In a few seconds the old man's trousers fell to the floor. A moment later Heather was pushing his underwear down his thighs. His cock hung limply, still in shock, but the young girl was delighted to see it. It was huge. Almost as fat as his arm, maybe even thicker, even though it was still soft. It looked so strange hanging from such a small man. "Oh, Mr. Mascalla! It's lovely! You have such a beautiful prick. No wonder you have such fine children. Oh, if only I'd known I would have done this long ago. Why didn't you tell me Oh, if only you knew how much I love cocks like yours!" She knelt quickly on the floor in front of the little man, took his cock in her hands, and planted a big smacking kiss right on its head. "Oh no! Oh Miss Heather. Don't, please! No. Not good. Not right. Is a sin." Never had anything like this ever happened to him. It was unnatural, it was sick, the very idea of kissing a cazzo. Only putanas did that. He couldn't let this little girl do such an awful thing, even if it did send a surge of excitement through his frail body. But Heather paid him no attention. She wrapped her young lips around his swelling cock-head and, under her expert oral ministrations, his enormous organ slowly began to swell even larger. She paused from time to time to whisper her admiration and to talk about the children he had made with it. That seemed to stimulate something deep inside him, for she felt his cock jerk and throb each time she spoke, and it was always a little harder and a little bigger when she took it back in her mouth again. Heather couldn't wait any longer. The itch in her pussy was turning into an unbearable ache. She just had to have this wonderful prick inside her. With her hands tightly locked around the shaft of the janitor's now almost gigantic cock, she pulled him with her as she moved backwards towards the piles of garbage bags. "Come here! Please, Mr. Mascalla. Put your big cock in me like you used to put it in your wife, like your son is doing to his wife now. I want you to do it so much, Mr. Mascalla. Please give me your cock." She fell back onto the mattress of garbage bags, pulling his frail body with her. His pants were still around his ankles and he tripped and fell on top of her. Heather groaned as his giant club slammed against her belly while his face landed on the tender mass of her tits. She quickly reached down with one hand to position his great tool where it would do the most good for her, while her other arm wrapped around his neck, pressing his face into her breast. When his cockhead was positioned at the mouth of her hungry pussy, it seemed to sink right in, slowly and naturally, with no effort on his part. In a moment Heather felt it buried deep within her and she sighed in glorious contentment. She hadn't had a cock in her pussy since her Chemistry teacher had fucked her in the lab store-room at lunch time. She lifted her legs and pulled the janitor's long cock even further into her, squeezing his throbbing shaft with her caressing cunt muscles. Then she whispered in his ear. "Love me now, Mr. Mascalla. Love me with your prick. Fuck me with your big cock!" Something inside the little man's mind snapped, some bond of restraint. Suddenly he was once more the young peasant who had wooed and won the prettiest girl in his village. With a groan of anguished pleasure he pulled back and began to drive his great pole into Heather's welcoming cunt, sinking right to the balls each time. His energy and strength amazed the young girl, and she exploded into climax after climax as he pounded his prick into her. He was muttering in Italian as his giant cock spoke to her happy pussy in the international language of fucking. Finally, with a strangled cry he slammed deep inside her and began to spurt great jets of come into her belly, deep, so deep that she thought it would mix with Mr. Thompson's juices still glowing warmly at the pit of her stomach. Then the old man collapsed on top of her, panting and sobbing into her sweaty tits. Heather held him gently until his breathing calmed, murmuring her appreciation in his ear. "Oh you wonderful man! That was so nice! Your cock filled me up so good. Now that I know how good you are I just want to do it over and over again with you. I hope you'll let me, Mr. Mascalla." The bewildered janitor could say nothing. Heather gently rolled him off of her and, as she always did, bent to lick his shrinking cock, cleaning up their mingled juices and greedily sucking up the last few drops of jism that still oozed from its tip. "Miss Heather, I..." "No, don't say anything, Mr. Mascalla. It was wonderful. You did me such a big favour. I hope it was as nice for you." She rose to her feet, naked, free, and lovely in the dim light of the boiler-room. The old man watched her in bewildered admiration as she dressed. As she started to pull on her panties, she had second thoughts. They would only get in the way, she said to herself. For a long time her mother had been surprised at how quickly Heather's panties seemed to disappear from the lingerie drawer. Whenever she could, Heather liked to go without them, and she didn't always remember to stuff them into her purse or pocket when she took them off. And often she liked to leave them behind as souvenirs. This she did now, draping them over Mr. Mascalla's lovely prick before she kissed him good-bye and hurried away. She would be back again soon to see this dear little old man with the big prick, but now she was looking for other adventures before she had to be home for supper. Heather reminded herself to stop at Pop MacIntosh's variety store before he closed. Pop carried everything in his cluttered store, including some lingerie. Heather had an agreement with him to supply her with panties whenever she needed them to appease her mother's curiosity. Pop had even ordered in a whole gross of Heather's brand of panties especially for her, but they were fast disappearing. While a happy and satisfied Heather climbed the stairs from the cellar she heard voices in the hallway above. "Just look at that broom lying there, Thompson. Marcella's gone off and just dropped everything. I almost killed myself on the damn thing. Have you seen him anywhere" "The janitor No, I haven't. He must be downstairs." ...

CLICK HERE TO SEE MORE...