The sexy blonde girl lay naked on the bed and whined to the man who stood over her.
"Not this morning. Please. I am very tired."
"You are tired because you were out all night fucking some high school boys," the man snarled.
"All right," she admitted. "I was out fucking, but-"
The man leaned over and slapped the girl's face.
"You are my daughter," he said. "You are my daughter and don't you forget that."
"I won't forget it," the daughter assured her father.
"If you can fuck those other boys, you can fuck me too."
And the girl knew that she could fuck her father too. She had fucked him often.
"All right," she said, surrendering to his will. "Just don't use the belt, Daddy. I will fuck you good if you just don't use the belt this morning. I don't think that I could stand it if-"
But it was too late. The daughter tensed her body when she realized that it was too late.
Her father's belt was already coming down on her naked flesh".
It hit her light-haired pussy with a smack and a shock of pain went through her.
And, even though she should have been used to it by then, she still screamed.
Chapter One
Doctor Blake got up on the morning on June 15 and decided not to go into the goddamn office this lovely morning. He was assistant coroner in Victory, Missouri, and he did not really have to go in when he did not want to. There was hardly enough murder in Victory to keep one coroner busy, and he was only the assistant, the one who got the killings and the strange deaths that occurred in the middle of the night.
He got the shit work in the office, he thought again.
And he became even more pissed off at himself because he was over forty years old and had been a top student in medical school and now he was dealing with the shit work in a fucking coroner's office.
Life had not been fair to Dr. Leo Blake, he thought.
When he woke up feeling this way, he knew that there was only one thing to do, one thing that would arouse his spirits in any way. He padded across his bedroom in his bare feet and looked at the clock. It was six-thirty in the morning. He knew that Kitty, his daughter, would still be asleep at that hour.
Kitty was sixteen years old and blonde and cuddly. She was the only pleasure that her father got in life.
Dr. Leo Blake pulled off his pajamas and touched his own cock. He thought about his daughter and he felt the cock begin to pulse. He knew that he would be able to give Kitty just the kind of treatment that she deserved that morning.
He moved out into the hallway and stood there naked for a few seconds and took several deep breaths.
No matter how many times he did this to Kitty, he thought, he was always excited and anxious about the prospect. His daughter was so sexy in the morning and she was the only thing that he had had for the past five years, since his wife had run off and left him for a college dance instructor, a guy that he had always considered to be a fucking fag.
And Kitty was so much like her mother, blonde with big, firm tits and that cute little mouth that just seemed to fit his cock, her father's cock.
And she was turning into a whore, just as her mother was a whore. She went out with boys and stayed out until dawn and she did things with them. Doctor Blake was sure of that. Kitty was too popular with the boys in town to be some kind of fucking virgin.
She could not be a virgin anyway, he reminded himself. He had taken her virginity himself, on the morning that he had awakened and found that silly, good-bye note from his whore wife. Doctor Blake liked to think of his wife on mornings such as this one. It helped him with Kitty when he was really and truly angry with her and all of her sex. That helped him to overcome the slight inhibitions that he still felt when he thought that, after all, she was his daughter, his only daughter. He stood there in the hallway naked and let the anger build up in him, let it rise to his head and knock out any doubts that he had about what he was going to do to that girl.
When the anger was boiling in him, Doctor Blake knew that he was ready to do it.
He walked confidently to his daughter's bedroom and opened the door silently and moved into the room. He stood there at the door and looked at her lying there in her bed.
Kitty was asleep, and she even slept like a young whore, he thought with disgust.
He knew that she was naked under that sheet and he could see the outlines of her legs there. She slept with her legs spread, slept on her back with her little, girlish arms thrown back over her blonde hair.
She slept quietly. That was one way in which she was not at all like her mother. Her mother, the original whore of Leo Blake's life, snored like a locomotive when she slept. He thought about her now, snoring in some dance instructor's ear while the guy lay awake in the bed and wished that he had been a fag, just like he was supposed to be.
Leo grinned when he thought of that strange and kinky and wonderfully funny vision. It would serve them both right for messing up Leo's life like they did, he thought. It would serve both his wife and that other man right.
But, at least, the doctor thought, his wife had left him with Kitty. At least she had done that much for him and he had started to use Kitty that very morning that his wife left. And he discovered that he liked it better with Kitty than he had ever liked it with his wife. Kitty was softer and more frightened. Even now, two years later, his daughter was still a little frightened whenever her father came into her room in the morning. You would think, Leo thought, that she would have gotten used to it by now. But she had not. She would let him have his way finally but there would always be those sweet, short seconds of fright, fear that showed in her blue eyes when she looked at her father standing naked over her, fear that turned into something else when she finally surrendered to her father's will like a good daughter should.
And Leo had to admit that it was that fear that he loved as much as anything else. As long as she feared him and then surrendered to him, he thought, he did not really care how much a whore she was with those other males, those high school boys she dated. She could do whatever she wanted with them as long as she did not forget her dear daddy.
Then Leo figured that he had waited long enough. He wanted that little bitch to wake up. He slammed her door and watched her jerk on the bed. She sat up and rubbed her eyes and then she saw him and that fear came into her blue eyes.
You would think that, by now, she would be used to it, he thought, but she wasn't.
She held the sheet over her ripe, firm tits and looked at her father with her eyes wide and she whimpered when she saw him standing naked there.
"Oh, Daddy, not today, please!- I am so tired."
"You are tired, you little whore," the loving father said, "because you stay out until dawn fucking boys and refuse to come home to your father."
Kitty did not say anything. She had been out fucking until dawn and she saw no reason to deny it. Her father was the one who had introduced her to fucking, so she figured that he had no right to tell her what was right and what was wrong. But she was beginning to really hate these mornings with her father. With boys, she had such fun and she was always cheerful when she fucked, cheerful and hot for cock. But, with her father, she never laughed, never made herself cheerful. She knew that he would hit her before he fucked her because he always did it that way. She got hot for cock, but it was not the same and she knew that what she did with her father was not right at all. She sat there on the bed and looked at him and sighed.
"Daddy," she said, almost scolding him with her tone, "you forgot your belt. Aren't you going to want to use your belt on me this morning?"
"Oh, yes," the man muttered. "My belt. That is right. My belt. I will be right back, Kitty. Don't go away. I will, be right back."
And then her father dashed out of the room like a silly, little man.
And Kitty almost wanted to cry because she knew that that was what he had become. He was nothing but a silly, little man now. But he had not always been that way, she thought.
There had been a time when her father had been the king of the house, when she had worshipped him and thought that he was the greatest, most intelligent man in the world. She had been just a little girl then and she had loved being around her father and her mother too. She thought that they made a good family.
But then strange things started to happen, things that the little girl could not understand.
Her father started to drink a great deal and argue with her mother late at night.
"Why don't you want to?" he would scream. "You never want to do it any more, you fucking bitch! Have you got some young stud on the side?"
And then her mother would tell her father to shut up because Kitty was asleep.
But Kitty was not asleep. She could never sleep in those days. She would just lie in bed and listen to her mother and her father argue like that and she would get very scared and wonder if they were going to kill each other some night and leave her all alone in the world.
Her father had been a regular doctor then, a good doctor too. But the liquor took over and he lost all of his patients because he could not be depended on to be sober when she was needed by one of his patients. That was when he got the job as assistant coroner. Kitty had heard other doctors laugh about her father. She had heard them at parties in the town and they said that Leo Blake could not hurt any of his patients now, not now that he would just be working on dead people.
And Kitty thought that that was very cruel of them to say, but she had to admit that they were probably right.
She just wished that she could understand what had driven her father to drink like that.
Even now, when she was sixteen, when she had been servicing her father in a sexual way for nearly two years, she still did not know what caused him to drink so much. She had never worked up the courage to ask him about it. Her father had become a silly man but he still had a fiery temper.
Kitty sat on the bed and waited for her father to return to the room with his belt. He seemed to be taking a very long time, and she wanted him to get in there and get it over with. Then, she thought, she would be able to get back to sleep.
She almost called out to him and told him to hurry up and get in there, but she kept her mouth shut. She knew that, on mornings such as this one, her father was angry at every woman who ever lived and he would be even angrier with her if she tried to order him around. Her father was a proud man, and Kitty knew that he was going to make her suffer for the sins of her mother and for the sins of all the other women who had hurt him. She would also suffer for some of her own sins too, she thought. That was the strange thing about the whole relationship. Although Kitty hated to think about what she had done with her father, she still had to admit that in the deepest part of her soul she enjoyed what he did to her. And the teen-ager could not understand at all how she could enjoy such a thing. To her, she seemed vaguely sick or perverted when she enjoyed the treatment that her father gave her.
She shivered there on the bed and waited for her father to get back into that room.
But Leo Blake was standing outside the door to his daughter's bedroom with his belt in his hand and he was thinking that she had already humiliated him that morning, that she was probably in there laughing at him because he had forgotten his belt. It was not his fault, the coroner thought. He had just been so excited by the prospect of being with his daughter this morning that he had forgotten. It was a sign of his father's love, he thought, and she was probably laughing at that sign in that room at that very moment. Leo almost turned around and went back into his room and forgot about the whole thing. He could not stand to think that Kitty was in there laughing at him. It was not fair, he thought, nothing was fair any longer in his wretched life. He should leave his daughter alone and let her have a good time with the boys from high school. He should not infect her with his own bad luck, he thought.
But then he looked down at his cock. It was getting hard as he stood there with his belt in his hand. He closed his eyes and thought of Kitty as she had looked so many times in that bed when he had worked with her, frightened but sex-driven to do what her loving father told her to do. When she got over her fear every morning that he went to her, she actually seemed to enjoy what he did for her. She was that much of a fucking, little whore, just like her fucking whore mother.
But he was her father and he could not let his little daughter down. She probably expected him back in there, he thought. She probably wanted that joy that only her father knew how to give her.
He had to saunter back into that room and do what he could for his sexy, little, blonde daughter. It was his duty to her.
And he was really all that she had now, now that her mother had run off with that guy who should have been a faggot if he had only had the sense enough to realize it.
Leo Blake opened the door and walked back into his daughter's bedroom quietly. Then he shut the door behind him and leaned against the wall. He held the belt out and let her look at it. He knew that she wanted that belt a great deal.
And Kitty looked at that belt and shivered again, sighed to her father with a voice that was soft.
"You are really going to do it to me again, aren't you, Daddy?" she asked.
"Yes," he said. "I could not let you down. You are my only daughter and I am your father."
His voice was soft too and he seemed dazed, more dazed than usual on these mornings, Kitty thought. She wondered if her father had already been drinking. She looked at the clock. It was not even seven o'clock in the morning, and she felt very tired when she knew that.
She had not gotten home until five and then she had collapsed on her bed, well-fucked and exhausted. She had intended to sleep all day. It was summertime and she did not have to go to school.
But her father had come in and had told her that he was going to do it to her again and she knew that she could not deny him his pleasure, although she was not sure what pleasure he actually got out of what he did to her.
But she knew that there was some pleasure for him in what he did. After all, she thought, she felt pleasure that she could not understand. If she felt that kind of strange warmth, she was almost certain that her father would feel something much the same.
She looked at the window and waited for him to attack her. She knew that it would take her father a few seconds to work himself up to the attack. She knew that he had to think about all the wrong that had been done to him by women before he could work out part of that wrong on his daughter's body. She closed her eyes and waited for him to start.
Leo Blake leaned against the wall and grasped his stiffening cock in his hand.
She was a little whore, he thought, so much like his wife, her mother had been.
She was a worthless, little piece of sexy scum, her father thought, and she would hurt him just as his wife had hurt him.
There would come a day when Kitty would leave him too, just as her mother had left him.
There would come a day when she would run off with some boy and never want to see her father again.
And then he would be all alone in the world. Leo did not understand how a girl could leave her father all alone that way after all that he had done for her, but she was going to leave him alone. He knew that for certain, and he knew that it would probably be one day very soon.
The god-damned bitch was going to leave him alone for the rest of his life.
When he thought about all that loneliness that waited for him after Kitty escaped him, the assistant coroner got very angry with her. She had no right to leave him like that! She was his daughter and he had done so much for her! She had no fucking right to leave him for some fucking high school boy who was not even going to be able to support her! The fucking bitch!
And, thinking those thoughts, Leo Blake charged his daughter, screaming at her the word that had become his battle-cry.
"Slut! Slut! Slut!"
And Terri tensed her body and waited for the belt to fall on her flesh.
Her father leaned over the bed and tore the sheet from her tits and pushed her back on the bed. Then he pulled the sheet off the bed and threw it on her bedroom floor.
She lay there naked under her father and waited for the belt to fall.
And he took his time then, standing over her and looking down at her fine, naked body. He looked at that little growth of pussy hair between her legs, and he knew that that was a sign--a sign of her whoredom. He hated that pussy hair more than he had ever hated anything else on any other body, either living or dead.
And he raised his arm and brought the belt down right on that soft, light-colored hair.
The girl squealed when he did that and reached back and grabbed the pillow that her head rested on. The blow had given her great pain, a sharp, shooting pain that went through her cunt and up into her stomach and her lungs. She tossed on the bed and she cried with the pain that was in her.
"Daddy! Don't! Don't and I'll be good!"
She made that vow every time she shared a morning with her father, and she never kept the vow. She was usually out that night fucking around with some high school boy that she had picked up somewhere. Leo knew that the vow meant nothing, but he was again surprised that she had such pain when he hit her and she made that vow again. Didn't she ever learn? He wondered why she did not get used to this kind of treatment. It had been going on for nearly two fucking years.
But he really could not spend his time wondering about things like that, lie remembered.
He had a fatherly duty to do, and he meant to do it as well as he could.
Leo Blake, raised the belt again and brought it down on his daughter's stomach and she squealed and twisted there on the bed and started to weep. But he could not let that stop him. He had more places that he had to whip. The belt came down on her big, slut tits. She squealed again and the belt slapped her body with a hard, whip-like crack.
Leo loved those cracks. They were like music to him, the music that he shared with his own, little daughter.
The assistant coroner thought that those cracks were a symphony for him and Kitty. He remembered the advertisement that he had seen as a boy as he continued to beat his daughter. In that advertisement a handsome father was sitting in his easy-chair and a little girl was sitting on his knee with her little arms around her neck. They were obviously father and daughter and they were both listening to a new phonograph, listening to the music that they shared. That was the kind of sharing that Leo Blake had always wanted to have with Kitty, and he could only have that music with her when he beat her, when he worked up his anger and went after her whore ways with courage and fire and his belt in his hand.
It was the closest thing, he thought, that he and Kitty ever got to real father-daughter happiness. But soon the symphony was over and the father was tired from the beating that he had given his daughter. His arm ached with the tension that he felt there-- And his cock was hard with another kind of tension, a tension that he knew he would have to work out now.
Leo Blake dropped the belt on the floor and looked down at his daughter and sighed.
"Now 1 must do it," he told Kitty softly. "I must do it to you just as I used to do it to your mother. I know that you understand, Kitty." The girl was still weeping and heaving with the fire that the belt had caused in her body.
Yes, she thought, she understood. She understood that this was what the beating really led up to. She understood that her father was going to fuck her and get rid of some of his anger with her that way. She knew that that was the only way that he could really rid himself of the anger, the terrible anger that he had against her mother and all women.
And she knew that she was going to enjoy it in a way. At these times, when the beating was over and the fucking was about to begin, she felt very tender towards her father, thinking that she wanted to help him in this way, thinking that she wanted to give him something to live for, something to feel good about.
She felt tender toward him at this moment and she held up her arms and urged him to come to her.
"I will fuck you, Daddy," she said. "I will fuck you and make you feel better."
Leo Blake looked at her as she lay there and he was confused, as he was always confused at moments such as this one, when she offered herself to him. Was she being a whore or being a good and loving daughter? Was it right for him to fuck her? He always asked himself those questions and he never had any answers. He just knew that he had to do it. He had to fuck her and get rid of all that tension that filled his body, that tension that was in his cock.
Leo moved onto the back and pressed his body against his daughter's soft sexiness.
He kissed her passionately, not like a father kisses a daughter but as a lover kisses his beloved.
She was all that he had in life, he reminded himself and she was offering her body to fill the emptiness, the need that he felt in his own soul.
And Leo knew that it would work too. He knew that he would enjoy fucking his sexy, blonde Kitty. And then he would be better able to face the day and be a good man. He had already decided that he would not go into his office that day and he wondered what he would do. He knew that he would do something good that day. He felt that any day that started with his fucking of his daughter would have to be a good day, filled with good deeds.
"Fuck me, Daddy,"the girl whispered. "Fuck my pussy and make us both feel better."
Kitty could still feel the heat on her body that had been caused by the belt, but she felt something else too. She felt another heat in her body, a heat that was wet and yearning, that started in her girlish cunt and worked its way up her body and invaded her mind with its softness and its desire. She knew that that heat came to her from the need to fuck, and she knew that she felt that same heat with a lot of boys, the boys she fucked until dawn.
But, with her father, things were different and the heat was even more intense.
