Pin Camel Toe

====================

Another story in the Dick and Jane occasional collection. The stories are fiction but I hope reflect some universal truth. Best read in sequence. All characters over 18.

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Dick and John go on the hunt, get more than they bargain for, and take home the prize.

====================

We're on our usual bench in the side hall close to the food court. A good vantage for hunting.

"Hey, John, incoming Dick alert: Two o'clock--30 feet--water fountain--pink camel toe--rear view--presenting--nubile--strong mating pheromones."

Up top, John turns his head slowly on his bull-neck. He doesn't want to draw attention. His eye's rise gradually, drift, focus. No sudden movements.

"Oh! My! God!" he mutters, and I stiffen, immediately, hard as a rock. He twists to adjust his crotch and give me room.

A message from John arrives,

"Hey, Dick, situational assessment follows: By herself--over 18--barely--tucking hair behind ear as she drinks--now stroking her rump absent-mindedly--slight ass wiggle--no one else around--I think she'll struggle--perhaps more than a little--enough to make me pleasantly dominant--and her terrified--then happy as she takes my cock."

Now he's starting to fantasize, or is it strategize. At first the two are indistinguishable, but as I wait his fantasy becomes plan, then plan becomes action. He decides on the

big

storage room with the soft furnishings and hidden corners. It's his favorite and he has his duplicate key from Jack, head of Mall Security. He and Jack have been a team for years.

John's eyes are locked on the target, though he keeps his dark glasses on and newspaper up. First in his imagination and now in fact, he's rising, folding his paper, walking forward so very casually. Practiced. Experienced. Dopamine floods our system. We're intent on our goal. Pink camel toe.

I just hope John can think rationally and not pay too much attention to me. Sometimes he can't handle erection stress and screws up. Then neither of us gets to screw.

But there's not much I can do. It's in John's hands for now. All I can think is,

"Just hold on, John, till we have her in hand, under control and on her back. Then leave the rest to me. I'll be up her like a rat up a drain pipe, no matter how much she fights and squeals,"

"We're moving. Keep moving. Slowly does it, John. We can do this!"

, is what I'm straining to send to his easily distracted brain.

We're advancing stealthily on our prey. Perfect size, sexy top, tight pink shorts, presenting, long hair which I already imagine swinging rhythmically over her face as we mount and breed her. Hell, her mating scent is so strong she might very well conceive this first time, like that bit behind the gym last year.

By now we must be in her peripheral vision. If she wasn't in

estrus

she'd be skittish. Instead, she's still smoothing up the back of her thigh to her rump and sliding a finger under the hem of her pink shorts--a knuckle length from her camel toe--as her other hand tucks her hair back. Even a one-eyed Dick can see the signals.

***

As he strolls forward, John sees them coming fast from the far end of the mall. Three teens, acne, pushing and jostling each other and any passers by who get too close. John sees the tattooed one catch sight of Pink Camel Toe and do a double take. He digs mousey beard on his left in the ribs, and gestures with his chin. Mousey beard punches four eyes, and now all three are staring at Pink Camel Toe.

John was a teen once--in fact he still thinks like one--so he knows what's going through these three tortured teens' minds. He imagines their sudden erections poking down their pant legs. He sees their makeshift plan form, though it's so naive and immature it's barely a plan. They are going to jump her as a group, though they won't know what to do when they have her. They'd just scare her and she'd be gone from the waterhole.

John knows he has to act fast. He straightens up and lengthens his stride--he still looks like he's moving casually but in fact he's now closing the distance rapidly.

He's within two strides of Pink Camel Toe--still oblivious, bent, drinking from the fountain, signaling

estrus

--when the three funhouse lads start their charge. What happens next is a blur in the moment, reconstructed later.

John launches forward, all arms and legs and big brutal bulk, seeking to block access to his claim. He covers her from behind, bends over her back, his arms and hands going down each side in support, protection and possession.

The funhouse lads, crash into him, colliding with his broad back and each other. This doesn't bother John--he's fought off much bigger assaults in the past--but their combined momentum drives him down and into Pink Camel Toe.

