Pam and the Drill

"Do you wanna eat me now?"

"What?" Pam said.

The doorbell rang. Debbie sat up quickly, closing her legs.

"Oh shit. Who the hell is that?"

Pam shrugged. Debbie jumped off the bed and grabbed an oversize football jersey from the dresser drawer.

"You wait here. I'll get rid of whoever it is," Debbie said. She stepped through the door and pulled it shut.

Pam held her breath, trying to hear through the door. She heard voices, but not clearly enough to understand what they were saying. They were quiet a long time, then the door opened and Debbie came back in. Her face was flushed. She leaned back against the door, looking around the room. She grabbed the math book and stuffed it in Pam's hands.

"I'm real sorry, Pam," Debbie said. She picked up Pam's clothes and shoved them at her. "It's Dale. I've been waiting to see him all week." She paused and giggled. "He wants to fuck me. You don't mind, do you? I'll call you later. Maybe we'll talk about guys again."

Pam dressed while she talked. She wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what to say. Debbie practically pushed Pam through the living room past Dale, who waved, and out the front door.

"Call you later. Bye," Debbie said, and slammed the door.

Pam stood on the front porch, holding her old panties and bra and the math book, trying to figure out what just happened. A couple of boys rode by on their bikes, looked at her once, and kept going.

Pam walked home, still in a daze. She stuffed her panties in her pocket, but folded the bra and carried it under the math book. Two or three times she looked back at Debbie's house, trying to imagine her doing it with Dale, until the house was out of sight.

Debbie's light blue panties and bra felt odd under her clothes. They weren't loose and bulky like the underwear Mom made her wear, but were a bit snug, especially on her crotch, and the bra pushed her breasts up. When she walked, her jeans and her blouse seemed to glide over the smooth, delicate fabric. Her skin tingled. Her insides felt warm and moist. She couldn't wait to get home so she could take off her clothes and look at herself in the mirror.

The house was empty when she got home. She threw the math book on the kitchen table and ran upstairs. Mom had a full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. She looked at herself in it and smiled. Through her clothes, she could already see the difference. Her breasts stuck out more under the blouse, and she could make out the lines of the panties under her jeans. The thought that she walked all the way home and people, especially boys, might have seen her like that made her shiver.

She ran her hands down her body from her chest to her hips, feeling how her body curved. Her hands came together between her legs and pressed on her warm mound. She moaned. Her legs became weak and she fell back on Mom's bed. God, she wished a guy would come over to fuck her.

She touched the back of her hand to her forehead. She was very warm, burning up all over. The tingling between her legs wouldn't stop. She had to do something about it, right away. But with what?

She looked on Mom's dresser. Her brush had a round handle, but it was thin. That wouldn't do. Her own brush had a flat handle. She clenched her jaws and squeezed her legs together. Mrs. Thorn's rubber thingie would be perfect, but she couldn't just go over there and ask to use it. Mr. Thorn would be even better, but she couldn't ask to use him, either.

Pam went through the house, looking for something, anything, to fuck herself with, anything that looked like a boy's thing. In the kitchen, she went through all the cupboards and drawers. One of Mom's knives had a handle with a rounded end, but she didn't like the idea of putting a knife so close to her special place.

Next, she checked the pantry closet, where Mom kept all the cleaning stuff. Some of the brushes had long handles, but the mop caught her eye. She took it out of the closet, running her hand over the rounded end. It was thick enough, and definitely long enough. She sat on the stool and held it to her groin, rubbing her warm area through her jeans.

She put it back in the closet and flopped into the arm chair in the living room. Her pussy buzzed, and she was still warm all over. She wanted something hard inside her, something warm and hard, something with a body she could wrap her legs around. Debbie had that, why couldn't she?

Ethan had it, too, just what she needed, hanging between his legs. If he was there, she'd ask him, no she would tell him she needed him to do it to her.

She jumped up and ran out to the garage. If Ethan couldn't be there himself, she could use something else he might have. She opened each drawer of his tool chest. Maybe he had a hammer with a long handle or a ...

She stopped suddenly, staring into the bottom drawer. Her mouth fell open.

"Oh my God," she said. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was awesome. She lifted it out of the drawer, cradling it in her hands like a new baby.

It must have been an electric screwdriver or drill or something, because of the twisty mechanical thing at the end and the button. But it was the rest of the tool that excited her. The body was made of smooth, yellow plastic in a long, thick tube shape with a rounded end and a bend in the middle. Her mouth watered. It was enormous, just like Ethan's real thing, and it was thick and heavy, just like Ethan's.

She shoved the tool chest shut and rushed back into the house, holding the tool with both hands. She ran straight up to her room, dropped the tool on the bed, and stripped out of her clothes.

She was panting and her whole body trembled. Her pussy was still warm and wet, maybe wetter than before. She pushed the light blue panties down, sat on her bed and picked up the tool. It was incredibly huge in her hands. She couldn't believe she was really going to do this. She must have been crazy. The tool was far too big for her.

Pam propped her pillows against the headboard, lay back and spread her legs. She fondled the rounded end of the tool, licking her lips. She only wished Debbie was there to do this to her, like she did to Debbie. Maybe next time, if there was a next time.

She pulled her pussy lips apart and pushed her middle finger in. God, she was so wet. Maybe the tool would go in easily.

