Thinking about them, Wanda looked over at the clock on the night stand. Usually when their father was gone, she was a little more lenient, but for the past two nights, they had taken that for granted. They were already over an hour late.

She really didn't think they could get into much trouble out here in the country, but it was the principle of the thing. Besides that, she really didn't care much for that girl they had been hanging around with. She wore too much makeup, and her clothes were just too revealing for a girl her age.

Stop worrying, she told herself. You'll just get yourself in a stew. Besides, you'd better do something about that itch in your cunt, or you'll never get any sleep.

Slowly, Wanda began diddling her pussy, her mind still playing with the memory of Stan's thick, pulsating cock. And with each stroke of her fingers, she felt her cunt lips grow more slippery.

"Fuck me," she whispered, squirming her ass around on the smooth sheets. "Yes, Stan – just like that. Stick your big cock up my hot, little cunt, and fuck me full of cum."

Slowly, agonizingly, she was heading for a climax, and her body was tensing. At last, when the pleasure began peaking, she rolled onto her stomach and began jerking her ass up and down, driving her cunt down around her outstretched fingers.

"Yes, God, yes," she whispered into the pillow. "All the way inside me, baby. Fuck me hard… as hard as you can!"

At last, when her climax subsided to a dull throb, Wanda rolled to her side and again looked at the clock. Her own frustration made her even angrier with Mike and Jimmy.

"Where are you, you little bastards?" she asked the empty room as she slipped off the side of the bed.

She was about to flick on the overhead light when she saw that the truck was parked out back. She walked over to the window, a perplexed expression on her face. She hadn't heard them drive up, and yet they must be home.