She takes the full weight of his sudden mounting and goes forward on her elbows while simultaneously straightening her legs to brace. These instinctual movements combine to dip her back, raise her ass, and position her camel toe to receive incoming, and incoming is me--all shaft, glans and one-eyed blind enthusiasm.

John now has to reset his own stance to prevent the whole lot crashing to the floor, and he grabs at anything he can. In so doing one hand finds a lovely tit swinging free, and his face pushes against the side of the young gazelle's neck. At this point he comes to a complete stop with Pink Camel Toe beneath him, and the funhouse lads sprawled on the floor around them.

He has won the prize.

***

A moment of peace--a split second interlude--now falls on John, Pink Camel Toe and the three horny stooges.

John manages to send off an emergency status message to me and the rest of our body, something to the effect of,

"Whoa... nobody move... I'm not sure what's happened but... I've got to remember this moment... if I just move my lips I'm kissing her left ear... if I breathe in I'm inhaling the scent of her hair... my fingers are palpating her delightful mound of soft jelly tit in my left hand... and my big hairy belly's fitting snuggly in her dipped back, trapping her against the top of the water fountain... and most of all Dick's cock-head is lodged in her pink camel toe."

We all hold still while he files away these delightful memories and sensations. They'll be useful later. Even the funhouse lads on the floor hold their peace.

I manage to fire off a message,

"Dick to John, message follows: Hey John, Jesus, you big lummox, did I feel you just hump her? Are you trying to push me in? You've only just met! I can't take you out!"

***

The commotion now starts up again, like a music record on a turntable coming up to speed.

"What the fuck...," yells Pink Camel Toe. "Get off me!"

"I can explain," says John hastily, as he scrambles off her, enjoying two handfuls of firm ass as he pushes back from her nubile rump. "I was walking by and I saw these clowns about to jump you." He's now gesturing wildly at the three disheveled bodies on the floor, but not so wildly that he can't help connecting his fist with the side of Tattoo's head, and side-swiping Mousey with a boot. Four-Eyes is out of reach but John manages to step on his glasses.

"Ow!" says Tattoo as he holds his upper lip gently, "You fucking broke my tooth!"

"Language!" said John, "You should know better than to swear in front of a lady. Didn't your mother and father teach you that?" His fist connects again.

Pink Camel Toe is slowly taking in the scene and realizing she just came within a hair's breadth of a terrible assault by the three louts. They are ineffectual against John, but she wouldn't have stood a chance by herself. She'd seen them earlier when they gestured rudely--finger-in-hole motions--and yelled obscenities at her. They must be regulars in the mall. She's just arrived in town from college to spend the summer with her dad--she's been living a protected life with her mom--and she makes a note to tell her dad they're trouble makers. He's Head of Security.

She looks up at John, his graying hair, massive chest, dark glasses, still hovering over her. She has a moment of confusion when it feels there's nothing wrong with the picture. She feels so comforted, held, protected. If he wants to, he could just lower his bulk on her again and... her legs ease apart... her pubes swell... her ass lifts... her cunt oozes...

She shakes her head to clear this strange thought, but it refuses to fade. It is now firmly lodged where her mind's eye can't look away.

To no one in particular, she says, "Oh shit, that was close. I don't know what would have happened. I hate to think."

A pause. Then she starts to tremble as she finds she cannot not think. She finds her mind--like her body--has a mind of it's own.

"Thank you so much!"

This last to the heavy gray man still hovering over as she bends forward on her elbows. She is surprised to find herself thinking,

"What a lovely smell! I could take a lot more of him. If I stay still maybe he'll stay right there, above and behind me. I can still feel his cock. All this adrenaline is making me horny. I'm glad my period was two weeks ago."

John must be feeling the same too, because he begins to lower himself again and starts to hump. But he catches himself and realizes this is not the place to continue the game.

He suddenly straightens. Pink Camel Toe moans, and mutters, "Fuck!"

John says to the three stooges, "Now piss off, and if I ever see you in the mall again I'll call Security, and they'll call the cops."

The side hall is suddenly very empty and quiet. John and Pink Camel Toe are the only people in sight, and now very aware of each other's scent.

John says, "I'm sorry about that, but I saw they were about to jump you and I just acted. You needed protecting. And now you're starting to shake. I think shock is setting in. Here, let me help you. I know just the place you can rest."

