THE AMOROUS ADVENTURES OF DOLLY
A Serial Novel in Progress
Dolly had almost everything a girl might want: A rich "sugar daddy," a beach-front home, and looks that only the very luckiest are born with. She had a Porsche in the garage, a wardrobe to die for and connections with all the right people. Men fell in love at the sight of her, and even women put aside their natural tendency to envy the competition and admired her well-proportion six-foot frame, tanned to perfection and topped by a pile of fiery red hair straight from a Titan painting.
And so Dolly was deliriously happy, right? Wrong. She was lacking one thing: the perfect orgasm.
Oh, Dolly came, make no mistake there! She went off like a roman candle when a man's (or woman's, for that matter) lips caressed that near perfect pussy between her hard thighs. She melted when her tight pussy was parted by a 10-inch cock (something of a "size queen," she had learned to weed out those with smaller works some time before, as the contacts were always something less than fulfilling, not to mention that men with small dicks always had to play especially macho to make up for their shortcomings.) She could "cum" a dozen times under the right circumstances and there was not doubt as to the heat of her passion--it ran like light cream from that sweet pinkness down the crack of her gorgeous ass to make puddles on the bed, puddles into which more than one lover had thrust his/her face in an effort to experience one last whiff, one parting taste of her glowing nectar.
Enjoy it all as she might, Dolly still felt somewhat unfulfilled. She knew there had to be something more, something that went beyond the pleasant tingling that filled her lower belly. She had been close to "it," whatever it was, had been on the edge of that dark abyss that exists somewhere beyond mere pleasure, had come near to falling into its glorious depths. But always, at the last minute, it was taken away like a toy taken from an unruly child. She always felt punished by that, a feeling that diminished the pleasure she normally would have felt from close contact with an experienced lover.
In retrospect, Dolly believed her upbringing might have a major place in the root of her problem. She had been raised in rural West Virginia in abject poverty, in a class known as "white trash." "Work" was a word not in her family's lexicon and they survived by making moonshine whiskey and stealing hogs, chickens or anything else that was not bolted down.
She had grown up among those bleak hills and hollows, a dirty but beautiful little ragamuffin used, at the age of 10, to being fucked by any man who desired to drag her back in the bushes for a few minutes of brutal sex. As a child she had grown accustomed to the feel of their hard cocks ripping into her prepubescent pussy, of their beards rubbing her lower lips raw as their stinking, tobacco-stained mouths greedily sucked and chewed her fledgling cunt. Or the awful taste of their nasty cocks in her mouth, and the way she gagged when they grabbed her head and forced her to swallow the streams of slime they ejaculated there, shoving their dicks down her throat as they grunted and humped. . .The same unwashed cocks they frequently stuck into their sheep and cattle, when the womenfolk were on the rag and a child was not handy. Some, brain-damaged by years of inbreeding, would just as soon grab a young boy and ass fuck him when the lust set in, it was all hot flesh to them no matter what the source.
Dolly ran away at the age of 14 and thumbed her way to California: Charleston to LA was a twenty-cock trip, she later laughed to a friend, in detailing the number of men she fucked and sucked on her cross-country odyssey. One of her rides on that journey was a fat and perspiring Baptist minister who, despite his great sense of piety, could not resist his lust when the cute young blonde got into his Oldsmobile. Years later Dolly still smiled to herself as she recalled how the old bastard had snorted like a pig as she sucked his short, fat cock there in a roadside pullout, and how he had been so silent and dejected afterward, shame-faced, until he could hurriedly get shed of her at the next town.
She'd also had her first lesbian experience during that trip. A middle-aged woman had offered her a ride at the Oklahoma roadside cafe where her last ride had dropped her off. The woman, Edith, said she was a retired librarian and was going to visit her daughter in New Mexico. She had been a rather prim and proper woman in her late 50's Dolly guessed, a woman who could not image a girl so young out on the road on her own; Dolly, of course, had lied about her age and put it at 17, an age for which she could easily pass because of the way her body had matured.
As evening drew on Edith suggested that they get a motel room and make a fresh start the following morning, as she could easily get to her daughter's by mid-morning. She made a big production of obtaining a room with two beds, and then treated Dolly to dinner at the motel's dining room. Afterward, they watched television for an hour or so and then retired.
