Daddy's slut girl(31)

Cindy wasn't too happy about that. She'd already decided she liked fast, hard fucking the best. But the way Pancho screwed her, with very slow deep strokes that made her moan and cream furiously, turned out to be pretty exciting after all. It made her tremendously horny, made her hungry little cunt flood and burn with need, but every time she urged him to fuck faster, harder, he only laughed and continued his delicious deep slow thrusts.

After half an hour of this sweet torture, Cindy was writhing on the impalement of his cock and moaning hoarsely. She needed to come so badly, she could have screamed, but Pancho's slow, dreamy fuck-strokes brought her only to the edge of climax, no further. It felt fantastic to go on so long, but now her need was urgent.

"Ohhhh, please, please," she whimpered, "bring me off, Pancho. Screw me just a little harder, a little faster, p-p-please… I just have to come."

"You rush things too much, baby," he sighed. "You gotta learn to slow down. Too many people are hurryin' around in this world, bustin' a gut for nothing. You gotta learn the new way of life."

But Cindy was in no mood for a lecture on the virtues of hippie life. She just wanted to get fucked, and fucked hard. Moaning with horny impatience, she began to work her pussy furiously around the hard stalk of his prick, signaling her desperate need.

Pancho chuckled. "Okay, baby, you got it," he said. "Some other time we'll make it last."

He began to fuck her in quick hard short strokes, and Cindy shrieked with pleasure. This was what she'd been craving, the rough hot friction that quickly buzzed her hungry little cunt into a body-shaking orgasm.

"Eeeee!" she shrieked. "Yes! Yesss! I'm coming! Aaahhhh!"

Pancho gasped when he felt her tight cunt gripping his meat, convulsing around his dick like a velvet vise. It was really too much to resist. He gasped blissfully and let himself go, filling her horny nipping little twat with steamy floods of his jism.

"Satisfied?" he laughed.

"Mmmmm!" replied Cindy.

They got on the road again, and by early evening they were coming into Los Angeles. Cindy's heart leaped. She was proud of herself – she'd made the long dangerous journey alone, and Pop hadn't caught her. She was very near the fulfillment of her dream, reunion   with her beautiful vanished mother.

She told Pancho her mother's address and asked if he could drop her off there, but he shook his head. "Cindy," he said, "you don't dig how big L.A. is. It's a lot bigger than New York. Your mother lives a good fifty miles from where we are now. I'll be glad to run you over there tomorrow, but right now I'm bushed. Why don't you crash at our place tonight, get plenty of rest and some clean clothes?"

Cindy was deeply disappointed, but she didn't protest. Pancho had been very kind to her, picking her up when no one else would, driving her all the way from Denver, and she could hardly ask him to go another fifty miles when he was ready to drop. "All right," she said.

Pancho lived in a ramshackle warehouse converted into a maze of lofts and workrooms, inhabited by six other hippies, men and women. Everyone was kind to Cindy but not effusive. They didn't pry into her life, nor did they volunteer any information about themselves. They all had nicknames, like Pancho. The men called themselves Pigpen, Speed, and Che. The women called themselves Evita, Rosa, and Star. They were all young, in their early twenties.

That evening they all sat on mats around a roaring wood-burning stove and smoked marijuana. Cindy got very high, very fast. She lost her sense of time, felt no urgency about finding her mother. Evita had given her a lovely caftan to wear, and she felt young and free and pretty. Nevertheless she was surprised and a little annoyed at something Pancho said.

"You know what?" he told the group. "Cindy's a fantastic lay."

Cindy blushed furiously, but the others only smiled and nodded approvingly. "I sure feel like it," said Rosa, a tall rangy redhead. "Anybody else up for a group grope?"

There were murmurs of assent, and then to Cindy's surprise they all started taking off their clothes. She knew what a "group grope" was, from gossip at school – she just wasn't sure that she wanted to take part in one. Somehow it didn't seem right to screw around in front of a whole group of people, to switch from one partner to another.

"Hey, come on, Cindy," said Speed. "Get with it."

Cindy just gawked at him. Star giggled and said, "She's stoned. We better help her."

Star and Rosa came over to Cindy and began to undress her. She was stoned. She found she had no energy to resist or protest. Dope made her languid, uncaring. It didn't dull her senses, though. She found herself gawking at the naked group of young people, at the jumble of cocks and balls and tits and pussies all fitfully illuminated by the flickering candles that lit the room.