The boys in high school did not need her cunt the way that her lonely, silly, aging father did. And she did not need those boys as much as she needed the man who had created her with his sperm, the man who had given her life in her mother's womb. She was sorry that he felt so bad about his own life, sorry that he had made a mess of his own existence, but she knew that she could fuck him and make things a little better for the man.
Knowing that, she spread her legs and let her father move over her. Knowing that, she reached down and touched his cock with her girlish fingers.
She liked the feel of her father's prick. It was more manly and masculine, more mature and harder with need, than any of the other cocks that she touched.
She sighed as she wrapped her fingers around that organ and she spoke to her father with all of her own need in her voice.
"Fuck me, Daddy. Please fuck me. I need it too."
And it was no lie. She did need this fucking, almost as much as her father needed it. She did not understand why. She knew that she usually dreaded this time with her father before they started, but at times like this she needed his fucking, no matter how many other "men she had fucked the night before. She needed her father because he was special to her-- And, because, she had to admit, that he had beat her with that belt. There was something in her that needed that belt too. And she could not figure out that need either.
But she knew that that need was there, deep inside her, and she knew that only her father could beat her the way that she liked.
She pulled the cock toward her young pussy and guided it into her as her father moved on top of her. She whispered in his ear again and pushed him up so that he could fuck her with power, the kind of power that a father should use with his daughter.
"Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me good. I know that you can do it."
It always happened to Leo Blake at that very moment, something that he could not understand.
Always, just before the real fucking started, he would lie on his daughter like a corpse.
She would push him up and he would try to raise up but it was difficult. He seemed weak, almost paralyzed with the lust that he felt for her. But then that moment would pass and he would be able to raise up and he would move his cock into her well-fucked, young pussy as he had done so many times before and she would raise her ass and her legs and wrap those legs around his waist and she would sigh with great emotion as the cock slid into her gently.
It was a big cock, a daddy cock. But she could take it all into her because she hail fucked so many boys and because she had fucked her own father so often and because her own pussy was so wet with desire for the man who was on top of her.
When he was in her cunt, filling her up, she tensed her body and cried out to him with all of her daughterly love.
"Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me! Fuck my pussy!"
And that gave him the charge that he needed, the shot of power that he needed to give Kitty the kind of fucking that she desired.
Leo Blake started to fuck his teen-aged daughter, started to move his cock into her pussy and then pull it out as her young legs tensed about his body and as she sighed with girlish frenzy and started to toss under him.
"Oh, fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me." And he fucked her, just the way that she wanted him to do.
Leo rammed into her sweetness again and again and fucked her with great desire.
And he started to growl down at her just the same way that he always did when he fucked her. He told her what he thought of her at moments like this, he told her what he thought of all women.
"Fucking little whore," he snarled. "Fucking, little bitch."
"Yes," she moaned as she worked under him and felt that cock move deep into her snatch again and again. "Yes, I am a fucking, little whore, Daddy, but I am your fucking, little whore."
"It would break my heart to know that you were not mine," he growled. "It would break my father's heart to know that you fucked all of those boys and you didn't fuck me. You know that, don't you, Kitty?"
"Yes, Daddy, but 1 am fucking you. That is your cock in my pussy right now, Daddy."
And he looked down and saw that it was true. Her pussy seemed to tighten around his prick. It was so tight and wet that he almost felt that the pussy would never let his cock go.
And he did not mind that idea at all. He could think of worse ways to spend the rest of the days of his life than being stuck to his daughter in this sexy way, with his cock deep in her pretty, blonde-haired snatch.
The father watched with sexual fascination as his cock worked back and forth in that pussy.
It seemed to fit so well, Leo Blake thought. Why would he ever want another woman? Why would his daughter ever want another man?
And then he was reminded that she did fuck other men, high school boys.
And he remembered that she would leave him one day and go off with some guy and leave her loving father all alone for the rest of his life. When he thought about these things, he felt that old anger rise up his throat his again and he started to spit out the curses that he always gave her, the curses that Kitty had grown to expect from him. He did not want to let his blonde, little daughter down.
"You fucking, little slut. You worthless bitch. You would fuck anybody, even your own fucking father."
"Yes," she moaned, tossing under him as she felt the cock drive her on to orgasm. "Yes. Even my own father."
"Fucking slut." "Yes. Yes."
And the fucking reached its most outrageous peak, reached the peak as the man growled and as the girl whimpered and tightened her legs around her father so that she could hold him into her and then the father and the daughter froze them in a second of real and honest passion for each other. They froze as they both came. His fatherly cream was shooting into her cunt like bits of flame from a fire-throwing machine. And her own heat was battling his heat and giving him what he desired too.
When it was over, they knew that they had pleased each other immensely. They knew that they had given each other what they both needed. They sighed and separated there and Leo rolled off his daughter and lay next to her.
In a few seconds, Kitty was asleep. She had been exhausted by all the fucking the night before and she was even more exhausted now, now that she had fucked her own father and felt his cock in her and his belt on her sexy, young flesh.
Leo turned and looked at his daughter. He was glad that she was asleep now, lying there on the bed, naked and spread out on her back. Leo curled into a little ball and lay on the bed with her. Usually, he got up and left her immediately after the fucking was over, but this time he wanted to stay with her. He wanted to be near his daughter for a little longer as he remembered one of the fine moments of his life.
He closed his eyes and thought about that moment.
It had been in New York City twenty years before and he had been a young medical student at the time. He did not know why he had gone to view the celebrity's body as it lay in state in the church on Fifth Avenue. He supposed that he was just curious. But now he thought that some unseen power had drawn him to that place and had told him that someone in the crowd around the celebrity would change his life.
The dead man was young, only twenty-nine, Leo remembered.
He had been a singing idol for a couple of years and had had many gold records, many hit recordings. And then one day he had just died. He had been found in his bed one morning in New York City by his maid. There were no drugs around, not even any liquor. He had just died peacefully in his sleep, although he had not even been sick.
Leo later learned as a coroner that that often happened. Death came and there was no real reason for it. It just seemed to show up and say howdy-doo and crawl right into bed with the most healthy people. Leo had learned to look upon death as a silly, little girl, a girl who did not know what she wanted but who was willing to try anything with anybody. To the assistant coroner, that image of death made sense and nothing else really did.
The young bride of the singing star had decided to let the public view his body. She said that the people out there loved him too and should have a chance to see him as he lay in his coffin. That really did not make much sense to Leo when he was a young medical student and he wondered again why he had gone to see that body. Perhaps he had known even then that he would be a coroner. Perhaps he had felt some force call him to go to that church and be there to meet her. It must have been something like that, for Leo had never even bought any of the idol's records. He did not even own a record-player.
Leo did not like music that much at all, except for the music he had discovered with his daughter, the singing belt that landed with cracks on her body.
He had gone to Fifth Avenue and had seen the long line there waiting to get into the church and he had almost turned around right then. He knew that he would have to stand in line for a long time to see the body and he did not think it was worth it. But he did not have a chance to make a graceful exit.
For, just as he arrived, a man came out to the front of the church and made an announcement to the hundreds of people who were out there.
The young bride of the singing idol had changed her mind. She had decided that, when he was put in his coffin, her husband was just too dead-looking to view. It depressed her to see that body, the man told the crowd, and the bride wanted to save all of his fans from that same depression.
"We think that it would be better if you would all go home and remember him the way that he was," the man said to the crowd through a portable microphone.
His voice boomed out on Fifth Avenue, and, by the time that voice got to the place where Leo was standing near the edge of the crowd, the sounds that the young medical student heard made no fucking sense at all. They seemed like traffic noise or echoes of traffic noise from somewhere over on the west side of the city.
But the people who were standing closer to the church, the people who heard what the man had said, started to get very angry.
"Fucking bitch!" one man yelled. "We want to see him!"
And, for some reason, that yell that was not carried by a microphone and a speaker down the street was clear to everyone there. And the crowd started to push toward the door of the church, demanding to see the idol that they had worshipped from afar so long- The man who had made the announcement retreated into the church and slammed the doors behind him. But that did not stop the people on the street.
The riot had started in full force and it was going to be a long time before New York City ever forgot this one.
The crowds slammed against the doors of the church: They were cursing and screaming and crying out in their anger and Leo found himself moving forward too.
It did not make sense, he thought to himself as he pushed against the shoulders of the fat woman in black in front of him. It did not make sense for him to join in the riot. He had never even liked that singing star. It did not make a shit's worth of difference to him if he saw that dead body or not.
But he pushed just the same and he found himself thinking that he was a human being, that he was an American, by God, and that he would not allow himself to be denied.
The cops came quickly and tried to move through the crowd and break it up, but, by then, the people were too close to one other and too angry. None of them would be denied. They were hammering and pushing on the doors of that church and everyone knew that it was just a matter of time until they broke those old doors down.
The church was a landmark building in New York City.
It would become even more of a landmark after that afternoon.
It would be the sight of the great riot of death, a strange and convulsive mob action that the great thinkers of New York still tried to figure out to this day.
The people in the crowd pushed closer and closer to the door and finally the door did break with a crash that even Leo heard at the back of the crowd.
And the hundreds of mourners cheered when the door moved out of their way and ran like devils into the church.
Leo pushed forward. He wanted to get inside that church too. He did not even think about the dead star that was lying in there, or about the young bride who had changed her mind and tried to bar Americans from the mourning place.
He only thought that this was a great moment in history.
And he thought that he would not be able to tell his children about it unless he actually got inside that church and stood there as the moment in history happened.
Leo became crazed with the need to get inside that church.
He started to push people aside, people who were in his way, people who blocked his way from that great moment in history, from that story that he would be able to tell his children about.
Lying next to Kitty, Leo suddenly remembered that he had never told Kitty about that moment. She had never asked about it. He looked at her. She was sleeping now and she really did not care about the history of his meager life. No, he thought, he would never tell her about that time of triumph when he got into the big church on Fifth Avenue.
The fat woman in black actually bit his hand when he pushed her out of the way.
But it was not until he had fought his way up the steps of that church, not until he had actually gotten into the building, that he noticed that his hand was bleeding from the woman's bite.
He stood there as the crowd rushed past him and he heard the men yell out to one another.
"Lynch the bitch! Lynch that whore that tried to keep us out of here!"
And Leo found himself laughing at that cry as he took his handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapped it around his bleeding hand.
Then he walked toward the front of the big church, moving through the crowds of mourners, the people who were ripping up the seats and stealing anything that they could get their hands on.
"I have a hymnal," one woman gasped at Leo in the second that it took for their eyes to meet before they were both swept up in the angry crowd. "I will cherish this book always," she cried to Leo as she was taken away. ' And Leo thought that that was very strange because that hymnal had nothing to do with the dead man in the church. She could have stolen that hymnal any day, he thought.
And then he reached out and grabbed a hymnal for himself.
But he dropped it as he moved closer to the front of the church and saw what was happening up there. The survivors of the dead singing star had run for safety, but they had not had time to move the coffin that was up front.
And a group of angry men were lifting that coffin and turning it over.
Leo turned around and started toward the back of the church. He did not want to see that. But he heard the cry go up and knew that it had happened. They had emptied the singing star onto the floor and they had cheered their American victory.
As he was struggling to get to the door of the church in the back, a young girl pressed herself against him and moaned to him through her tears.
"Please, hold onto me," she said. "Get me out of here."
He looked at her. She was a blonde with blue eyes and she was shaken up by the whole thing. He grabbed her arm and pulled her through the crowd that was still rushing through the doors of the church.
"Why did you come?" he yelled at her over the noise of the people, knowing that, if anyone had asked him that question, he would not have had an answer for it at all.
"I loved him!" she screamed in answer. "I have all his records at home!"
So this blonde was a real fan, he thought, not some crazed New Yorker out for a good time and a bit of destruction. He knew that he owed it to her to get her out of that church.
They almost fell down the steps outside, but somehow they both kept their balance as they ran by the people and the cops and then they ran down Fifth Avenue.
They ran for several blocks, with Leo holding her hand and pulling her along with him. He could not let this girl go until he knew that she was safe, he determined. He could not let her leave him now that he had saved her.
By the time that they finally stopped and looked at each other and gasped at each other as they tried to catch their breaths, Leo was in love with this girl. He knew it for certain. He wanted to marry this fan and be her good husband for the rest of his years.
"What is your name?" he asked, still gasping for air as the words popped out.
"Molly," she said, and her eyes shined in the afternoon sun.
She was so lovely and so pure, he thought, pure enough to be the best fan in the world.
"Where do you live?"
"Brooklyn," she said.
"Can I go home with you and listen to his records?" he asked her.
She smiled at him and took his hand in hers. "Of course," she said.
And they walked down Fifth Avenue like the lovers that they were.
They took the subway to Brooklyn and went to his little apartment and listened to the singing star's records, songs that Leo had never heard before. Molly cried a little bit but then she regained her composure and fixed Leo some coffee.
She thanked him for saving her and kissed him and just naturally assumed that he was a fan too. He did not tell her differently. He wanted this girl to think that they had something in common.
And he made love to her that night in her apartment in Brooklyn.
And they were married the next week by a judge who ran the couples through his office as if they were items on a conveyor belt. They went to a hotel and checked in and spent their honeymoon there for the weekend.
It was the beginning of a very happy life for Leo. He was in medical school and Molly had a nice job and loved him every night.
It was the closest thing to heaven that Leo ever felt.
Now, remembering the heaven that he had had in New York City as he lay there naked beside the only daughter of the union with Molly that he had enjoyed so much, he felt that he was going to cry.
Leo got off the bed slowly, so as not to disturb his sleeping, naked daughter.
And he went down to his own room. It was not until he got to that room that he realized that he had forgotten his belt, the one that he used to beat his daughter.
He could have gone back for it, but he did not want to do that.
It would have made him seem even more silly than he actually was, he thought.
And, naked, Leo threw himself on his own bed and cried like a baby, cried because he was such a silly, daughter-fucking man.
And he cried because he knew that he would never have that heaven again, that heaven that he had felt in New York City with his wife, Molly.
He recalled how sweetly she used to cry out his name when she came.
Crying out: "Leo! Leo! Love me! Fuck me!"
Never again would he hear that voice.
But his daughter's voice was so similar.
It was the same voice, in the young girl.
And it was so sweet to his ears.
Chapter Two
Kitty lay on her bed later that morning. She had just awakened and she was not tired at that time.
In fact, she was very awake. Her skin was tingling with excitement as she looked at the sunlight filtering through the window. She could still feel a little bit of sting on her body, the sting that was caused by her father's belt. She sighed and concentrated on that sting that was deep in her mind.
She did not feel really guilty about what she and her father had done. Her father needed that closeness, she thought. Her father needed someone to submit to him and love him. And Kitty did love her father. But she was still confused because she had enjoyed so much of that act. She really should not really enjoy being beaten, she thought. She did not think that any other girl in the world would enjoy that.
Kitty escaped the confusion in her brain by closing her eyes and trying to remember what had happened the night before. She thought that any girl in the world would have done that. Or would any girl do that? She remembered all the intricacies of the sex she had shared with the red-haired, sexy Barlow twins, Ronnie and Richie. Some of that stuff that she had shared with them was very similar to what she shared with her father, she thought. Perhaps she needed that strange kind of intimacy. She tried to remember all of it, tried to remember what had taken place, what had led to that intimacy.
The first time Kitty had to remember was that she already had a reputation in the high school as a girl who would do anything with boys.
She did not really mind that reputation. Sure, some of the girls did not speak to her and said dirty things about her, but Kitty knew that they wanted to do some of the things that she did. They were just afraid of soiling their own spotless reputations. And Kitty really did not like those girls anyway.
She liked her father and she liked boys. She had always liked boys more than girls, even in the days when she had played baseball with them and tackle football and all of those other boys' games. She had been called a tom-boy then, but, as she grew older, she was called a whore.
Kitty did not really see the difference. She just liked to play games with boys and now that she was a teen-ager those games involved sex.
So she had a bad reputation and she had gone out the night before in search of some fun. When she showed up at the drive-in restaurant where all the kids hung out, she had worn some of her sexiest summer clothes, her shorts and her halter-top. She was dressed for action and, as she scampered from car to car flirting with the boys who sat there in those cars, she made sure that every boy in that place knew that she wanted some action, some hot action on this summer night.
The cute blonde did not know why she craved this action so much, she suspected that it had something to do with what her father had done to her about two years before. She had loved and hated her father on that first morning and that strange combination of emotions had confused her. When she tried out her first boy soon after that, she had not been confused at all. She did not love or hate that boy. She just had fun with him, and she liked that kind of mindless, sexual fun that fucking brought to her.
Anyway, she would have gone with any of those boys the night before, but she finally settled on the Barlow twins, who were sitting in their old Ford and drinking cherry colas. She went with them because Ronnie, the twin who was driving, was the first boy there to bring up the subject, to ask her straight out if she wanted to go off somewhere with him and his brother.
That was one thing about high school boys, she thought: Most of them are really very shy about asking for what they wanted, even with a girl like Kitty.
But Ronnie Barlow was not shy at all.
He looked back at Kitty as she sat there in the back seat of the car by herself and he asked her after she had only been with him and his brother for about five minutes.
"Hey, Kitty," he said, with a grin, "if we buy you a hot-dog or something, will you go with us and fuck both of us?"