At that he half carries her trembling to the blind end of the side hall they are in. At the end is the door to the store room he's used for years, thanks to Jack's duplicate key. They both know what goes on behind those doors, where Jack often joins the entertainment if John grants permission.

***

John unlocks the door, bundles her in, and hears it click securely and satisfyingly behind him. At last he can relax. It's filled with soft furnishings. Beds, couches, sheets, quilts, pillows. His familiar and much used secret hideaway in the mall. Only he and Jack know about it.

John lays Pink Camel Toe on his favorite bed hidden at the back of the large room. She is now shaking heavily from shock, so he pulls the blankets over and slides in with her. He holds her tightly. His first impressions from a distance are now confirmed--she is as tender and tiny and soft as he thought, and she clings close.

Over the next half hour John just holds her, willing her to stillness and quiet. Her wracked convulsions, driven by overflowing adrenaline and overwrought thoughts, gradually ease. They come sporadically when her imagination of what could have been brings horrific thoughts unbidden. But after each mini meltdown she calms a little more, and gradually melts into the warm and protective embrace of this bear of a man, holding her close, swathed in male scent, crooning to her. With each murmur from his massive chest she sinks deeper and deeper into tranquility.

Finally she is there. Lying still, her tiny soft frame curled against his belly, her cheek on his chest, enveloped in the quietness that has been evading her. She feels warm, protected, at home. She looks up at John, and he looks down at the nymph in his arms. She is warm with young secrets and scent, and he realizes he wants to unwrap this gift resting against his belly. She must be having similar thoughts, as the heady scent of female arousal floods the room.

He feels me getting hard again, and I send a message to his brain,

"To John from Dick, message reads: Hell, I'm sorry. I'm not an angel. You've got this delightful tender piece of tail in our arms, in bed, just recovered--just recovered from the tension and tremors of fear and of finding herself suddenly mounted by a 250 pound hulk. On top of which she is in peak estrus. So of course she's as horny as hell and I'm as horny as hell too. Just put your bloody hand on her tit, and she'll be done for."

John does so. In fact he puts one hand on her tit, and uses the other to draw her head to him where he kisses her so deeply she wonders where he's been all her young life.

He's not sure he will ever let her go. Hell, he only wanted to take her this once, preferably by force, but now realizes something has shifted.

He forces himself to break the kiss so he can undress her. He is gentle. He removes and folds her clothes. He slips off the necklace she gave herself for her eighteenth birthday last week, the rings from her mother on her sixteenth, and the friendship bracelet from her father on her thirteenth. The last time she was this naked she was twelve, and is now curled around his belly with all the combined shyness and prescience of a twelve year old.

Now he strips us and folds our clothes beside hers. This releases my shaft to stick straight up at 45 degrees. She looks at me sidelong through hooded eyes as he returns to bed. He takes her naked waiting body in his arms, pressing me against her soft tummy. She curls in again and sighs, savoring his hairy torso against her soft breasts, stiff nipples, warm pussy, quivering belly and clit, and the moisture between her legs

He has won and claimed her. She is won and claimed. Owned. Forever. His.

***

She is virgin. As innocent as dawn. He is experienced, as knowing as noon. There is blood, a cry of pain, a sudden clasp of arms, legs, tongue and cunt. A taking. A yielding. And then the climb to a world she is visiting for the first time, guided by John and me. God, she's tight, and John and I have to force me in. We time it right and when she cums she clamps hard around my shaft--the base note of her body's response--while her internal muscles flutter tremulously around my cock-head to play the melody.

When I deposit seed in her the first time ever in her young life, she feels me pause, swell and pump. She feels the warming glow. She spreads her legs wider and accepts her future, moaning and ecstatic. We are now bound together, she and me, and somehow she knows it. And, oh yes, John too, of course.

***

John keeps her in bed for the rest of the day. He introduces her to her new life--his pleasure and will. And he learns about her--her scent, taste, obedience and sexual promise.

He inspects his new property in minutest detail, sitting for hours with me curled languidly in his lap, watching her naked form lying against him. She is delicate, tiny, smooth and young. Her hips flare infinitesimally, foreshadowing future baby breeding, later when she's fully mature. Breasts are still coming into their own. Sparse downy fluff sprinkling her crotch and armpits.