She lined it up with her hole with one hand, holding her lips spread with her other. The cold tip touched her opening and she gasped. It was nothing like the real thing, or even like Mrs. Thorn's rubber one, but it would have to do.

She pushed gently and squealed. She was panting harder. That hurt as much as the first time Todd tried to put his in. Maybe she couldn't do it. She rubbed the plastic tip over her wet slit. Her hips rocked up and down and she licked her lips, clenched her jaws, and pushed harder.

Pain shot through her body, but she kept pushing until the pain got to be too much and she quit. She barely got the tip of the tool inside her. How was she supposed to get the rest in if it hurt too much? She rubbed her fingers across her wet slit and bit her lower lip. The tingling was too strong. It didn't matter how much it hurt, if she was ever going to relax, she had to get that thing inside her.

Her chest rose and fell with heavy, deep breaths, straining her breasts against the tight bra. She looked at the long, thick, heavy tool in her hand. It was more than just getting herself off, though. If she ever wanted Ethan to love her, she had to be able to take his thing. One day he might ask her to love him. If she wasn't ready, he might not ask her again. What was it Debbie said about boys with big dicks? She couldn't remember, but it was something good. And Ethan had a very big dick. She had to know how good it felt.

Pam took a deep breath and resolved to try it again. She lined the tool up with her pussy again, pushing the cold, hard tip against her wet, pink opening. The pain was sharp and stinging. She winced, squeezing her eyes closed, and whimpered, but she pushed.

"Ow ... ow ... ow," she moaned. Her pussy lips spread wide, until she felt the tool sliding into her. She held it there, panting, and looked down.

It really was inside her, about an inch or so. Her pussy stretched around it. She smiled. It didn't hurt so much, now that it was in. She settled back again, raised her butt a little higher, and slowly worked the tool a little deeper into her body.

"Mmm ... Mmm." It was working. She could feel it pushing deeper, and the pain wasn't nearly as intense. She adjusted her grip, pushed harder, and groaned. She let go. It stayed. About half the handle was lodged inside her. She pressed her fingers on her lower belly and felt the hard lump through her muscles and skin. She squeezed the handle again, just above the bend, and worked it slowly in and out. Her pussy made a light squishing sound.

"Uhn, yes ... Uhn, yes," she said, muttering softly. She was fucking herself. It wasn't the same as with a real man, but it was ok for right then.

She closed her eyes, licked her lips, and rubbed her free hand over her belly, up to her breasts, pretending she had a man's body on top of her's and between her legs. Her breathing was slow and heavy. Her hips heaved up when she pushed the tool in, and sunk back to the mattress when she pulled it back out a bit. The only thing that could make it better would be if she could feel a man's warm cream spilling inside her, like Ethan's or Todd's, flowing over her hot skin and collecting in pockets on her breasts and in her belly button, oozing from between the lips of her ...

She heard a quiet cough and her eyes snapped open. Ethan stood over her, with an amused look on his face. Pam screamed and rolled on her side, squeezing her legs together. The tool slipped another inch or two into her pussy, past the bend, forcing the tip of the handle sideways deep in her body. She tried to pull the blanket over her, but she was on top of it and it refused to move.

"What are you doing?" Ethan said.

"Nothing. Leave me alone. Get the hell out of here," she shouted. She was sure he could see the yellow tool sticking out between the cheeks of her ass, but she didn't care. Finally, the blanket came loose and she pulled it over herself.

"Why don't you go away?" she said. He was grinning. She noticed a huge bulge in the front of his jeans.

"What are you wearing?" Ethan said, pointing.

Pam froze. "Nothing."

"Where'd you get that bra?"

Pam's face burned. "None of your business. Get out of here," she said, screaming the last part as loud as she could.

Ethan didn't move. She swung at him with the back of her hand and hit him in the hip. The tool jammed itself another inch deeper, rubbing the inner wall of her channel. Her orgasm pounded her suddenly. Pam gasped. Her body convulsed, throwing the blanket partly off her backside, exposing her ass again. She clamped her hand over her mouth and tried to muffle her moans. The rest of her body jerked over and over. There was no way he could miss that.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Ethan said.

Pam shook her head. Her moans were too difficult to contain and leaked out between her fingers. Colored lights flashed behind her closed eyelids and the world seemed to stop for a long time. She tried to hold her breath, but she was breathing too hard. She opened her eyes a crack and saw Ethan still standing over her.

"I was looking for that drill," he said. "I need it to finish Mom's flower box, but if you're using it ..."

Pam glared, but he didn't seem to notice. She reached between her legs. She had to spread them to get the drill out, and her left leg stuck out from under the blanket. She pulled. The tool came out slowly. She whimpered. It finally emerged with a wet pop.

"Here," she said. As he took it, she glanced again at his jeans. His long bulge stretched down the front.

"It's wet," Ethan said.

"Sorry." She rolled over, hugging the blanket over her naked body, and looked straight up to his eyes. She wanted to ask him to take off his jeans, to take out his thing and love her with it, but something stopped her. Instead, the words came out, "Now will you leave, please?"

"All right. Jesus, don't have a fit." Ethan turned and walked out of her room.

Pam sat up, her mouth open as if to plead with him to come back, but he was already gone. She fell back and pulled the blanket over her head, curling into a ball.

What the hell was wrong with her? She wanted him to love her so badly, so why did she suddenly think it was so wrong? That was her chance, her one chance to get Ethan into her bed, and she blew it.