She giggled, but she did not blush. She was beyond blushing by that point.
And then she told him the truth, the honest and straight-forward truth.
"You don't have to buy me a hot-dog Ronnie. I figure you and Richie had two nice hot-dogs that I can munch on anyway."
And then it was their turn to laugh. Ronnie laughed and slapped his brother's shoulder and yelled at him.
"Richie! We are gonna fuck us one nice sweet girl tonight!"
And Richie actually did blush. Although he and Ronnie were identical twins, they were not really that much alike inside. Ronnie was rough and ready and a bit of an outlaw, a teen-aged hoodlum. Richie admired his brother and tried to be like him, but, down deep Richie was soft and rather sweet, more boyish than Ronnie. Kitty actually liked the softer brother better than the twin who was so mean and rascally.
She would fuck both of them, however fuck both of them with skill and with passion Ronnie hit Richie's shoulder again and laughed at his blush.
"Oh, Richie, you are gonna get yourself some pussy tonight," Ronnie said.
Then the outlaw brother turned back and looked at Kitty.
"I don't think Richie has ever fucked a girl before," he said.
"Have to," Richie said, sounding like a hurt child. "Fucked that girl in New Orleans, remember, Ronnie? Remember when you and me went to New Orleans last summer and we found those two girls? Remember, Ronnie, remember?"
Kitty thought that the soft brother sounded a little desperate at that moment.
Ronnie laughed at him and turned to Kitty and told her the story.
"We picked up these two twin girls in New Orleans, Susan and Sally or something like that. Who remembers names? Anyway, we thought that it would be good, twin on twin and all of that. We took them back to a motel and we rented ourselves two rooms and I took one of them and Richie took another one. The next morning, Richie's girl said all he did was stick his finger in. He just kept fingering her all night long, like he thought that that was what fucking was all about."
"That's a lie!" Richie yelled, turning red in his anger and his shame.
"That's what she said, Brother," Ronnie said.
"I don't care. It is a lie. I did fuck her. I know what fucking is all about. It is just that I took my time and I think that she was, maybe, asleep when I finally fucked her."
Ronnie exploded with laughter and Kitty could not help herself. She had to laugh too. The very idea of some girl falling asleep and being fucked that way was so funny and so outrageous. Kitty knew then that Ronnie was right, that Richie probably did not know jack-shit about fucking. But, for some reason, that made her like the softer brother even more, and she did not want him to get too embarrassed by the whole situation. So she spoke to the outlaw brother who was driving.
"Let's go somewhere private, Ronnie," she purred. "I am getting all hot and turned on."
And Ronnie grinned back at her and turned around and started the motor and pulled the car out of the parking lot of the restaurant.
As he drove to his private place, he still goaded Richie by telling the blonde stories about his twin brother's failings as a man.
"I would get back there with you, Kitty," he said, "and let Richie drive. Except Richie don't know how to drive. Ain't that something. Seventeen years old and he can't drive. I tried to teach him a couple of months ago, but he just couldn't learn. Damned near killed us both too. He almost hit a school, the old grade school building downtown. He was practicing in the parking lot of that school one Saturday afternoon and damned near hit the building. If I had not grabbed the wheel, we might have been both killed by that stupid brother of mine."
He grinned in the rear-view mirror, grinned at Kitty with a sense of pride.
"Course, I've been driving damned near all my life," Ronnie said.
Richie did not say anything at all, but Kitty watched him shiver with anxiety. She reached up and touched the boy's shoulder. She felt his shivers of embarrassment go through her too.
"Don't worry, Richie," she said. "I have not learned to drive either."
"It is not the same," the boy muttered. "You are a girl. You should not have to drive anywhere."
She did not understand why that should make a difference. Girls drove cars too and Kitty had often wondered why her father would not allow her to learn to drive. She thought that it might have something to do with her father's fear that she would leave him if she could drive a car, escape him and his cock and his morning wrath.
But she let it pass. She did not want to get into an argument with Richie. In fact, she wanted to fuck that Barlow twin more than the other. She wanted to show him that he could be just as good as his brother, even if he did not know how to drive.
Ronnie was roaring through the town and he spoke to Kitty there in the back seat with a voice that was raucous with lust.
"Hey, little blonde," he said, "I know just the place for you. I have been to this place with a lot of girls."
"Really, Ronnie?" she chirped, speaking to him while she sat forward in the car seat and kept her hand on Richie's shoulder. "What place is it?"
"Special place," he said, "for all my special girlfriends. Richie has never been there before. I don't take him along when I want to give a girl a few turns with the old gut-wrench, you know. Most girls don't like having a twin brother along. I guess they think that it will confuse them."
Kitty had to laugh at that one. She thought that Ronnie, even with all of his terrible and outlaw ways, was very funny in some of the things that he said.
And then she looked at both of the twin brothers and she imagined that it would confuse some girls. She imagined that it would be like being in some other universe to be fucking one brother and then look up and see the other brother waiting to fuck her. It would be like a mirror, a mirror that did not make any sense at all. And she wondered how the brothers were going to feel fucking her. If one of them watched another one fucking her, would it be like watching a porno movie that he, himself, starred in. She thought that this was going to be a magnificent experience for both of the brothers and for her too.
She could hardly wait to get to Ronnie's special place.
By that time, they were going out of the city limits, into the nice, green wooded areas around Victory. She had been out here before, had parked out here and fucked many boys. She sighed with memories of all those fuckings. It always seemed better, more natural out here, she thought.
She liked to fuck surrounded by trees and green grass and listening to crickets chirp in the woods.
She thought that that made the fucking seem like part of the real universe, like something natural and beautiful and free. She liked to feel free when she fucked a boy. She never felt free with her father, but that was different. She liked the feeling of captivity she had with her father, but that was enough captivity for her. She wanted to make sure that the fucking of high school boys was as different from the fucking of her father as humanly possible. She did not want that old father-daughter confusion creeping into her fucking of high school boys.
Ronnie pulled off the main road and into a little patch of woods that Kitty recognized immediately. Was this his special place? She wondered about that because it not so special at all. At least a half dozen boys had brought her to this same spot to fuck her. But she did not want to mention that to Ronnie. She did not want to hurt his masculine feelings.
Ronnie stopped his car in the spot where so many other cars had stopped too.
Kitty sighed. There was nothing really special at this place at all. She would have to make it special with her own skill at fucking, she decided..
Ronnie turned around and grinned at her.
"How do you like it, Kitty?" he asked happily'.
And she put on her most girlish face and lied to him.
"Oh, Ronnie, this is so nice. I have never been here before. It seems so natural to be out here, Ronnie. I just know that I am going to love it here with you and Richie."
"Well, honey-pie," the outlaw brother said, "you gonna love it with me here, I know."
He glanced at his softer, sweeter brother and grinned.
"I don't know how much you gonna love it with Richie. He ain't never done this before."
"Have to," Richie muttered. "Have to done it. Done it in New Orleans and you know it, Ronnie."
He was angry and hurt and shivering again. Kitty leaned over the seat and kissed his cheek.
"You are gonna be just great, Richie," she said softly. "I can tell that already."
"Richie," the outlaw brother said, "get that old blanket that is in the trunk and come with me and Kitty out there into the woods."
And the softer brother did as he was told to do.
He got out of the car as Ronnie handed him the keys. He went to the back of the car and opened the trunk. Kitty and Ronnie got out of the car too and stood together next to it while Ronnie took the little blonde in his arms and kissed her. His mouth was hard on hers, but she rubbed her sexy body against his and she could feel his hardness in his pants.
She wanted to wait for Richie, but Ronnie did not seem to care about his brother now.
He took Kitty's hand and pulled her and started to run into the woods with her.
"What about Richie?" she gasped, as she started to run too, in order to keep from falling.
"He'll catch up. You will want me first anyways," Ronnie said happily and proudly.
Kitty was not so sure of that. She did not know which of the Barlow twins she wanted first. She supposed that, physically, it would make no difference since the boys were twins, but, in a way, she wanted Richie first so that she could fuck the boy and prove to him that he was as good and maybe even better than his brother.
Ronnie and Kitty stopped running when they came to a little clearing in the trees.
It was a clearing that Kitty had fucked in before. Most of the boys in high school knew about this clearing, but she was surprised that they never seemed to run into each other out there. It was just a matter of chance, she figured, and the thing that happened because not many girls were like Kitty, that hot for fucking and ready to admit it. Probably most girls liked to fuck somewhere close to home, where they could feel safe and secure as the cocks ran into their pussies.
Kitty, of course, did not feel safe and secure at home and she did not care where she fucked high school boys. She just wanted to have those cocks in her pussy, and the more cocks the better.
That was one reason why she was particularly excited by this thing tonight.
She had never had two boys at the same time, she remembered, and these two boys would be very special to her because they were twins, identical but oh, so different in many ways.
Thinking about the similarities and differences, she moved against Ronnie Barlow and pulled his red-haired head down to hers and kissed him again. His mouth was still hard. When that kiss was over, the outlaw brother whispered to Kitty.
"You really want to do this, Kitty?"
"Sure," she said with a grin, "I think it will be fun to have both of you.' "If you want to change your mind and forget about it, that is all right with me," Ronnie said nervously. "I mean, we could just go back to the restaurant and folks would think that we did it anyway. That would be almost as good as doing it you know."
Kitty pulled away from Ronnie Barlow, confused now by his sudden nervousness.
"What do you mean?" she asked. "It would not be almost as good as fucking. Nothing is almost as good as fucking, and you should know that. You should know just how good it feels to get all of that tension out of. you.' Ronnie glanced toward the edge of the clearing, no doubt checking to see that his brother was not coming yet, and then he turned to Kitty and shook and admitted the truth.
"I don't know nothing about it," he said softly, almost choking on the words. "Don't tell Richie. He knows something. That girl in New Orleans taught him something, I guess. But I was so scared that night that I just hid in the bathroom and the girl and I did not do nothing."
Kitty did not know what to make of that at first. It reversed the roles that the Barlow brothers played. The outlaw brother was not the inexperienced one, and the soft brother did know something about fucking.
Kitty shook her head to clear the confusion out of her brain.
And then she looked at Ronnie Barlow again and she smiled.
For some reason, that she could not understand, she liked him better now, now that he had admitted to her that he was a virgin, that the whole role was nothing but a facade, a lie.
She smiled at him and spoke softly to him.
"It's okay, Ronnie," she said. "Richie and I will show you what to do." "Don't tell Richie," the boy whispered, almost begging with her in his fright. "Don't tell him nothing. It would not be fair, Kitty. Richie makes better grades than I do in school and he don't even know how to drive. If he found out that I didn't-" He stopped talking when he heard Richie call out to them.
"Hey, where are you two?"
Kitty stepped toward the outlaw brother who was in reality a virgin and took his hand in hers and pressed it hard to calm.
"You can trust me, Ronnie," she said. "I won't tell Richie."
And then she called out to the other brother.
"We are over here, Richie! Over here in the clearing!"
And Richie came crashing through the underbrush and stood there in the middle of the clearing with the blanket in his arms. The brother looked around him and inspected the little, moon-lit clearing.
"Yeah," he said, "I heard about this place."
"Put the blanket down, Richie," the blonde said. "Let's get started here."
She did not want Richie to reveal the truth to his virgin brother. She did not want Ronnie to know that this place was not a special place at all.
And Richie grinned and carefully spread the blanket out on the ground as Kitty looked on and held Ronnie's hand to calm him.
There was a big black spot in the middle of the gray blanket, a spot that covered most of the thing. She looked at it and then she looked at Ronnie.
"Spilled some motor oil on it," Ronnie said apologetically. "It is all dried now, although I guess it still smells some. If you want to forget-" "No," she can quickly, cutting the frightened, outlaw brother off. "That is okay. I don't mind the smell. In fact, I think that it smells sort of sexy don't you, Richie?"
"I don't mind it," the softer brother said softly.
Kitty wondered if Richie could tell that something was different now. She wondered if he was sensitive enough to figure out that something had changed in the girl and especially in his brother. Perhaps he could. Kitty did think that Richie Barlow seemed more confident, more manly now that they were in the clearing. Perhaps, Kitty thought, there was something magical about twins so that only one of them could feel really good about himself at once. Perhaps there had just been enough masculine pride in Mrs. Barlow's womb for one boy and now the two twins had to share it, had to feed off each other, so that, in order for Richie to feel confident, Ronnie had to be a little scared. Kitty thought about that theory for a second and then thought that she would use it in fucking them. She would take them one at a time and make each of the boys feel good about himself in turn.
Thinking that, the blonde slipped onto her knees and took a deep breath. The motor oil that darkened the blanket was sweet-smelling, she thought. And Kitty reached behind her and loosened her halter-top. She knew that both brothers were watching her with eagerness and excitement and a little bit of boyish fear.
And Kitty wanted them both to feel good about themselves.
She bared her tits and then spoke to Richie, the soft brother who had had some experience with sex down in New Orleans.
"I think that I will have you first, Richie," she said. "I am sure that Ronnie won't mind being second."
"Uhhh," the outlaw brother stammered. "I don't mind at all."
Kitty knew that that was the best way to do it, to make both of them feel good.
Ronnie would get a chance to watch his brother fuck the girl and that would teach him something and turn him on at the same time. And Richie would feel better because she had chosen him to be first.
Kitty kicked off her sandals and then turned on the blanket and lifted her hips up and loosened the shorts and pushed them down. In just a few seconds, she was naked in front of the Barlow twins.
Then she grinned up at Richie and spoke to him softly.
"I want to see your body too, Richie," she said. "Please take off your clothes for me." . Richie looked at Ronnie and grinned with pride.
"See," he said, "I told you, Ronnie."
"Told him what?" Kitty asked.
"Ronnie said that girls did not like to have their boyfriends take off their clothes when they got fucked. They just wanted the boys to unzip their pants and whop their cocks out. He said that only faggots take off their clothes when they fuck," Kitty looked at Ronnie. It was just some more of his virgin bravado, some of his boyish foolishness.
"Every girl is different," she finally told Richie. "Personally, I like to see boys with their clothes off and I know that it does not make them faggots to take off their clothes with me."
"I thought that would make more sense," Richie said, "and that girl in New Orleans damned near ripped my clothes off me."
And then Richie, filled with manly confidence, pulled off his T-shirt.
Kitty glanced at Ronnie again and she saw him blush.
Only faggots took their clothes off when they fucked a girl. It was the kind of thing that a virgin would tell another virgin, she thought.
Kitty would have laughed at the whole idea, but she had to be careful. She did not want to make either of those Barlow twins feel bad. She wanted to make them both feel good in their own ways.
And Richie was taking his clothes off. Kitty turned and concentrated on that young man, her first Barlow boy of the night.
Richie Barlow had a thin, strong freckled body, and she was sure that his brother's body would look much the same way. He was down to his shorts by that time, by the time that Kitty really did begin to concentrate on him. She looked at the bulge in his white jockey-shorts and she wondered if that bulge was anything like his brother's. It was very big, and she was certain that she was going to enjoy that Barlow cock. She tried to keep the boys straight in her head. The one who was putting his fingers under the waistband of his shorts at that moment was the one who had had some experience with girls, had fucked a girl down in New Orleans. But he was also the soft one, the one who made better grades, and was less of an outlaw than his brother. It caused a bit of confusion in her head, but she did not mind this kind of sexy, sweet confusion at all. And, when she saw the boy pushed his shorts down, when she saw that reddish cock jump out at her, she realized that this was just the kind of confusion that was the best for a teen-aged girl. Richie Barlow stepped out of his shorts gingerly and stood naked in front of the girl. Kitty rose up to her knees and beckoned him to her with her finger. He moved toward her and stood in front of her. He had had some experience with girls, she remembered, and that experience had taught him something about what girls like to do with boys. He was naked and he was not going to feel like a faggot at all, she thought.
His cock was about half-erect already. It was already long and firm with sexual strength and sexual excitement. And the hair at the base of his cock was red, just like the hair on his and his brother's heads. She liked that red hair. It made Kitty think that his cock was on fire with lust for her.
And she liked to think about that fire and what it would do for her.
She wrapped her fingers around the Barlow cock and she glanced back at Ronnie for a moment. He was sitting on the ground, just a few feet away from them, but he was not sitting on the blanket. It was as if he thought that oily blanket was somehow sacred at that moment, that he could not touch it with his body until he was ready to fuck Kitty Blake.
And she guessed that that was right. The blanket was a sacred place of sex at that moment. She looked back at that fiery, boyish cock that she held in her hand and she thought that that cock was what made the blanket sacred to her.
And she was sure that the other Barlow cock would add its own sacred power to the blanket before long. The other one would be ready and sweet for her too.
But Kitty had to keep her mind on this cock.
She could not think of both Barlow cocks at the same time. To do so would be to invite the confusion that other girls had been afraid of.
She stroked the cock of Richie Barlow and she looked up at him.
"I hear you make good grades," she said softly and sweetly to him.
He nodded his head at her and his green eyes were alive with the sexual fire that she was giving him with her hand.
"I like boys who make good grades," she told him. "They are often the best lovers because they understand so much, and I know that boys that make good grades make the most successful men in the real world."
She continued to handle his cock while she complimented him.