Her pubes are a work of art in themselves. Yet innocent, dainty, slender, lips not yet stretched, pressed close together as her central crease disappears shyly between smooth thighs. Innocent and virgin before today.

He tours her body. He inspects her aureoles, breasts and nipples, her freckles on slender upper arms, the dimples on her cheeks and high up her inner thighs beside her pussy. He watches her belly button rise and settle slowly as her--now his--belly swells with each breath. He explores her mouth with his tongue and parts her lips for deep finger inspection, noting the exact depth at which the gag reflex erupts.

He spreads her legs and inspects her hidden folds, now his. Hidden for him, and from all except him. He counts the darling little ripples in her--now his--

labia minora

peaking from her--now his--tight

labia majora

.

He notes how the inner lips blush, expand, protrude and moisten as he toys with them. And then how they protrude as wanton and wet as petals in a shower of rain when he smears the moisture around her clit and entices it from it's hood.

He tastes her untrammeled star, her warm tight winkle, her

en garde

sphincter. He notes it wink when he presses an insistent finger, but he postpones full penetration till she least expects it.

He inspects her--now our--tight little vagina with his fingers, lips and tongue. He savors the different flavors depending where he licks for cream--nutty, sweet, tart or savory. He delights when her cunt clamps tightly around his intruding finger as she cums. He feels her cum on his mouth as he thrusts his tongue in, and sucks on her clit.

He gently corrects her when, in moments of reverie, she shyly covers her crotch and breasts. "You mustn't do that, my sweet little darling. What's yours is mine, and I have full access. I'll do what I want and you'll enjoy it, whether you like it or not."

Then he removes her hands if she has not.

***

She is tired and dozes intermittently through the afternoon. John usually lets her sleep--it doesn't interfere which his exploration of her body--but periodically our testicles refill and demand attention. When that happens I stiffen and rise.

Then John looks down on his nymph property and chooses from the smorgasbord she presents. If she demurs, he simply brushes aside her hands and objections, holds her wrists above her heady, and enters his property without permission.

Sometimes she resists strongly, but John and I just enjoy her more when she squirms against our big hairy belly.

Of course, he doesn't need permission. She's his property, and besides he always brings her to orgasm. He likes feeling her cunt spasm around my shaft as I pump in our seed. And finally, she is now in training and learning she must always rise to the occasion.

By evening she knows she has no choice but to do what we want. This is now her place.

***

After many hours, the murmur of evening shoppers grows in the mall beyond the walls. John dresses and leaves the storage room, dead bolting the door behind him. He walks casually to the mall's young female fashion section and buys a selection of clothes and toiletries--day-wear, evening-wear, night-wear, under-wear, toothbrush, deodorant, makeup, tampons, etc. She's about to start her life afresh.

The next stop is for food. John is as hungry as a well hung horse and gets three double burgers and a cola. For her he gets a meal suitable for a young and active girl--fries, chicken nuggets, a milkshake.

He slips back down the side hall and re-enters the storage room, locking them in. She wakes as he lays out the food, and they eat ravenously.

He finishes before her, scoots back up the bed, leans against the headboard, and makes a phone call.

"Hey, Jack, I thought I'd tell you I have a new friend in the storage room. We met this morning, and we've been here all afternoon. Yes, of course I've locked us in so one can disturb us. I just thought you should know. We'll be here till morning. I'll text you when it's free.

"By the way, one more thing. The young lady is your daughter.

"Thank you. I appreciate the compliment."

***

We are exhausted and tomorrow will be a big day. John explains this to Pink Camel Toe. She listens to his plans, how tomorrow she's going to move in with us, that she'll meet her new sisters, and call her mom with the good news, and call her dad to tell him what to do with her old things.

John turns out the light and he, me and Pink Camel Toe all settle to sleep, which we do till morning.

When we wake, we're on our sides with John spooning her, I am erect, and her ass crack is nestled around my shaft. Without a word, John pushes her forward and she bends, presenting her ass. Ten minutes later she moans and clamps me tightly as I pump in fresh seed. We make a good team.