the driveway, Babette thought about how light and airy, free hand giggly she had felt for a few minutes outside in the pool.

Babette stripped out of her swimsuit and turned on the shower. She remembered how good it had felt when she had split herself open.

Touched herself down there.

All over.

Stroking her hair.

Splitting her slit.

When she had stabbed her clit.

Frigged her fanny.

And then later.

When Rudolph's cock had touched her there. On the outside skin of her swimsuit.

Prick, stiff and limber.

Just separated from her bare juicebulb by nothing more than the stretch material of the bathing suit.

Babette sighed as the hot water needled into her flesh. She sensed it slosh down her back and into the cleft between her fannycheeks.

Yes.

Fantasy was great that way.

She could do what she wanted.

With whomever she wanted.

And it didn't have to be sanctioned. Why, if she had a hankering to go after Rudolph's hog-so long as it was only in her mind-who gave a shit?

"Are you following me?" she said again, this time in her mind."

"I was just talking to you," Rudolph said again, in Babette's head.

Hand hefting her quim, Babette pursued her fantasy fuck.

"Wait out here, Rudolph. I'm going to take a shower now."

"I can sing it loud from out here."

Water steamed over Babette's boobs. Licked along her labia and clitoris.

"Can't hear you, Rudolph. You'll have sing a lot louder, I think."

"I'll have to come in."

"Hey, Rudolph."

"Hey, it's okay. Look-I don't have a hardon. I just want to sing-"

Babette's hand hooked under his belly.

She brought the cock forward and up. Smacked her self between the thighs.

"Unh."

Gripped his asscheeks within tight fists. Tortured her twatlips.

Rudolph held the head of his twanger. He winced as he flinched at her opening.

Then cracked his haunch forward.

Prickhead ranting on up.

"Oh."

The thickness fidgeted in her vaginal canal. Darted in and out.

The prick worked its snout inward.

Then retreated a ways.

Charged in again.

"Ngh."

"God, Rudolph"

"I won't come."

"It's not that."

"Ugh."

"Aren't you being a little rough?"

"That's how it feels, Babette. Don't tell me you're a virgin."

"I won't tell you anything of the sort."

Babette relaxed her cunt muscles. Accepted his rutting eagerly.

Her twatlips thirsted for the fission of that elusive joyjuice-his jissom.

Rudolph played his fingers up and down her back. Babette shivered as he stroked her ass.

His long musician's fingers fiddled in her cranny. Folded the asscheeks flat apart. Flapping the lobes like a valentine heart.

"Is it in yet?" one of them said.

"You bet."

They both giggled.

Brought lips together.

Exchanged spittle.

Joined at the middle.

Babette hopped he haunch down the length of his lingam. In her crotch, Babette's fingers simulated his stinger.

In her mind, her flopping palm was his scrotum slapping as he rutted.

His nuts nestled in the clench of her hand. She twisted them as he twined his cock inside of her cunt with a grunt.

"Ngh."

"Up."

"Yeah, more."

"Higher."

Prick eating up cunt.

He hot-cocked her with every inch.

Babette flinched.

Loosened.

Fell back against the sides of the bathing stall. Mauled her breastbuds.

Clubbed her clit.

Almost tasting it in her twat.

Almost like real-live cock.

Babette slid down like a zipper.

She splayed her legs.

Lay, come-cascading from her, ass up. Holding onto the nozzle of the bathwater spigot.

Sucking onto its tip.

Turning the spigot on a bit.

While frigging her clit.

Babette tasted the liquid. Licking as it lurched from.the steely appendage.

The liquid streamed down her neck. Over the curves of her tits.

Searing her flesh.

Babette tasted come in her lips. Remembrance of that taste she had gotten from Channing's dried sperm glued to his regal stationery.

Babette speared her snatch with a batch of fingernails. Took hold of her tail and flailed. Against the tip of the spigot she railed.

Frictioning herself to oblivion.