"And your cock is very long too," she said. "I would give this prick an A-plus."
The boy smiled at her when she said that to him.
She looked at the cock and grinned, and then she heard Richie make an excuse for himself.
"Does it matter that I can't drive, Kitty?" he asked softly, nervously.
"With a cock like this," she said, still looking straight at the prick as she spoke, "driving does not matter at all."
"Really?"
"A girl would gladly drive a boy around herself for a cock like this," she informed him. And the cock pulsed in her hand as if her compliment and her words of girlish wisdom had given Richie something more to be happy about, something more to feel content about in his own masculinity.
Kitty leaned forward and slightly and kissed the tip of the prick softly.
"Wow!" one of the Barlow boys said, but she could not figure out if it was Richie or Ronnie and she guessed that it really did not make any difference.
She was centering all of her thoughts on that prick. That Barlow cock in her hand, that cock that was strengthening with male power as she handled it, that cock was the center of Kitty Blake's universe at that moment. She stuck out her tongue and licked the end of the cock and she felt Richie Barlow shiver with desire when she did that. She touched his reddish, freckled ass with her fingers and felt the tension there. It was the kind of tension that grew in a male when the sex first started, she knew from experience with her father and with other high school boys. It was the kind of tension that could only be drained from a male's body by some fucking and sucking and an orgasm, a shot of white fire that cleans a male of his tension and his fever and left him feeling better than ever.
Kitty looked up at Richie Barlow and saw that he was holding his body tense with his hips jutted out so that she could more easily do what she wished with his cock and his face was turned up toward the night sky, toward the moon.
He looked like the high priest of some ancient moon-worshipping cult, she thought, the high priest who was leading his people in prayer to the moon. She liked that idea, and she held onto it as she opened her mouth and leaned forward on the cock. As she closed her lips around Richie's prick, she thought that it was the least she could do for such a sexy high priest of the moon.
When she tightened her lips around that cock, she heard Richie moan to the moon.
"Oh, this is great, Ronnie. This is fucking great."
And Kitty knew that it was great. It was great for her too.
The cock tasted like fire to her and it warmed her insides as she sucked on it. She worked her head back and forth on the rod and felt the thing harden in her mouth. She accepted that hardening as she had accepted so many other hardening cocks in her by then. But this one was different. She had never sucked a fiery cock before.
She moved her face close to Richie's body and she let the whole prick ram into her throat as she pressed her face against the cock-hair, the fiery, red cock hair that was so soft and yet so hard too. Her mind was filled with ticklish fantasies and she thought of this cock as a fiery sword that she was swallowing, a fiery sword that purified her deep inside. She raised her hand and touched her breast as she sucked on that prick and she felt that purifying force in her.
Then she took her mouth off the fiery cock and she glanced back at the other Barlow brother. Ronnie was still sitting there on the ground and he was watching his brother and the blonde girl with fiery interest in his eyes. She smiled at him and then she started to lick her way up and down the other twin's shaft.
She lifted the cock and worked her tongue down the underside of the thing and she heard him sigh to the moon. She licked the clean, reddish balls, the balls with the clean, purifying fire.
And then she moved her mouth back to the cock and sucked on it. She sucked on it and listened to the boy moan to the moon.
Then she knew that he was ready, and she knew that she was ready too. Her cunt was throbbing and flooding with juices, and she knew that she was being turned on because this was a brand new experience for her, an experience with two boys who were much like each other.
And Kitty knew that the confusion would come to her when the fucking actually started. She knew that, when a cock was in her, she would not be able to tell one twin from the other, and she welcomed that fucking confusion in her head. She welcomed the cocks to her throbbing, hot pussy.
Kitty lay back on the ground and sighed to Richie, still keeping in mind for a moment that this one was Richie, was the one who did not drive a car.
"It does not matter that you don't drive a car," she said. "You can drive that hard cock into me."
And Richie lifted his face to the moon again and laughed with manly pride.
Kitty spread her legs and waited for him to come to her in that special way. She glanced again at the other twin and she saw that he was watching with tension in his body. She knew that Ronnie, the virgin outlaw, would soon learn something very great from his brother and the girl who fucked them both. He would soon learn something that was much more important than an ability to drive a car.
He would learn how to fuck a girl and make her happy while he made himself happy too.
Kitty glanced back at Richie and grinned at him.
"Come on, stud," he said. "Let's do it. Let's fuck like crazy."
And the red-haired boy moved down to his knees and approached her, approached that place between her outstretched legs, approached her with all of the firmness of his cock ready for her snatch.
Kitty reached out and touched his throbbing organ with her finger.
She smiled at the boy to give him even more self-confidence.
Was this the twin who had fucked before or was this the virgin?
Already, in her heated, sexy mind, she did not know for sure. Already, she did not care. She just knew that first this twin and then the other one would fuck her and that is all she cared about.
The Barlow boy moved closer to her and she took his cock in her hand and lifted her spread legs and pulled the thing toward her pussy, her jelly-jar of lust. That pussy craved a good fucking, and she was going to get just such a fucking.
In fact, she was going to get two of them, one from each twin.
She purred to the boy to give him a little extra male security.
"Stud," she said. "Such a stud. You are going to be great."
And the boy grinned at her and she pulled the cock into her, slipping just the tip of it into her tight, wet pussy. Then she groaned out the words that every boy wanted to hear a girl say.
"Fuck me, Stud. Fuck me good and hard, you fucking stud."
And the words worked their magic on the Barlow twin who was in her.
He leaned forward, holding himself up on his hands and knees and then he moved a little bit and worked the cock into her tight pussy with wet ease.
And Kitty, lifted her ass and wrapped her legs around his freckled body.
"Fuck me, Stud!" she cried as she looked up at the moon in the sky.
It was her moon now, she thought. She was on her back and she was looking up at it. He was looking down at her and he was grinning as he started to move the cock into her pussy with a firm, masculine force.
He was very good at this fucking, slow and hard and forceful. She tightened her legs around him even more and sighed up to that moon in the sky.
"Oh, stud, that is great. You fuck so great."
And then she heard the movement to the side of her. She looked to that side of her and she saw the other twin moving close, to study the way that his brother's cock went in and out of her, to study the way that his brother fucked this sexy, blonde girl who wanted it so badly. Was this the virgin? She wondered about that, confused in her fucking as to which twin was which.
But it did not really make any difference. No one would be a virgin by the time this night was over, she determined. She would fuck both of the boys, both the virgin and the one with a little bit of fucking experience. She would fuck them both and teach them everything that she knew about sex--which was actually quite a lot.
As she moved with the rhythm of the twin who was fucking her at that moment, she lifted her face to his and kissed him softly. They were twisting together there on that blanket, there on the sweet-smelling spot of oil. And they were fucking with delight, sweating with delight too.
And the boy speeded up his fucking as he grinned down at her. She felt his fiery, freckled sweat fall on her and that made her moan and twist there on the ground. She lay back and ran her fingers over his freckled, hairless chest as he fucked her with grace and speed. She matched his fucking motion with her own, as if they were two parts of the same, well-oiled and well-made machine.
But soon the grace was gone and there was only the animalistic passion of the fucking. He drove into her deeply and growled at her with gutteral sounds of excited male lust.
She accepted those sounds in her, accepted his growls and answered him in animal whimpers and animal moans.
The fucking became hard and loving at the same time.
And then the twin who fucked her said that word, that word that her father had used so often to tell her how much he cared for her.
"Fucking, slut," he growled. "Fucking, little / bitch."
She sighed and winced with the word. She wondered why he would be angry with her suddenly, wondered why he would say those things to her. But she accepted the words and she accepted the anger because she enjoyed such anger on the part of males.
Her father had taught her to enjoy such anger from males.
"Fucking slut," the other brother--the one who was watching so intently--said to her.
He leaned forward and whispered the word in her ear.
"Slut. Mangy, whore slut. Slut. Slut. Slut."
"Oh, God, yes!" Kitty cried aloud. "That is right! By why? Why do you say it?"
"Because that is what you are supposed to call a bitch," the one who was not fucking her told her. "Our father taught us that. There is a difference, he told us, between a whore and a lady. And we should never forget that, he said You are a whore and our mother is a lady."
"Our mother is a lady," the other twin, the one who was fucking her, echoed his brother. "Our mother is a fine lady. She doesn't even fuck our father any longer."
"Yeah," the one sitting next to her snarled, "She is a lady and you are a little whore."
The words and the teaching were sick, Kitty thought.
But she accepted the sickness in her head because she was sick too.
She accepted her whoredom because she knew that her mother--unlike Mrs. Barlow--had been a whore too. And her father called her a slut and a whore and a bitch and said that she was just like her mother. And, Kitty thought, once a whore, always a whore.
The cock slammed into her whore pussy and gave her a special heat, a whore heat, she thought. It was the kind of fucking heat that only a whore and the daughter of a whore could stand. It was the kind of fucking heat that would drive any good woman insane with fire.
But she could take it. She could take all the heat in the world.
"I'M gonna come, you worthless cunt," the twin who was fucking her said.
And she moaned to him and tossed on the oily blanket.
"Yes, come," she sighed. "Come. Shoot your hot come into my whore cunt, you stud."
She tossed on the blanket and stretched out her arms and lifted her head and tilted it back and scratched the top of her blonde head on that filthy blanket. She had an itch, an itch in her fucking, heated brain, and she wanted to get rid of that itch while that twin come in her sluttish pussy.
And she groaned to the other twin, the one who was waiting his turn in her cunt.
"Get ready," she sighed. "Get naked. Get ready to fuck my whore cunt just as your brother fucked it."
Was it the virgin that she was fucking now? Was it the virgin that she would fuck? She did not know. She did not care. She only knew that she was a whore, and that was the truth, the greatest truth of her young-whore life.
The twin who was fucking her raised himself up on his legs and lifted her body up by raising her rounded ass with his hands. He fucked her with glee and savage anger and he moaned to her as he started to come, to shoot his white goo into her whore cunt.
"Fucking slut. No-good bitch. Not as good as my mother. His mother. My mother. His mother too."
And Kitty screamed with all of the heat in her body. She felt that she was going to burst into flame at any moment. She cried out with lust and passion and humiliation that she deserved.
"I am a fucking whore! I am a fucking whore!"
And then the twin who had his cock in her growled and gasped and then yanked his cock out of her cunt. He fell back on the blanket and grabbed his organ in his hand and started to shoot his hot, white come into the air.
Kitty moved quickly. She was too fevered to let that come go to waste.
She wanted that semen in her. She wanted it to mix with the whorishness of her worthless system. She wanted to get that heat from that twin.
She moved over his cock and pressed her lips around the organ quickly and gulped down the come. She gulped it down with relish, as if it were a fine, sweet wine.
And her rounded ass was in the air as she bent over the coming twin.
She heard the other twin move behind her, but she did not take the time to look and see what he was doing. She had to milk all of the sweet, home come from that first twin, the one who might be the virgin or might not be.
"Fucking slut," she heard a male voice growl from behind her. "Not at all like my mother. His mother too."
And she felt the pain on her butt, the slapping, heated pain, the tingling pain that came from the blow that he gave her with his hand.
By then, his brother had finished with his coming.
Kitty took her mouth off the twin's organ but stayed in the same position, with her butt up in the air.
"Spank me," she sighed. "Yes, spank the whore in me. Spank me and then fuck me."
The twin who lay under her moved away from her and she could tell then that a new hand was on her ass, that a new hand was spanking her. She looked back and she saw that the naked twin had taken over th spanking while his brother, his mirror reflection, started to strip.
And the twin that she had just fucked thanked her for the fucking by being even more brutal in his spanking than his brother was. He hit her ass hard and made it tingle and put his other hand on her blonde head and pressed it down so that her face was smashed into the oily blanket. The sweet smell of the old oil almost made the girl pass out, but the spanking kept her awake, wide awake as she gasped with the hot pain that was shooting through her buns.
"Fucking whore," she said. "My brother is going to fuck you now, you fucking slut, and he knows how to drive. He knows how to drive a car and he will fuck you like you have never been fucked before."
"Yes," she sighed, speaking into the blanket and knowing that her words were muffled by that harsh thing, "yes, he can drive. He will fuck me well."
Then the Barlow twin stopped spanking her and turned her over by jerking her blonde hair. She looked up and saw that they were both naked now, both so naked and so manly in the moon-light that she could hardly stand the sight of them.
And she wondered which one of them she had fucked and which one she had still left to fuck. She wondered what they wanted her to do now.
And then one of the red-haired twins moved away from the blanket and pointed at his mirror reflection and growled at her.
"Suck his cock," he said. "Suck his cock just like you did mine, you worthless, young slut."
And Kitty rose to her knees and wondered to herself.
Was this one the virgin? Was she going to suck the virgin cock now?
And then she realized that it did not matter at all.
All that mattered to her or to the twins was that she was a fucking, little whore. She was her mother's daughter and her father's lover and she was a fucking, little whore.
She wrapped her fingers around the red fiery cock of this new twin in her life.
And she sighed as she felt the heat from her buns run through her sexy, whorish body.
Chapter Three
After Leo Blake woke up that morning, he called the coroner's office and told them that he was sick. The head coroner had laughed and said, "Don't I know it?" and then had hung up on Leo.
But he had given notice and that was good enough to keep him away from work for the day.
Then the doctor turned assistant coroner wondered what he could do with his day. He could have spent it with Kitty, he thought, but he knew that she would probably want to sleep and he did not like to be around her any longer when he was not beating her or fucking her.
He had come to believe that that was all that his sexy, teen-aged daughter was really good for, fucking and beating.
He wished that he could have been more of a kind father to her, but her presence in that house reminded him too much of his loss, too much of her mother, who had left Leo for that dance instructor. And, even though he did not want Kitty to leave him, he did not want her around him most of the time either. It was a confusing relationship that he had set up with that girl.
He got up and showered and dressed and went into his den for a drink. He had a headache and he wondered why. Then he remembered that he had cried himself to sleep earlier that morning, cried thinking of the good .times that he had shared with Molly.
He took his whiskey straight and gulped it down and let that liquor work on his headache. Then he wondered what time it was. He looked at the clock.
It was only ten o'clock in the morning. He had the whole day to kill.
And he decided that he would take a walk, perhaps go to the park near the house and sit there in the sun and overhear conversations.
Leo liked to listen to other people discuss the events of the world. He liked to overhear other people's opinions. He did not want to discuss those opinions, but he liked to listen to them.
He was constantly surprised by just how stupid most people were and how ill-formed their opinions were.
So he walked to the park and sat down and listened to the middle of a conversation between two fat men on a nearby bench. He wondered why those men were not working that day, why they were not toiling at jobs. They were both middle-aged and look like the type that should be working. Then he remembered that he was middle-aged and he was not working that day.
Leo thought about himself and those men sitting close by and he had a vision: In his vision, all the working people of Victory, Missouri, called in sick on this day, made this day, June 15, some kind of illegal holiday. Commerce ground to a halt. Plant foremen and supervisors and presidents of firms were aghast at the laziness of their workers. There were rumors of epidemics and communist takeovers. Everyone would have been fired for calling in sick, except that there was no one to take the calls. Everyone had called in sick, and everyone had come to the parks to sit in the sun and exchange their stupid opinions.
It was a nice vision, Leo thought. The kind of vision that tickled his fancy and made him wish that the whole world ran so easily and so well.
But his vision dried up in his brain as he listened to the two men talk.
One of them was telling his friend about his ideas on exercise and physical fitness.
"Once a man gets past a certain age, usually about forty, I would say," the fat man suggested, "he should give up all that running and weight-lifting and stuff. Ain't good for him. He don't need to keep in shape. Only fags keep in shape past forty."
"Huh?" his friend asked, rather absent-mindedly, and Leo wondered if the other fat man was actually listening to his friend's silly idea at all.
"Only fags keep in shape when they are over forty. Come here some morning and look at them running through here sweating and puffing like some kind of college athletes. They are all fags, every goddamned one of them. A real man don't have to do that past a certain age. He can sit there and watch TV and yell as his wife to bring him another bottle of beer."
"Guys like that don't even fuck their wives no more," the other man muttered a little sadly.
"Sure, they don't. They don't have to. They know that they are men. Don't have to fuck nobody. They aren't fags, though. They don't fuck little boys or nothing like that. These guys who run through this park every morning fuck little boys, I bet." - "Yeah," the other man said, "probably do."
"What you think of those Cubans?" the first fat man asked.
The abrupt change of subject startled the eavesdropping Leo, but he quickly got used to the new tone of the conversation. They were finished with the fags and the weight-watchers. Now they were going on to the Cubans, who had recently come into the country in boats, seeking political asylum.
Leo had never met a Cuban, and he figured that neither one of these guys had either.
But a whole bunch of them were down at Fort Chaffee, Arkansas, about a hundred miles south of Victory.
"Don't like them," the sad-sounding fat man said. "Don't like nobody much, but I especially don't like Cubans. They are too dark." "Huh?"
"Too dark! They all look like all they do is lie on the beach. Got dark skin like some sun-tanned, lazy, radical college students."
"Yeah, and they rioted down at Chaffee. You hear about that?"