Dolly awoke sometimes in the night to discover Edith getting into bed with her. She had heard people talk about women who were "queer for women" in the same way her uncle Bud was queer for other men, but the idea didn't frighten her. And so when Edith asked if it was OK to join her, Dolly scooted over and let the older woman into her bed. And she was amazed at the gentle way the woman kissed first her breasts and then her cunt--not hard and brutal like the men, but with a tenderness that felt so good. After a while, as Edith's tongue ran back and forth across her hard little love button, Dolly leaned forward toward Edith's body and placed her head between the older woman's legs. She liked the smell that struck her nose suddenly, a smell not unlike that on her own fingers many times after she'd played with herself down there. She pressed forward and felt course hair and wetness on her lips, and Edith groaned and shifted, raising her upper leg. Dolly let her tongue slide out and into the warm wetness, which tasted salty and good. She was already starting to tingle down there, but the taste of Edith's pussy intensified that feeling, like electrical current shooting across her privates. She then ran her tongue in and out of the woman's cunt rapidly, and the older woman began to roll her body toward the mouth, gasping and moaning through her own busy lips. Soon, they were locked together groaning into each other's pussies, each drinking the love juice of the other.
She gave me a $20 bill when she dropped me off the next morning, Dolly told her friend. I guess it was the first fuck I ever got paid for!
Chapter 2
Like most young runaways who hit Los Angeles in the mid-eighties, Dolly headed straight for Hollywood. Many, many times, sitting in the ragged shack she called home back in the hills of West Virginia, she had watched the television shows that came into the hollow via a rickety antenna; All those beautiful people milling around on palm-lined streets filled with shiny new cars, gleaming buildings and the promise of riches. Even as a very young girl Dolly had known that she wanted such a life for herself, wanted to escape the filth and squalor of the place she called home. Yes, she wanted hard cocks (in truth, it was not the sex she objected to, she had found that she had a great affinity for that, it was the filthy men who used her that she hated), but she wanted them to be hung between the legs of those tanned, smiling men she saw on the magic box.
Alas, "Sunset Strip" turned out to be something of a disappointment the first time she laid eyes on it. Mostly, it was a dirty ribbon of asphalt lined with a lot of lackluster bars, cafes, furniture stores, nude wrestling parlors, used car lots and porn shops. There were also scads of young kids like herself, male and female, lurking about singly and in groups, unkempt and looking for the most part like the homeless ragamuffins they were. Sometimes, shiny cars cruising slowly by would pull to the curb. A kid would break away from the group, walk over and lean down to converse with the driver. Sometimes they would get into the car, and sometimes turn away. Dolly saw both young boys and girls doing this during her first hours on the Strip, and it didn't take any more imagination than she had to understand what was happening. The rich here were apparently ready and willing to pay for young pussy and cock. That thought made her smile to herself, although her stomach was growling with hunger.
There amidst the neon squalor of Hollywood Boulevard, Dolly had her first brush with good luck; she met Robbie and Ted. The two were barely 17 themselves and had run away from homes back in Boston the year before to make their mark as singer/songwriters. They had come to LA and while they had made no headway toward realizing their dreams, they had become adept at living on the streets.
Don't sweat it kid, we'll help ya, short and stocky Ted told Dolly. Robbie, who was about six inches taller and sported a shaved pate, nodded in agreement. We don't sell out asses, we steal.
And help her they did. They took her to an abandoned office building on Crenshaw, the place where they crashed at night. Back in a room in the corner, they had sleeping bags, a Coleman lantern and a food supply that would have outfitted a good sized mission. They fed her from their larder and then introduced her to marijuana. She found the smoke ragged and difficult to hold down, but liked the way it made her feel. And then Ted told her he was off to get her some new duds. He returned about an hour and a half later with two clothes baskets full of stuff.
Laundromat, he explained. The girl looked about your size. . .not as pretty, though.
The clothes fit almost perfectly. Dolly was beside herself with happiness. She'd never had nice things like that. She knew only one way to repay the boys for their kindness.
"Hey, wow, it's like, you don't have to do that, ya know," said Ted, a little alarmed at her brazen offer. "I mean, we're not like rapists or anything, ya know."
Robbie nodded, but looked somewhat less put off than Ted, as though Dolly's idea wasn't all that bad.
"I want you to!" she told them. "Don't I make you hot?"
"Oh hell yeah!" said Ted. "But I don't wancha thinkin' you 'owe' us somethin', 'cause ya don't, OK?"
Once Dolly had stripped and was on her knees on the sleeping bag, the boys lost all trepidation. Soon, Robbie was behind her slamming a very long penis into her tight cunt, while Ted lay on the floor under her, his stubby cock throbbing inside her mouth. Rubbing his balls and bobbing her head, she got him off in just seconds. He lay squirming and moaning, holding her by the cheeks and directing her head up and down on his dying member.
Later, they switched positions and did it again. It was the first of many such episodes Dolly shared with the two young men who had been her savior during her first day in the Promised Land, and for the three weeks she spent with them on the streets and in the abandoned building at night, learning to become streetwise herself.
And then she met Stony Braxton and her life changed forever.
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