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One born every minute? It begins to look that way. Another teenie arrives with more curiosity than good sense, more than will prove good for her. She's introduced to the table with all the toys, cuffs, paddles, ropes, dildo . . . [she's never seen one that big before!] Then the big X-cross that her friends told her about. The wood is so silky to the touch, just like the inside of her thighs, such that the sensation is almost erotic. She stands next to it, feels the smoothness of it, the solidity, notices the chains and hooks up at top, guessing what they're for . . . She doesn't mind when the big guy tells her, tells her, mind you, not asks, to take off all her clothes; all of them, panties as well. She doesn't mind; she enjoys showing off her neat butt. He makes her sit down and wait, until returning with a huge erection. No, she's not seen one that big before either. This time she doesn't need to be told anything and, after admiring the phallus for a minute or two, she slides it deep into her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat. That big cross dominates the scene for her, especially when she has to sit on him and take a long length of cock into her lithe, teen body. He fills her cunt. The fun seems to be spoiled when at last she has to meet the cross, stand with her back against it, then with arms upstretched, be tied to it. What next, she ponders? So obvious really; he lifts her right leg over his arm and shoves his dick up her ass. If only she'd known? Probably still have come anyway . . .
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