"Sure. I read the papers, don't I? I heard about it. Didn't surprise me when they did that. College kids riot too, you know. It is all that sun."
Leo noticed that the two fat men were sitting in the sun as they talked about this.
But they were not afraid of sun-tans. They were both dressed in white shirts and slacks.
"Cubans and college kids," the sad-sounding muttered. "Send them all back to where they came from."
"My boy went to college," the other one said. "Got himself a degree in something or other and moved to ST. Louis."
"That's the way it is with college kids. When they get their degrees, a place like Victory ain't good enough for them. They got to move up to St. Louis or Kansas City or Chicago or somewhere like that and mix. with Cubans and god knows what else. Your son might even marry a Cuban girl, you know."
"Nope, he is already married. Married a Vietnamese girl."
"Just as bad, except you don't see a Vietnamese with a tan that often."
"This girl is white as ivory, sort of yellowish, but white."
"She will be a good wife , you know." "Yeah. I wonder how many of those Cubans are fags."
"Most of them probably." Leo stood up and moved away from them, chuckling.
He liked listening to such conversations but there was just so much idiocy that he could stand.
The two men had made him think of one thing, however. He had started to wonder if Kitty, his little, sexy Kitty was planning to go to college.
He could afford to send her to college, even on his pay as an assistant coroner, but he wondered if college would really do her any good. It had not done her mother much good at all. Molly Blake had still been a whore, even with a college education.
And she had run off with a college dance instructor, a man who had just come to town for the summer.
When Leo thought of that, the sense of loss overcame him, and he collapsed exhausted onto another park bench.
He looked around, wondering where the other people were. He wished that someone would come by and get into a conversation with someone else so that he could listen to that conversation and not think about Kitty and Molly and all the things that he had lost in his life. He touched his stomach. He was middle-aged but trim because he did not eat that much. But he was not a fag, he thought angrily. He wanted to go back and tell that fat man with the idea about men who kept trim that he was fucking wrong.
"I am not fat," he said, "and I am not a fag either. I fuck my daughter. I don't have a son, but, even if I did, I would not fuck him. I fuck my own daughter and she is a sexy, little thing and that means that I am not a fag."
But Leo could not get up and go back to that man. He could not stand up because of , the weakness in his body, the weakness that came with the sorrow that flooded him. It was his memories that caused all of that sorrow in his body, Leo thought, memories of things that he had lost for certain.
He closed his eyes and remember that dance instructor named Harry, the one who had moved into the little house next door to the Blakes. They had tried to be good neighbors, had invited Harry over for meals because Harry lived alone and probably did not eat that well, Molly explained to Leo.
Harry had been a young guy, slim and wiry and balding and he moved with a sleek grace that convinced Leo that Harry was a homosexual. For that reason, Leo had not worried about all the time that Molly started spending with her neighbor.
Leo had never been quite sure what Harry was doing in Victory in the first place. He said that he was taking off a few months from teaching to work on a ballet. But Leo did not understand why the man had picked Victory to do something like that in.
When Harry left Victory after a few weeks, he did not have a ballet with him, but he had Leo Blake's sexy wife.
Yes, Molly was still sexy even in her late thirties, still strong and young and well-formed. She had taken care of her body too and she had watched what she ate. But she did not drink like Leo did. And she did not want to" fuck Leo any longer. She said that she could not stand him being around her with his alcoholic breath, and she would turn away from him when he approached her even for a kiss.
The strange thing was that Leo did not blame his wife for doing that. He knew in his heart that she was right, that he was not really good enough for her any longer. He had been good enough in New York and he had been good enough when he had been a regular doctor but then things had started to go wrong, terribly wrong and he wound up not good enough for his wife and not good for anything much.
He was reminded of all that he was not good enough for the morning that he got up and walked into the kitchen and found the note that his wife had written for him pinned to the bulletin board there.
"Leo," she had written, "I am leaving with Harry. He dances so well and he needs me. He makes me feel young and alive. You are old and dead, Leo, and you don't need anything but your bottles of liquor."
She did not even sign it. Leo guessed that she assumed he would know that it was from her.
He had run to the little house next door in his anger and he had banged on the door. But then he looked in the window and saw that the house was deserted. The furniture was still there. It had been there before Harry, but the paintings that he had put on the walls and the books on the shelves were all gone.
They were gone and Harry was gone and Molly was gone too.
Then Leo remembered Harry's nickname. Molly had called him Blazes. He had never known why. He had never known what in that balding man had reminded his wife of fire. But he supposed now that it was the fire that Harry filled' Molly with when he fucked her. He supposed now that that fire had been more than she had ever felt with Leo.
The assistant coroner sat down on the front porch of the little house that Blazes had used in his kidnapping of Molly and cried.
He cried there in the early morning sunlight and thought that he had lost everything.
But then he thought about Kitty. Had Molly taken the girl with her? She had not mentioned such a thing in her note, but she might have forgotten to mention it, just as she had forgotten to sign the damned thing.
Leo, in a fit of anxiety, stood up and rushed to his own house and ran into his daughter's room and looked at her.
Kitty was standing in front of her mirror naked, and, when she saw her father there, she squealed and reached for her robe. She put it on quickly and closed. it around her naked body.
But, by that time, Leo had had the chance to see her, to notice how sexy the girl was.
How old was she then? Fourteen, almost fifteen.
She had matured into a sexy, young woman without Leo even noticing it.
But how many fathers did notice such a thing? Probably very few.
And she had been admiring her own sexiness, her own breasts and her own body in the mirror when he had arrived in her room.
Now she was wearing a robe and she was looking at him with her blue eyes wide with surprise. Leo looked around and remembered that he had not even been in his daughter's room for a couple of years. She had posters on the walls, posters of young celebrities that she admired and maybe lusted after. He did not even recognize any of those stars.
But he knew that they were probably famous, and fie remembered the part that a famous but dead celebrity had played .in the wooing of her mother.
And Leo asked the first question that came into his head.
"Are any of these people dead yet?" he asked, pointing at the posters.
Kitty looked around at the posters too and she shivered with the thought of death.
"No, Daddy, of course not. They are all, very famous and young."
"They will be dead one day," Leo assured her. "They will all be dead someday."
"Daddy," she said chiding him girlishly, "you are such a coroner at heart."
Then the father looked into his daughter's blue eyes and told her the great truth of that morning.
"Your mother left me this morning," he said. "I guess she left you too." .
"She left with Blazes?" the girl asked calmly.
Blazes? Kitty called the balding dance instructor by that name too?
Leo suddenly wondered how much Kitty knew about this whole situation and wondered if his daughter was some kind of conspirator in the mess that had been made of her father's life.
He was suddenly angry when he thought that his daughter, even his own daughter, might be against him.
Leo raised his hand and growled out the question.
"How much do you know about your mother and that man?"
Kitty staggered back, looking up at the hand with fear in her eyes, fear that looked so sweet to her father even at that moment. He tried to think of the last time that anyone had ever been afraid of him. He could not think of a time in his life when he had made anyone afraid of anything that he might do. He had been that weak as a man, he thought.
But he was not weak now. He felt strong and powerful with his daughter.
And he stepped toward her, with his hand still raised.
Kitty backed up and stumbled on the bed and fell backwards onto her bed.
When she fell her robe came open but she too frightened to close it, too frightened to move.
"What do you know about your mother and that man?" he asked again. "Was he a fag?" "A what?"
"A homosexual, damn it! I was sure that he was a homosexual!"
"No, Daddy," the daughter assured him. "He was not that. Mother fell in love with him."
"She told you that? She told you that she was in love with him?"
"Yes, and she said that she was going to leave with him."
"Why did she tell you something like that? You are her daughter, just a child."
"She trusted me," the daughter said, her eyes still looking up at that hand that was raised so threatening by her father.
"She trusted you," the father repeated softly, sadly.
And then he dropped his hand and turned and sat down on the bed and started to weep.
"She trusted you," Leo groaned as he put his hands over his face and cried.
Kitty sat up and put her hand on her father's shoulder. Trie father remembered the softness of her touch "at that moment. It had been years since Kitty or any female had touched him like that. For years, he had been unworthy of such a touch and for years females had avoided him.
But Kitty did not avoid him then. She held her hand on his shoulder and she spoke to him with a soft and girlish, daughter's voice.
"She wanted me to come with her and Blazes," the girl said, "but I told her that I would not do that. I told her that I would stay with you. You needed someone. I knew that."
Leo put his hand out and touched his daughter's bare leg. He meant to thank her for doing that, for staying with him because she knew that he needed her. He did need her there with him. If she had not stayed, he would have been so alone in the World that he would have probably died. He knew that his daughter was a reason for living, and he tried to tell her all of those things, how grateful he was and how he would live just for her. But none of those words came out. Instead, he heard himself ask her a question which had nothing to do with his gratitude.
"What were you doing when I came in here, Kitty?" he asked.
"What, Daddy?" she asked, knowing full well what he had asked but shivering now as she thought of what she had been doing. Leo knew all of that. He knew women well. He especially knew Kitty's mother, and this girl was the product of that whore, her mother's daughter.
"You were standing in front of that mirror and admiring yourself, weren't you?" he growled.
"Yes, Daddy," she sighed. "I guess I was."
"You guess you were?" Leo thundered. He stood up from the bed and turned and looked at her and she suddenly tried to close her robe again, but he slapped her hands and stopped them from working. She sat there with her robe open and her tits and her blonde cunt-hair showing in front of her own father.
She was sexy and she was cute and she would be a beautiful woman one day, her father thought.
But she would also be a whore, just like her mother, and she would marry some man when one of her teen idols kicked off unexpectedly. She would marry some man and then leave him for someone who reminded her of fire, someone she would nickname Blazes, someone who should have been a homosexual.
Leo looked around at the posters on the walls and wondered which one it would be. Which of these teen-aged stars would die so that Kitty could meet the man that she would hurt in a riot at his funeral?
Probably the one in the big poster that hung opposite her bed, he thought. That one was lying in a pair of cut-offs in the woods and that one was young and dark and had a slim, hairless body and pouting lips. He was the kind of young sex god who could start a riot with his death.
And Leo pointed at the poster.
"Who is that one?" he asked.
Kitty looked at the poster and then she answered her father.
"That is Bobby-" "He will die one day," Leo growled interrupting his daughter.
"Yes," she muttered, "I suppose he will." "And you will go to his funeral too." "What?"
"You will go to his funeral, just as your mother went to--" "Daddy, Bobby lives in California. He stars in movies out there. I would not be able to go to his funeral, even if he did die--" "He will die!" the father demanded.
"But he lives in California," the girl whimpered.
Leo did not say anything. He was too angry to argue with his daughter. He was the coroner and he knew a lot about death. All people die, even people in California, he knew.
Leo's brow was burning with the wrath that he felt in his body.
It was like a fever in his blood and he wanted to get rid of that fever.
He wanted to do something to work out all that anger that he felt.
And then he realized something about that poster. He realized that his daughter could lie in bed at night and look at that young, sex god and play with herself: She could make believe that he was doing things to her before she went to sleep and she would look at him as younger children said their prayers before they went to bed and to sleep.
She would pray to him? He wondered if Kitty was that much of a hedonist, if she would pray to some Hollywood star.
He looked at her as she sat there with her robe open and. he figured that she was that much of a hedonist, that, even if she did not pray to this young man in the woods, she did the teen-aged girl's equivalent to praying. She masturbated while looking at him there in his cut-offs.
Leo hated that young, Hollywood star, and he thought about going to that wall and tearing the poster down. But then he realized that he could not move. He was frozen there and his eyes kept moving back and forth, looking at his sexy, nearly-naked daughter and then looking at that sex god that she prayed to, that she masturbated to.
And he wanted the truth from Kitty. He wanted her to tell her father the truth about the things that she did at night.
Leo pointed at the poster and asked her the question.
"Do you think about him while you lie in your bed at night?"
"What, Daddy? What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean, slut!" he yelled.
And that was the first time that he used the name, the dirty word, for his daughter.
And she did know what he meant. He could tell that by the way that she blushed and looked down at the floor as she sat there on the edge of her bed.
"Do you?" he asked. "Do you think about him and play with yourself?"
"Sometimes," she admitted softly. "Sometimes?"
"All right, damn it, Daddy!" she said angrily. "I do it every night! I look at him and I think about how cute he is and I think that I would like to go out with him and kiss him! And I play with myself!" And Leo understood his daughter's fiery anger.
He had had no right to ask her such questions about what she did in her bedroom late at night. No father had such a right.
But, now that the questions were asked and answered, he could not stop himself.
He had to ask another question, an even more important one.
"Kitty," he said, letting the word bubble up from deep in his throat, "what have you done with other boys? What have you let boys do to you?"
And, again, he could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew exactly what he meant by that.
"Nothing, Daddy," she said softly. "I am a virgin, if you really care."
The voice was soft now but her anger was still there. Leo felt that anger and it chilled him to his bones.
And Leo knew that she had a right to that anger. He had hardly even spoken to her for the past couple of years. He had been too taken up with his own sense of loss and his own drinking. Now that he thought about it, he wondered why his daughter had decided to stay with him. He had never been much of a father to her. But, for that matter, Molly had never been much of a mother either. And~Leo was still angry too He could not stand thinking that his daughter would play with herself and think about that boy who was in that poster.
It was the beginning of whoredom, Leo thought, and he had no. doubt that in a few years, his daughter would be just like her mother, that she would marry some man and then hurt him by running off with some other men. He knew that Kitty could not really help being that way. It was in her blood, as it had been in her mother's blood too.
"Your mother is a slut," he said softly.
"Daddy," the girl whimpered. "Don't say that, please. Mother loved Blazes. She used to love you but now she loves Blazes and she has a right to be with--" He slapped her hard and stopped her words. He knew it then for sure. His little daughter talked about her mother's love for another man in such an understanding way that he knew she would be just like her mother, that she would hurt a man just as her mother had hurt Leo.
And Leo knew that there was nothing that he could do about it.
"You are a slut," he said firmly. "You are a slut just like your mother is a slut. I am sorry, but that is just the way that it is."
Kitty looked at him with her blue eyes filling with tears.
She did not deny what Leo said. She knew that he was right, her father thought.
Even at that young age, Kitty probably already felt the sluttish things in her system.
She had probably been feeling those sluttish things when she had stood in front of her mirror and looked at her naked, sexy body, her father thought.
Leo looked at her tits and her blonde-haired pussy again as she sat there, still with her robe open.
That was certainly the body of a slut, if he had ever seen one, he thought.
And there was nothing that he or Kitty could do about it. It would just have to be accepted, like some kind of terminal illness that could not be cured.
But, like an illness in his daughter, the sluttish quality to her body and her soul brought out Leo's rage.
It was not really a rage against Kitty, he thought.
It was a rage against heaven, but it worked itself out on Kitty. There was no one else to work it out on. Her mother was gone and Kitty was all that Leo had left.
As his rage grew, he felt his heart throb and he felt that old pain of loss come back to his head.
As his body and soul ached with pain, he heard himself give his daughter an order.
At first it did not seem that the voice had come from him, but he knew that it did.
There was no one else in the room with Kitty.
Kitty did not have anyone else but her father, just -as her father had no one else but her.
"Take off your robe, you little slut," the father said in his pain.
Kitty did not move for a moment. She just sat looking at Leo.
And then the hand came out and slapped her again.
"I said get that fucking robe off," the voice that was Leo's voice growled in Leo's head.
And he wondered for a moment if Kitty had even heard that voice.
But, when she stood up and pulled off her robe, he knew that she had heard him.
She sat back down on the bed and looked up at him. She was completely at his mercy.
And she was the only thing that he left in his life. He could not let her go.
Leo knew that he had to keep Kitty with him, even if it meant making her his slave.
And he wanted to make her his slave. That was the strange thing. He had hardly noticed his daughter for years. To him, she had just been a body around the house, some girl who cost him money to raise. But now she was going to be his slave and he was going to work out on her all of the anger that he felt towards her mother. Her mother had never been his slave. Molly had never been anyone's slave, and Leo thought that that moment that there would come a time in a few years when Molly would even leave Blazes Harry, leave him for some other man who crossed her path and started her juices flowing again.
But Kitty, the father determined, would never leave him. He would not be able to stand that. He would not be able to live in this house all alone.
Now she was naked in front of him. What could he do to prove to himself and to his daughter that she was his slave? That she was his slave and no other man's slave?
Then it came to him quickly, and he shivered with the thought.
And that voice that did not seem to his voice at all gave her the order.
"Lie down on that bed, you little slut, and look at that boy in the poster and play with yourself. Show me how you do it. Show me how you get your virgin pussy all wet with scummy juices."
And, this time, the blonde daughter did not hesitate.
She moved across the bed and lay on her back and looked at the poster and then looked at her father and her little hand ran down her naked body and fell on her young, virgin snatch.
She had to do what her father told her to do. She was his slave and he would hit her again if she stalled for even a moment. The father gulped in some air and watched as his daughter opened her firm, young legs and ran the finger of her hand around the pink lips of her pussy. He could see those lips shimmer in the sun that came in through her bedroom window, and that shimmering, that wet shining of her cunt, drove him crazy with lust and anger.
He fell on her and started to hit her with his hands, to slap her young, sexy body.
And he screamed at her with, that same rough voice that did not seem to be his.
"You fucking slut! You worthless, teen-aged cunt!"
To Leo's surprise, his daughter did not try to fight his blows.
She did not even try to turn and retreat from them. She lay there on the bed, opened and naked and let his hands fall on her in his wrath. She seemed hypnotized, unable to defend herself, unwilling to fight the father that she had decided in her girlish love to stay with.
And Leo started to cry with his anger and with his wrath, to weep as he continued to slap her. He hit her tits and her stomach and her pussy too. She pulled her hand away from her pussy and lay on the bed with her arms stretched out, like some girl who was being crucified on that bed.
Then her father did something that was so mad that it seemed strangely normal and he wondered as he did it why all fathers did not do the same things to their daughters.
He put his hand on her pussy and he jammed his finger into her cunt.
And the girl screamed as her hymen broke with the force of his jab.
The tears flooded her eyes and Leo felt the warm blood of his daughter on his finger, running over him and stilling the wrath that was in him.
He pulled his finger out of her cunt and held it up in the sunlight and studied it.
The blood was sticky and red and warm and looked strangely sweet.
He wanted to stick out his tongue and lick that blood off his finger.
But he did not have a chance to do that. By that time, Kitty was as crazy as her father was and she reached out and took his finger and pulled it down on her and put the finger in her own mouth. She sucked her own blood from her father's finger and tasted the sweet product of her own womanly rupture.
Then she took that finger out of her mouth and started to tremble on the bed.
She tossed like someone possessed by a demon, as if she were a volcano that was erupting with a great, underworld power, the power of hell itself.
"Fuck me, Daddy," she moaned in a voice that did not seem to her voice either. "I want to know what it is like and I don't want to find out from that boy in the poster. Even if I could find out from him, I would not want to. I want to find out from you, Daddy. Please, fuck me, Daddy. Show me what it means. Show me so that I can be a woman."
"Just as your mother was a woman?" he muttered.
"Just as my mother IS a woman!" she cried, emphasizing the word. "She is not dead, Daddy. She is not dead."
"She will be one day," Leo murmured to his quaking daughter.
"But she is not dead now! She is just with Blazes!"
And she continued to toss with an unholy desire in her body and to hold his hand tightly in her own hands and to beg him.
"Fuck me, Daddy. Show me what it is like. I must know what it is like."
And he could not stand in the way of her dream. He could not leave his daughter so unsatisfied. He could not leave her now. She was the only thing that he had in the whole world.
So Leo Blake unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock and was surprised to find that that cock was hard.
And he wondered about his prick. It had not been that hard in years.
Had his daughter, his naked, quaking daughter and the blows that he had given her done this to him?
And then he realized that he was truly mad, as mad as his daughter, as mad as the most demented person in the darkest corner of an asylum. And he was suddenly happy in his madness. If he could mad with Kitty, he thought, then it would be worth it all.
If he could be mad with her and fuck her, it would be worth everything that he had suffered and everything that he had lost.
Thinking that, Leo lay down next to his quaking down and pulled over on his own body and lifted up his stiff, fatherly prick.
She trembled and tossed, but she was little and light and he could handle her with ease. He lifted her up and set her down on his hard cock and he moved her down, handling her as if she were a baby again, bouncing her on his body as he had down when she was only a little girl.
But this time she was not a little girl, he thought.
And this time he was bouncing her on his cock and putting his stiff cock in her.
And this time he was going to fuck her mad cunt with his own mad, fatherly prick.
And that fucking would make everything in his life worthwhile.
Kitty suddenly seemed to calm down when that cock eased into her.
She put her hand on her firm, girlish tits and she moaned with satisfaction, like a girl who had just tasted the sweetest candy of her life.
Her father's cock was soon in her tight, little pussy.
And she moaned to her father in a quiet, girlish voice.
"Daddy," she said, "that feels so good. I think that I am being stuffed with your cock. Is that what it is like to be a little whore?"
"Yes," her father told her solemnly, "that is what it is like."
"Is this the feeling that all little sluts crave, Daddy?"
"Yes, I suppose that it is, Kitty," he groaned, feeling sad and happy at the same time.
The girl lifted her arms high over her blonde head and glanced back at the poster of the boy that was on the wall.
"I do not need him any longer," she said. "I know what it feels like to be a little slut now. Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck my slut cunt hard."
And the good father could not deny his young daughter anything.
He put his hands on her sides and held her while he started to move under her, to buck under her, to give her the fucking that she so desired from him.
Kitty moaned as her father invaded her cunt time and time again and she put her hands on his slim, hairy chest and matched his fucking rhythm with her own.
On that First morning, Leo remembered, she had fucked him like a real pro, a real slut.
And he knew that she was going to break a lot of men's hearts as she grew older.
And he knew that he was preparing her for her sluttish life, preparing her so that she would be even more of a whore, even more of a slut, even more of a cheap tramp than her mother was.
After all, Molly's father had never fucked her like this.
But, Leo thought, Molly's father had never needed his daughter as he needed Kitty at this moment.
Molly's mother had stayed with her husband all of her life and had died just two weeks after he did. Leo remembered. He had gone to both funerals and had held Molly while she cried.
And Leo felt like crying right now, as he fucked his daughter, but he was not certain if he wanted to cry out of joy or out of guilt or for both reasons and other reasons that he could not even comprehend.
Kitty ran her fingers over his chest and thrilled him with her girlish touch.
She seemed to know just what to do with a man, and Leo wondered as he fucked her, as he drove his cock in and out of her, where she had learned all of this. Then he figured that it just came naturally to his daughter, that his daughter had been born with the soul and the cunt of a slut.
And the father did not know whether to be proud of his daughter's expertise or sad because she was such a natural slut.
But then all thoughts and all confusions drained from his brain as he felt her pussy tighten even more on his cock, as he felt it try to strangle that cock and in the attempt to kill it give the prick even more life.
He fucked his young daughter with vigor and passion and love. He slammed his cock deep into her cunt and he groaned and sweated and churned there on the bed as his daughter rode him with an expert, natural skill and ran her fingers over his body and moaned to him just like a real slut would moan to one of her many lovers.
"Oh, fuck me, Daddy. Fuck my pussy. God, that feels good."
And Leo did fuck her, responding with heat to her wicked words and her natural sexuality.
And then he groaned to Kitty with that same hoarse voice that did not seem to be his own.
"I am coming, Kitty. I am coming. Get off me. I am coming."
And the girl moved quickly. She pulled herself off her father's cock and she moved to one side of his body as Leo grabbed his manly organ and choked it until he started to shoot his white semen into the air.
Kitty watched that with the fascination of a child. Her blue eyes grew big and she followed the spurts of come up into the air and then back down on Leo's body.
The assistant coroner and lonely father looked at his naked daughter as he came. .
And he came as he had not come in years. He milked what seemed like gallons of come from his randy cock, and he came and came and came.
Then, when the coming was over, he released his cock and lay on the bed exhausted by his perverted passion for his sexy, teen-aged daughter.
But Kitty did not seem tired at all. She seemed to be more filled with play than ever before, and, with a playful look in her big, blue eyes, she ran her finger through some of her father's white come and she lifted that finger--the same one that was still specked with her own virginal blood--into her mouth. She probably tasted both the blood and the come together, tasted both of the spices, the male spice of semen and the female spice of vaginal blood.
And then she pulled her finger out of her mouth and bent over and kissed her father's lips softly.
She beamed at him like the happy child that she was.
But Leo could not be sure what she was so fucking happy about.
"Thank you, Daddy,"she said cheerfully. "Thank you for showing me what it felt like and for showing me just what I really am."
"And what are you, Kitty," the father asked softly.
"Why," she said, moving up on her knees again and kneeling there on the bed, naked and girlishly proud of herself, "why, Daddy, I am a slut, just like you said."
Leo would have slapped her for saying that except that he was too tired from the fucking and too confused from what he had done to her.
And he thought that she was probably right, that he and Kitty had found some deep dark thing in her soul that morning that had been there always. And he wondered if they had also found something dark in his soul, something that had been there since his birth too.
He knew that the sex of a child was determined by the father, not by the mother.
And he wondered if it was possible to consciously fuck your wife and make a girl-child because somewhere deep in your soul you knew that, in a few years, you would want to fuck that girl-child that you had made. He thought of the way that a potter made a piece of ceramic from a blob of clay and then waited for that piece of burn to hardness in a kiln and then used that piece in his own home, for his own comfort and pleasure. And he thought that maybe he had made Kitty in much the same way.
But he was too tired and too confused to worry about why he had made his girl-child in his wife's womb. He just wanted to sleep.
Kitty crawled over and and stood beside the bed and looked at that one poster, the one that she and her father had talked about, her favorite poster of a movie star.
"I do not need him any longer, Daddy," she said softly. "I have you now."
And she walked naked to the wall and ripped that poster down. Then quickly, determinedly, calmly, she began to rip the poster into little pieces. Leo watched as she tore the handsome boy from the movies apart with a cold calmness in her hand. She tore the boy into pieces as if she were a young and sexy cannibal, he thought.
And then, when the poster was torn up, Kitty brought the pieces back to her naked dad and offered them to him.
She held them in her hands and then turned her hands over and let the pieces of the poster fall on her father and especially on his cock like a dry, paper shower.
The shower did not refresh Leo Blake, did not stop his confusion.
The man stood up and pushed the pieces of the poster off him and put his spent cock back in his trousers and zipped his pants up.
Then he moved silently to the door of his daughter's bedroom. He did not say anything. He did not know what to say to her. What do you say to a daughter after you have fucked her? I am sorry? I enjoyed it? Thanks? I love you? Do your homework now?
He had no idea what a father should say in such a situation, so he said nothing, nothing at all.
But Kitty said something. She spoke to her father's retreating back.
"You will come back to me, won't you, Daddy? You will come back and show me what it feels like again and again?"
And that voice that was not his voice, that voice that came from deep in his throat and sounded like the voice of a man who would beat and fuck his own virgin daughter, answered her as Leo Blake left the room.
"Of course," the voice croaked. "Of course, I will come back."
Leo walked out the door then and stood there in the hallway outside his daughter's bedroom and cursed himself for doing that to her, even though she had asked him to do it.
He was the father and he should have been strong, he thought. He should have been strong enough to resist the temptation.
But he had always been a weak man at heart.
And he shivered when he remembered what that voice that had been his voice had said to his daughter. He knew that that voice had spoken the truth.
He would be back. He would not be able to resist Kitty's tempting ways and he would be back to do the same things to her again and again.
And, as much as he hated himself for what he would do to her, he would enjoy it too. He knew that.
After all, he thought, Kitty was the only thing he had left in the whole world.
And she had fucked that first time like a natural-born slut.
Not even a father could have resisted a girl like that. He smiled proudly when he remembered just how sexy his daughter was.
No man would be able to resist her, he thought, and he was no different than any other man who would ever enter his daughter's life, except for one thing, one little thing that made everything a little sweeter to him, no matter how much he hated it.
That one thing was that she was his daughter and he was her father.
And that would add life to the sex in the days to come. Leo knew that even as he cursed himself and wished himself dead. He knew that there would be life in the sex with his daughter.
And he knew that that life would be the other life that he would ever have now.
He walked to his bedroom and went in and closed the door behind him.
Chapter Four
About noon that day, Jeff Morrison got a hampering for Kitty Blake's blonde snatch.
Jeff was a high school graduate, a boy of eighteen, a blond stud who was running around the town fucking all the women that he could get his hands on before he went off to college in the fall.
He did not know what had made him think of Kitty ; Blake that day. It had been months since he had fucked her.
And he had always considered the sexy, little blonde just a little crazy too.
She seemed to want abuse with her sex. He remembered that the last time she had fucked him she had requested that he call her a slut while he rammed his cock into her. Jeff had done that, hut it really did not seem right to him.
Oh, he knew that Kitty had a bad reputation at school, but he could not really consider her a slut.
He kept thinking that, if he had been a girl, he would have been a slut too.
Jeff Morrison liked to fuck girls, all kinds of girls and women. He could never get enough of them, just as he suspected that Kitty Blake could never get enough of men. He did not think of Kitty as a slut at all. To Jeff, the blonde was just a sex-loving and healthy girl, a girl who knew what she wanted in life and went out and got it.
But, he thought as he walked to her house, if she wanted him to call her a slut again today, he would gladly do it.
He would do anything that she wanted him to do in order to get the chance at her sweet cunt.
It was sweet too. Jeff had sampled most of the stray pussy in Victory, Missouri, by that summer, and he thought that Kitty was one of the best females in the town when it came to fucking. He wondered now why he had gone so long without seeing her and fucking her. He shrugged his shoulders. He figured that he had just been busy with other women. He knew that Kitty probably did not mind. She had probably been busy with other men too.
He just hoped that Kitty was home when he called on her. It would be terrible for him to get himself all worked up over that blonde sexpot and then not be able to find her at home.
He figured her father would not be at home, that he would be at work down at the coroner's office.
Jeff Morrison had to admit that he considered Leo Blake a rather strange man, and the blond, young stud wondered if that father's strangeness had had something to do with his daughter's craziness and need to be called a stud.
Jeff had learned from experience that there was a lot in the spirits of the women of Victory that hardly anyone ever suspected. He figured that husbands and fathers and like were the last to suspect the strange darknesses that their women encountered when they fucked. But Jeff knew about a lot of them. He had tasted a lot of darkness in his fucking of the women of Victory. And Jeff sensed that there were even more darknesses that he had not encountered in those women.
The blond, muscled, young stud walked to Kitty Blake's house and went to the front door and knocked on that door.
The girl answered it quickly. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and she looked sexy and cute as she beamed up at him and opened the door wide for him.
He entered the house easily. He figured that she knew why he had come.
"Jeff," Kitty said, closing the door and smiling at him, "I have not seen you in the longest time. I thought for sure that you had forgotten all about me."
"I couldn't forget about you, Kitty," the young stud assured her as he pulled her to him and put his arms around her.
He kissed her lightly on the lips and then he asked the question.
"Is your father home, Kitty?"
"No," she said grinning. "Did you come here to fuck me?"
And Kitty's cheerful gaze told Jeff Morrison that she hoped that he had come there to fuck her. That was the kind of girl that Kitty was, he thought, honest and sexy and straight-forward. He wished all girls could be like her.
If they were, he thought, it would make his job as a seducer all that easier. He hated to play games with females. He preferred the ones who wanted the fucking as much as he did.
"Sure," he said with a grin. "I started thinking about you this morning, Kitty, and I just got so horny that I thought I was going to die. You are one of the best in Victory, maybe even the best, and I could not live another day without getting a little of your sweetness on my cock."
"Jeff," the girl said playfully, "you are such a charming devil. Why you could talk a girl's pants right off her. You know that?"
"I hope I can talk your pants right off you, Kitty."
And then the two, light-haired teen-agers held each other and looked into each other's eyes.
And they laughed at the sexy joke that they had shared.
Of course, she would fuck him, Kitty thought. No woman in Victory could resist the advances of Jeff Morrison. She had heard the stories about him, about the way that he was almost single-handedly servicing all the horny females in the town. Better, she thought, to say that he was doing it single-prickedly. After all, Jeff had only one cock. But it always seemed to be hard and ready to go.
She moved against the boy right then and felt the hardness in his shorts. Then she stepped back and took a good look at sexy and young and strong Jeff Morrison.
He was wearing what had become his uniform for the summer, his running shorts and his running shoes and his sleeveless, white T-shirt.
And his strong body seemed to pulse inside those clothes like a mountain that was about to explode.
Jeff was going to college in the fall on a track scholarship and he ran every morning and every afternoon.
He was a long-distance runner, but he was certainly not lonely. He had all the women in the town gasping after him as he ran by the little houses on the quiet side-streets of Victory. Just about any female in that little town would have welcomed his cock into her cunt, she thought.
And Kitty considered herself very lucky to have him with her on this afternoon.
"Let's go into my bedroom," she said softly, "and get this show on the road, you stud."
He laughed and held her hand as they walked into her bedroom.
Jeff Morrison did not worry about anyone catching them in there.
He did not worry about her father coming home early and finding him fucking his blonde, sexy daughter.
The young stud knew that Leo Blake was so strange that he might not even notice a boy fucking his daughter, even if he did catch the two of them in the act.
And Jeff was working on his good luck too. He had fucked girls and women, married women and girls with protective fathers, and he had never been caught doing it. He figured that his good luck would certainly not desert him now, not with Kitty Blake, the daughter of the strange assistant coroner.
The boy was almost brazen in his belief in his own good luck at fucking.
And he liked to communicate that brazenness to women, and he liked to let them know that he did not care about anything except their sweet cunts. He knew that that made the women feel better, more important, less lonely in this small-town world.
By now, Jeff Morrison was an expert at killing loneliness in women, at least for an afternoon.
The two teen-agers moved into the bedroom and Kitty pulled away from Jeff and matched his brazen, lucky attitude with her own hot and horny lust for that boy. She quickly pulled her T-shirt off and showed him her firm, round tits.
Jeff took the cute cue and pulled his T-shirt off too.
Then he grabbed her and pulled her toward him and kissed her with passion.
She opened her mouth and let his tongue move into her as her tits smashed against his bare, muscled, tanned chest.
The blond, stud track-star had a runner's body, with a firm, large chest and muscled legs and thin arms.
In many ways, he looked like a boy. In other ways, he was a man.
And it was that contrast of boyishness and masculine appeal that worked on Kitty and made her cunt secrete warm juices as he kissed her. She was certain that that same contrast worked on other women as well.
Jeff held her close and kissed her face and her neck. She was cool and damp and he liked that.
He also liked that first feel of bare tit against bare chest.
No matter how many times he fucked women, no matter how many-tits he felt against his chest, he always liked that first touch of forbidden flesh on forbidden flesh the most. It thrilled him to feel that softness of her tits against his strong chest, against his own hardness, and he knew that something else was getting hard too as he kissed her cool, damp flesh.
His cock was getting harder and harder in his running shorts.
Kitty felt that hardness as she moved her body against Jeffs and she liked that hardness too. She wanted to feel and see more of it, so she tore herself out of his arms and moved across the room and started to shimmy out of her shorts. Jeff watched her with eager and joyous eyes as she bared her body for him, as she showed him her naked sexiness.
When she was nude, she turned and looked at him and danced a few sexy steps for him and then she announced to him her own need, her own yearning, in a soft and sensual voice.
"I want to see you naked too," she said. "Show me your body, Jeff."
The young, blond stud moved to a chair and put his feet up on that chair and unlaced his running shoes.
He slipped out of them and then pulled his socks down.
When she saw those feet, those strong and young and handsome feet, Kitty sighed.
But she waited for him to show her all of his body, waited even after she had decided how she would start this sexy, afternoon fuck-session with the boy wonder of Victory, Missouri.
Jeff turned his back to her to tempt her and tease her a little bit, and, with his back turned, he pushed down his running shorts and showed her his firm ass before he moved to show her what she was really interested in, his cock, his meaty and hardening prick.
She watched as he moved out of his shorts and then she sighed as he stood there for a few seconds with his back turned to her and turned his head and grinned at her boyishly over his strong and tanned shoulder.
"Oh, God, Jeff," she sighed. "Show me. Show me that cock."
She had had so many since his prick that she really did not remember what his cock looked like, but she knew that it was good and handsome and sexy and strong and she knew that Jeff used that cock like a pro, just as she used her cunt as a pro too.
Jeff turned and showed him her cock as if he expected a spotlight to shine on it.
And she wished that a spotlight had beamed onto the cock when she saw it, because she thought that that prick was worthy of stardom.
It was long and thick and it hung like a heavy piece of meat between his legs and it was hardening, jerking upwards. She liked the looks of that thing.
As she studied it, she reached up and touched her tit with her hand.
And, for a moment, she almost forgot the decision that she had made just a few seconds earlier, the decision about what would be the best way to start this fuck-session.
Then that idea came to her again and she knew that she would carry through with it.
Kitty dropped to her knees and lowered herself down until she could crawl on her hands and knees toward him. Her tits swayed under her as she crawled and she felt like a dog, like a cute, sexy dog. She liked feeling that way. She wanted to be Jeff Morrison's special, little lap-dog.
She crawled toward him as he stood there naked and, when she was right in front of him, she lowered her face to his strong and masculine feet and stuck out her quick, pink tongue and licked those feet with relish. Her dog-soul jumped in her body and made her skin tingle as she licked the feet.
And --then she lay down on the floor, lay down and smashed her tits against the floor of her bedroom.
She licked the feet with even more relish, tasting the saltiness of those feet.
She ran her tongue over his toes and up the tops of his feet and she went them down with her own saliva.
Jeff looked down on her as she did that and marveled at the way that she was losing herself, becoming slave-like, animal-like in front of him. And he could not help himself. He responded to that animal-like devotion that she showed towards him. His cock grew harder and he wrapped his hand around his stiffening shaft as she worked her way up his body, up his legs. She licked his legs with her tongue and moved from one to the other, licking quickly until she reached his knees.
She was holding onto his legs, caressing the muscles in those runner's limbs with her fingers as she licked his knees and felt the power of the runner in Jeff. She worshipped that power like a slave, like a dog, like a bitch dog, she thought.
Kitty looked up at him and sighed to him and made a request that she knew Jeff could not deny.
How could any stud deny a sexy bitch-dog such as Kitty.
"Call me names," she said. "Call me vile names. Call me a bitch-dog."
And then she went back to licking his muscled, tight, warm legs. She licked the tanned flesh and waited for those names to fall on her ears and thrill her as they always did.
The names would make everything sweeter, she thought.
"Bitch-dog," he muttered with fake scorn in his voice. "Worthless bitch. Slut. Young, sexy whore."
By now, Jeff was used to these kind of requests. Kitty was not the only female who made such a request of him.
But she had been the first. He still thought that such requests were vaguely crazy, but he knew that some women in Victory needed to be treated harshly in order to enjoy the sexiness of such hot moments.
And he figured that he must be vaguely crazy too. After all, the young stud thought, when he called women by such names, his cock did get harder. Something in the names turned him on too. He could not figure that one out, but he did not really worry that much about it.
He liked being turned on too much to worry about such things.
And he liked the way that such women--women who craved his abuse and his vile names--fucked him and relieved him of his horniness when he gave them what they wanted and what he wanted too.
Jeff Morrison continued to use that vile-language on Kitty Blake with a relish in his voice.
"Fucking slut. Worthless, little whore. Piece of d6g-shit. You fucking, sexy turd."
She licked his legs and listened to the words that made her skin tingle with dog-lust.
This boy really knew how to treat a slut, really knew how to make a girl feel like a real girl, she thought.
Kitty worked her dog-mouth and her dog-tongue up to Jeffs thighs and licked them.
But she kept looking at the way that his cock was reacting to her licking. She kept looking at the way that his cock was hardening and stiffening there in front of her.
He looked good, very good, and that cock was strong and masculine. She wanted to taste that prick. She had had a lot of cocks in her mouth--even her own father's prick. But she could never get over the fine taste of shaft, the fine taste that came to her whenever she put a prick in her mouth for the first time in a fuck-session.
His legs were wet with her own saliva and she still had more to spare, to use on his manly but boyish rod. Kitty concentrated on that cock for a second and then she wrapped her fingers around the cock and stroked it and felt it pulse in her hand.
Then the teen-aged blonde knew that it was time for that ultimate, that first taste of good, clean cock-flesh. She opened her lips and moved them over the pink tip of the shaft and pressed her mouth tightly but softly around the throbbing member. She tasted the sweetness again and her mind seemed to explode with the lust that she felt for this boy who knew just how to treat a worthless, father-fucking bitch such as herself.
She sucked on his cock with a fire in her throat.
She worked her lips back and forth on the thing and felt the hardening prick batter the back of her throat. She worked feverishly. She could not get enough of that cock, of that wonderful fresh and tasty meat.
As she sucked with such slave-like diligence, Jeff Morrison touched her soft, blonde hair and continued to curse her in just the way that she wanted him to do.
And the words added to the fire in her head as she sucked on his prick.
She took her mouth off the cock and held it in her fist and licked the side of the organ. Then she smiled up at him and spoke to him softly.
"Come on my face, Jeff. I want you to come on my face and in my mouth. I want that from you first. Then I will get you up again and we can fuck and fuck and fuck, if you want."
"Sure, you little slut," the boy groaned with a grin on his face.
She wanted him to come on her, to show how dog-like she was. She wanted to accept his come and let it wash over her like a fine, summer rain. That was what she deserved, she thought. She fucked her own father and she deserved harsh and brutal treatment from every other man that she fucked-the same kind of treatment that she got from her own father.
Kitty ran her tongue down the side of the boyish, hard shaft.
And then she lifted the cock and licked the balls and felt them pulse with vigor under her girlish touch.
She continued to stroke the cock and, every few seconds, she would look up at him and smile to show him the lust that she felt in her own girlish spirit, to show him just how much she needed this refreshing shot of come that he was going to give her in just a few seconds.
She had not felt like this in a long time, she thought.
She wallowed in the whore-like, dog-like feeling that covered her now.
She wanted to feel more like a whore, to have this boy answer all the whorish questions in her soul.
And then, as she licked that cock, she thought of the other things that she wanted from Jeff Morrison, the boy stud of Victory.
She would not make her request now, she thought, but she would keep it in mind.
And, when this sucking, coming session was over, she would ask him to do it for her.
She was certain that Jeff Morrison would not deny her, not after she gave him such a fine and sexy cock-sucking.
She let the shaft come back into her mouth and sucked on it and felt the cock pulse and quake under her lips.
Kitty knew that he was going to come at any second now, and she wanted that come.
She wanted to be showered with that warm, white cock-come. She wanted to feel that heat on her face. She wanted to be his special, little whore on this special, summer afternoon. She sucked on Jeffs prick diligently and quickly and lovingly, using her lips and her tongue and her teeth to thrill him.
And then she felt that cock begin to explode in her mouth.
She caught the first bits of come in her mouth and let them roll like sweet honey down her girlish throat.
But then she quickly took her mouth off the prick.
She stroked it with her hand and let the exploding, volcanic prick fire its warm juices right onto her face.
She accepted his come onto her fresh face and felt even fresher, like a fresh whore of spring.
She opened her mouth and caught some of that come on her lips and licked her lips so that she could taste some more of Jeff Morrison's masculine sweetness. She let the come roll down her face and she took some of that semen onto her throat too, letting it warm her from the outside as the honeyed come was warming the inside of her throat too.
She loved it all and she stroked him and milked him until he was empty, until he was finished with his strong, young orgasm of lust.
Then she let go of his cock and she looked up at him with his come still shimmering on her face.
He looked down at her and smiled, breathing hard as the tension moved out of his body, the tension that she had put there and then released from him too.
She was the perfect, little whore, he thought.
And, with the come all over her face, his come, Kitty looked up at him and knew that he would not be able to deny her what she wanted from him now.
"Go get your friends," she said, "all of your friends and bring them to me."
"Huh?" he asked. He was not certain that he had heard her correctly.
"I want you to go get all of your friends and bring them to me and let them work on me, fuck me. I want all the boys and men in Victory that you know to fuck me this afternoon.
"I know a lot of guys," he said softly.
"Bring all that you can find, Jeff. Please. I will let you fuck me first, but I want all of them."
He shrugged his tanned shoulders and grinned down at her.
"All right, Kitty," he said.
And then he turned and started to get dressed so that he could go out and get all of his friends.
She wanted all of them on this afternoon, she wanted dozens of men to come and fuck her, old men and young men, rich men and poor men, fat men and skinny men. She did not care who they were, as long as they had cocks to fuck her and come to give her.
Kitty Blake had never felt more like a little whore in her whole life.
She was not sure what had brought about this great whorish feeling in her heart, why she suddenly wanted to fuck all the men that she could, one after another, until she had drained them all.
But she knew that she felt like a real, little whore, and she wanted to share her whorishness with all of the men that Jeff Morrison, could find for her. She wanted to be the greatest, little, fucking whore in Victory. She wanted to be legendary in that little town.
And she knew that Jeff Morrison would not fail her. She knew that he would go out and find many men and bring them to her house and she would fuck them all. She would fuck Jeff first, just as she had promised him, she thought.
She would fuck him to thank him for his part in making her legend.
And then she would share her legendary whorishness with every man that she could.
She knew that she could do it, that she could stand the constant fucking, even if it lasted for days.
A girl who had fucked her own father, she thought, could stand anything.
She was her father's daughter and she was a little whore and she would make sure that everyone knew about it.
As she watched Jeff Morrison leave her bedroom and her house, Kitty knelt there and thanked him silently and thanked the whorish feeling in her spirit.
That feeling would make her name legend. They would be talking about Kitty Blake in Victory for generations to come, she thought.
And they would be praising her whorishness for years and years and years.
Chapter Five
Leo Blake was still wandering through the town, nothing in particular to do that day.
He was beginning to wonder why he had called in sick at work, since he had had nothing planned. The assistant coroner just knew that it was one of those days--one of those days when he could not stand the thought of being locked into a schedule of work, when he could not stand the thought of working around all those dead people.
But the people that he saw on the streets of Victory on that June afternoon looked just as dead to him as the people that he worked with in the morgue. He wondered if he would ever be able to escape that deadliness that seemed to be all over this town. Perhaps, he thought, it was all over the world by now.
About one p.m., he picked up a newspaper and went into a little coffee shop to eat lunch and read the paper.
He did not usually care about the news, but he looked at the paper intently on this afternoon, trying to find out the secret to all that deadliness. He knew about journalists. They would not tell him the truth about the deadliness, but Leo thought that he could find some answer if he read closely and put things together and read between the lines of the newspaper.
The headlines seemed to tell him something and he tried to figure out what that something was.
"Cubans quiet after riot at Chaffee." "Singer files suit against manager." "Council decides on new sewer system." "President announces plan to curb inflation."
"Candidate says senator is a crook."
"Famous composer dead at age 73."
That was it! That was the story that would give him the truth!
Leo Blake read it carefully, trying to Figure out all the meanings of each word in the short item on an inside page. He knew that the newspaper editors had played down the article on purpose, so as not to alert the populace to the truth that filled the story and reverberated from it like an echo in a mountain canyon.
"Seamus McTeague, an Irish-born composer and author of such musical hits as "Did Your Father Fight for Ireland," was found dead Saturday morning at his home in Dublin."
Ireland, Leo Blake thought. Ireland was the place without snakes, without serpents. But it was not without violence and death, the assistant coroner thought. No one could escape death, not even in Ireland, that green and fertile country of the lilting brogue.
"McTeague had been ill for some time," the report said.
Of course, he had been ill, the assistant coroner thought. He would have to be ill when he thought about the lack of real music in today's world. No one sang those lilting sounds any more. The radio stations blared out the mum bo-jumbo that passed for music today, but that stuff did not lilt, did not have that fine sound that Irish songs had.
Another short paragraph in the article caught the assistant coroner's eye. . "For the past few years, the composer has been putting to music some of the more obscure works of Irish writer, James Joyce. None of those songs have been recorded, and record producers say that they really made no sense at all."
Bastards! Leo Blake's brain screamed at those stupid record producers.
Didn't they see that to make sense in the modern world something had to make no sense at all?
No, they were too stupid to see something like that.
Leo Blake was working up a good fury about those record producers and considering going home to work his fury out on Kitty, his daughter, when he heard a girl speak to him.
"Doctor Blake?" the girl asked.
He put the - paper down and looked up at the girl who stood there at the side of his table. She was a young girl, about seventeen, and she had long, dark hair. She looked familiar, but Leo could not place her at that moment.
"Hello, Doctor Blake," the girl said. "I am Wanda Jackson. I am a friend of Kitty's."
"Oh, yes, Wanda," the assistant coroner said, smiling at the girl.
The dark-haired teen-ager looked very sweet and sexy as she stood there in her shorts and loose blouse. Leo wondered why she had come over to speak to him. He had seen her around the house sometimes when she had come over to visit Kitty, but he had never really spoken to her.
The simple fact was that Dr. Leo Blake was a little ashamed to even speak to any of his daughter's young friends. He was ashamed because he lusted after them in much the same way that he lusted after his own daughter. When he looked at a girl like Wanda, he felt guilty, felt as if he were betraying Kitty's love for him. But now Kitty was not around and he thought that it would be all right to at least talk to this girl.
"Won't you sit down, Wanda?" he asked courteously.
"Thank you, Doctor Blake," the girl said with a smile.
She sat down opposite him at the little table and Leo felt the lust in his system as he looked at her. She was really something, he thought.
She had dark skin and she looked vaguely like a gypsy, he thought. Her mouth was wide and red and sweet-looking and her eyes twinkled with dark, merry, girlish passion.
"How are you, Wanda?" he asked. "I have not seen you -around the house lately."
"I know," she said. "I have been out of town. I went with my parents to Florida for a couple of weeks."
Why had she sat down there to talk to the man?
The answer was simple. Wanda had just met Jeff Morrison about five minutes before. Jeff had told her that he was gathering up all of his friends, that Kitty Blake was going to fuck every man that he could find. Wanda had thought that that was kinky and sexy of Kitty. Wanda, like Kitty, had a bad reputation because she liked to fuck men too.
And Wanda wished now that she had come up with a crazy plan like Kitty's, She wished that she had the courage to go over to the Blake house and lie down next to Kitty on a bed and take on all the men of the town too. But she knew that to do that would not be fair to her friend. Kitty had come up with the plan and she deserved the fame that she was going to have around the town after this afternoon was over.
Arid then Wanda had come into this tittle coffee shop and had seen Kitty's father sitting there.
And the dark-haired beauty had come up with a plan of her own.
If Kitty was going to fuck the whole town, she thought, the least that she could do was fuck Kitty's father and keep him busy so that he would not be going home and interrupting Kitty's legendary act.
And she had always thought of the little man was strangely sexy in a lost sort of way.
Wanda could also tell by the way that he was looking at her that he thought that she was sexy too. She had been looked at that way by many men before, and she was sure that many other men would look at her that way before she grew old and haggard.
Before she grew old and haggard, she thought, she would like to have as many men and boys as possible in her pussy.
And she thought that this afternoon she would like to have Leo Blake fucking her.
"I just saw you sitting here," she said to Dr. Blake, "and I thought that you might like some company."
"Well, thank you, Wanda,"the man said, feeling very cheerful in her company. "I appreciate having a pretty girl to talk to on a nice afternoon like this."
"It is a nice afternoon, isn't it, Doctor Blake?"
"Please. Call me Leo."
"Leo."
"Yes, it is a very nice afternoon, and it has grown even nicer in the last few seconds, since you joined me here."
Wanda smiled at the man and batted her eyes at him. Leo felt his cock give a little jerk in his trousers. This girl" was really sexy, he thought. She had life in her, more life than he had seen in anyone all day.
He just wished that he could fuck her this afternoon, but, even as he thought that, Leo decided that he did not have much of a chance at that celestial thing. This girl would probably not be interested in a dried-up, old man like him. She could have all the young boys that she wanted there in Victory.
So he was surprised when she made her little proposition.
"I thought that it might be fun to go out by the lake this afternoon and sit for a little while the sun. Would you like to come with me, Doctor-uh, Leo?"
Leo could not believe his ears. This girl wanted to spend an afternoon by the lake with him?
"Certainly," he said, "I am not working today. I think it would be nice to spend some time at the lake with you, Wanda."
He said all of those things quickly, agreeing before she could change her mind and get up and leave him far behind her as she went out in search of youth and more life than Leo could offer her.
"Let's go," Wanda said. "I have a car. We will drive out there in my car, all right?"
"All right," Leo said.
As he paid his bill and walked out the door with Wanda, Leo remembered that he had not had a drink for hours, since early that morning, after his brutal session with his daughter. His body felt good and alive because it was not dulled with alcohol. Leo thought that, if he could have a girl like Wanda with him always, he would gladly give up drinking altogether.
She was driving a little sports car, a cute, little, yellow job.
When he saw that car, Leo remembered that Wanda's parents had a lot of money and that she was an only child, just as Kitty was an only child.
The father found himself wishing that he could buy his daughter a pretty, little sports car that was yellow like the sun.
And then he remembered that he had even refused to let Kitty learn to drive.
And Leo knew that he had been wrong in refusing his daughter that simple, teen-aged pleasure.
He got into the sportscar with Wanda and felt the wind blow through his hair as the car took off down the street. He felt happy and young with her, and he was heading for the lake. He had not been to the lake in years, since the happier times in his life when he and Molly and little Kitty had gone there for family picnics. That had been years ago, before things started to go wrong in his life.
But now he felt as if nothing could go wrong on this afternoon, not as long as he was with Wanda, not as long as she protected him with her dark-eyed, lively youth.
He wondered what other people would think if they saw him zooming through town in that little car with that sparkling, teen-aged girl. Would they think that Leo Blake had finally gotten some life into him again? Would the middle-aged men on the street envy him? Of course, they would. He glanced at the girl who drove with such a cheerful look on her face. Any middle-aged man would give up ten years of his life to spend one afternoon with this fiery, wealthy, gypsy girl, this girl so filled with youth and vitality.
No, he corrected his thoughts. They would not have to give up ten years of their lives.
Wanda would probably add ten years to a man's life in just one afternoon, add it with her youthful zest. It was impossible to be around the girl and not feel young and alive and well in this crazy, modern world.
Leo remembered that he had left his newspaper in the coffee shop. He had been searching for truth in that newspaper when she had walked up to him, but now he knew the truth. Or, at least, he was close to it. Wanda seemed to bubble over with youthful truth about the world, and he was certain that she would give him part of her truth before the afternoon was over. She seemed packed with truth, absolute and young truth.
Wanda kept glancing at the man as she drove to the lake. She knew by then that she would have no trouble with him. The man was slightly crazy, just as his daughter was, but it was a good kind of crazy, a sexy kind of crazy that Wanda responded to with happiness. She liked those crazy men. They were easy for her to handle and they were especially easy to fuck, she thought.
Those crazy men had some inhibitions, of course, but she could talk them out of those inhibitions in just a few seconds, with a few soft, obscene words, with a few touches of her hands on their crotches.
Wanda loved those crazy men. She wished that there were more of them in Victory.
When she graduated high school, the girl thought, she was going to move to a big city and find all the crazy men that she could. She was going to go a little crazy with those crazy men and she was going to have herself a ball.
She zoomed to the lake in her little car and stopped the car in one of her favorite spots.
It was a quiet, little place at the edge of the lake, a place that was covered with sunlight on this soft, summer day. She turned and grinned at Leo and moved out of the car.
Leo got out of the car too and walked with Wanda to the edge of the water. The girl looked around. There was no one else out there. It was a weekday afternoon. She figured that everyone else in Victory was working, earning their daily bread. Only she and Leo Blake were really free on this beautiful day.
She turned to Leo and grinned impishly as she asked him, "Do you swim?"
"Yes," he said, "but I haven't in a long time."
"You never forget, you know. Once you know, you never forget. It is like sex."
He laughed at her little joke and felt warm because he sensed that this girl had made such a joke on purpose. He let that joke sift through his mind, trying to figure out the truth of her statement, the young and vibrant truth of what she had said.
Once you learn, you never forget. Never forget. Never forget.
In Leo's mind, she seemed to be talking about more than just swimming or even sex.
She seemed to be talking about everything in the world, everything that a man could learn and never forget.
"Let's go swimming," the dark-haired beauty said cheerfully.
"But we don't have any suits," Leo muttered with a bit of fear and anxiety in his voice.
"There is nobody else around. Let's skinny-dip, Leo. It will be fun."
And she did not wait for him to agree with her. She knew that she had this man, her friend's father, under her control. He could not escape her and he would have to do what she told him to do.
She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. She was not wearing a bra.
Her tits were firm and pointed and Leo gasped and swallowed hard when he saw them.
And he watched with eager eyes as Wanda kicked off her shoes and loosened her shorts and pushed them down her long, dark legs. Then she turned around and grinned at him. "Come on, Leo," she said. "Be happy. Let's go swimming."
Be happy. That was the key, he thought. That was what he had learned once. He had once been happy, and he could not forget how to be happy. Once he had learned, he could never forget.
The man grinned at the girl and started to unbutton his shirt. He started to laugh as he stripped. He was truly happy, he thought, happy for the first time in a long time.
When Leo laughed, Wanda laughed with him, and the air was filled with young and happy sounds.
He took off his clothes quickly and- then Wanda reached back and took his hand.
Together, naked, they dashed into the lake. The water was cool and the sun was warm and they were very happy.
They released each other's hands and they swam. Wanda swam with a strong ease, cutting through the water. Leo used all of his strength to keep up with her, but he was able to keep up and that made him very proud of his masculine youth, the youth that was flashing back into him, the youth that she was giving him with her own youth.
He thought about his daughter and he sensed that their relationship would be different after this afternoon. But he did not know how it would be different. He just thought that he would better be able to relate to Kitty after spending the afternoon with her young friend and feeling that joy that he had forgotten in his life.
They swam to the middle of the lake and then they swam back and Wanda and Leo got out of the water and ran, laughing, to the soft grass that grew there by the lake.
Wanda lay down in the grass and let the sun warm her tits and her her cunt as Leo lay down next to her. She looked down at his cock. It was wet and looked fresh and sexy. She knew that he would not fight her. So she reached out and took him into her arms and kissed him, pulling him toward her.
They would fuck. There was no doubt about that.
But, before they fucked, there was something that Wanda had to know, something that had bothered her for the longest time. She had asked her parents about Leo Blake, about his lost sadness, and they had told him that something had happened to him years before, something that had_ caused him to give up being a doctor, to start drinking. That something had led him down the road to ruin. And Wanda felt that she had to know what that something was before she could fuck the man and help him regain something that he had lost. She wanted to help him regain that something. She wanted to help him and her friend, Kitty, by fucking the man and letting him know that life was still possible in the world, real and wonderful life.
"Why did you start to drink, Leo?" she asked softly, looking at him and holding him close to her.
She knew that he could not refuse to tell her, not after they had swam naked together.
"It was a tragedy," he said. "A secret tragedy."
"Tell me, Leo. I can keep your secret for you. I won't even tell Kitty. But I have to know what happened to you."
Leo did not say anything for a few seconds. He had not spoken of that secret tragedy for years.
But as he felt that girl's body against his he knew that he would have to speak of it now.
And he sensed that it would help him to speak of his secret tragedy.
"About seven years ago," he said softly, "there was an accident on the highway outside of town, a bloody automobile accident. I came driving by that accident right after it happened and I jumped out of the car to help those people who were moaning and screaming in that automobile. The car had run into a wall and it was smashed up terribly and the people were caught in the car. I was a doctor, and I was supposed to help them in any way that I could. I was supposed to remain calm under pressure."
He paused and felt the tears come into his eyes as he talked about it, but he also felt something else. He felt a certain freedom coming to him even then. He knew that the telling of this story in this situation, telling this fiery, lovely, dark, naked girl what had taken the youth from him, would somehow save him from his own desolation.
"There was a man and a woman and a little baby in that car. The baby was crying, and the woman was screaming for someone to save her child. I looked in that car and I saw that the man, who had been driving the car, was already dead. I won't tell you the gruesome details, but there was blood and terrible death everywhere in that car. I should have helped them, though. I could have saved the woman or, at least, the child. But I did not do anything. I just froze. I don't know why. I think it had something to do with all the noise, all the screaming and the crying. It pierced my brain like swords. I had to get away from that noise. I turned and I ran back to my car. There was no other car on the highway. It was after midnight, and I knew that no one had seen me stop. I just got in my car and drove away and left them screaming and crying there. I really did not even realize what I was doing. I did not think about anything until I parked my car in my driveway at home a few minutes later. Then I started to weep and I knew that I had failed as a doctor and as a human being. I read in the paper the next day that all three of them were dead when a trucker came along and found them and I knew that I had killed that woman and that baby, that I had murdered them. But I never told anyone about it, not any of my friends and not even my wife. I never told--" And then Leo started to weep like a baby and Wanda pulled his head toward her bare breast and held him close as he cried.
Leo cried and cried for several minutes, but Wanda continued to hold him, almost like a mother would hold a child. She wanted to do good for this man. She wanted to make his life happy and she thought that she was helping him by holding him as he drained himself of tears.
Then Leo Blake stopped crying and looked up at his daughter's girlfriend and smiled.
"I feel better now," he said, "much better. It is good to tell someone your secrets."
"Yes," Wanda said. "It is good to tell someone. That way it does not hurt that much any longer. That way you do not feel so alone."
Of course, Leo had another secret that he could tell the girl if he wanted to.
And he wondered if he should tell her about the things that he did with Kitty.
No, he finally decided, that would be too much for her on this sunny afternoon.
One secret at a time, he thought, one secret at a time.
He needed something more from her now. Now that he had told her his secret and felt the tears wash the bitterness and the loss out of him, he needed to fuck her.
And Leo Blake knew that he would be able to fuck this girl with love, not with wrath, that he would be able to be gentle with her, gentle and caring, like a man should be with a girl.
He lifted his face and kissed Wanda passionately on her wide, red lips.
And she turned and moved with him there on the soft, green grass, there on the good earth.
The girl and the man held each other close and tumbled on that good earth.
They turned over and over and they started to laugh as they rolled in the grass.
Leo felt his cock getting hard and she felt it too. It was locked between them and they trapped it with their own, wet, naked bodies. Leo liked to feel it trapped in there. He wondered if his new, youthful cock, filled with the youth and the happiness that this girl had given him, could escape the hold that they had put on the thing.
Then they stopped rolling, and he knew that they would not allow the cock to force them open. Like lazy but good-natured prison guards, they would let the prisoner escape.
Wanda moved off the man's body and the cock jerked up with a mighty force.
But it not quite hard enough to fuck just yet.
Wanda knew how to get it that hard, knew what she wanted to do for this man--the father of her friend, the man who had suffered so much in his life.
She slid down his wet body and moved her face over his loins.
She opened her wide, red mouth and sucked that prick into her mouth with a girlish, almost lazy motion. And Leo sighed as he did that. He looked down and he saw her raised her legs up behind her and he thought that she looked like a little girl at that moment, a little girl who was lazily sucking on a cool piece of candy on a hot summer afternoon.
He liked thinking of her that way. She was his daughter's friend and she did not know it but she was changing his relationship with Kitty even at that moment. She was changing his relationship with all women by letting him work out his secret on her and letting him fuck her with lust and not wrath.
She sucked on the pole with a nice, cool motion of her red lips, and the cock got bigger and stronger there in the caverns of her wet insides. There were other caverns to her too, Leo thought. And soon that cock would be exploring those caverns too, soon that cock would be filling her pussy with delight and power and happy, manly force. She wanted it and he wanted it too.
They were like two new people, people risen newly from the good earth and wallowing there on their mother, the earth, in the bright, warm sunlight of the summer's day.
Wanda took her mouth off Leo's cock and kissed it softly with her lips. Then she moved onto her back and she pressed her finger against her own wet pussy and she sighed to him with words of girlish lust, words that sounded like a new and happy language to Leo.
"Fuck me, Leo," she said. "Fuck me and make me happy with your happiness."
And she was right. He was happy now and he was going to make her happy by fucking her and giving her what she needed as much as he did. She was such a sexy teen-ager and she was so filled with life and Leo felt filled with life and youth and sexiness too as he moved over and felt her legs go up and around his body as his hard cock--the prick that she had sucked so well--slipped into her warm, wet, young pussy.
He slid into her easily, with lust in his heart, and he heard her whimper as he invaded her.
This was the way that fucking should be, he thought, soft and yet hard, passionate and yet gentle too.
He had forgotten that over the years that he had been brutalizing Kitty.
But, like Wanda had said, once you learn you never really forget.
And now that he was reminded of the way that fucking should be when it was really good, Leo Blake knew that he would be able to fuck her with a manly passion that did not hurt but only fulfilled--both her and him.
And the good doctor determined that he would fuck his daughter that way too and show her just how good gentle and passionate sex could be. He would not treat Kitty like a slut or a whore. He would treat her like a lover. He just hoped that it was not too late to un-do the damage that he had already done to his blonde daughter's tortured soul.
He started to fuck Wanda, move his cock deep in her and then pull it back again. He fucked her slowly and gently and regularly as the girl heaved on the good earth and tightened her legs around him and sighed to him with her own soft passion.
"Leo, you fuck so well. Oh, good, Leo. That is good fucking."
And Leo was happy that he was making her happy, was pleasing her with his cock.
The two of them rocked on the ground as Wanda curled her body and took all of Leo's stiff prick into her deep, wet, young cunt. She sighed and tensed her body and then relaxed and she matched the fucking rhythm that Leo gave her with her own girlish rhythm.
It was the perfect kind of slow, peaceful, almost lazy fucking, perfect for such a warm and bright and lazy summer's day.
Their bodies were still wet from the water in the lake.
But then another wetness took over their bodies, the wetness of sexy sweat. The drops of perspiration dropped from Leo's thin body to Wanda's and he watched that perspiration mix with her own in the shining light of the sun. Wanda sighed and reached up and put her hands on his shoulders and then she requested a new kind of fucking, a fucking that would get them both off.
"Now, faster, Leo," she said, grinning up at him as his cock stuffed her pussy, "faster and harder and deeper. I want you to come in me and I want to come too."
And it was such a sexy suggestion that Leo could not refuse her. He knew that she was right. She was the one who had given him this new, youthful, almost innocent vigor, and she would not lead him astray.
He speeded up his fucking and drove into her pussy, deeper and harder than before.
And he felt even more manly as he did that, as he fucked her just the way that she had told him to fuck her. It was wonderful to feel that wet snatch grab onto his cock, he thought. It was as if her cunt had a mind of its own and wanted to keep his cock in her forever and ever.
Wanda growled with girlish passion and again matched his fucking rhythm, the new speed and the new roughness that charged into her. She tossed and rolled there" on the ground and she spoke to him with a voice that was newly hoarse, but sweet too.
"Oh, yes, Leo," she gasped. "Fuck me. Fuck my pussy. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me."
And he fucked her with everything that he had to offer. He knew that it would be enough. He had gotten so much from her, learned so much from her, that he knew he could please her in this harsh and manly way, this rough but sweet way.
He growled and chortled deep in his throat and he slammed his cock into her as he felt his cock pulsing. He knew that he was going to erupt in her at any second. And so he warned her, told her that he was nearing the climax of this summer afternoon.
"I am going to come, Wanda," he sighed.
"Yes, come in me, Leo. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me just like you fuck Kitty."
And Leo was shocked for a second, shocked that she knew about what he did with his daughter. But he was too nearly gone with his own fucking to stop. His cock slammed into her again and again. He fucked her with passion and wondered how many others knew-- And then he came. He came with a growling sound and a tensing of his ass as he slammed the prick deep into Wanda and shot his hot come into her insides. She twisted on that ground and came too, shivering and sighing and feeling the heat and the coolness and the other things that a girl feels when she reaches her own orgasm.
This man fucked his own daughter, fucked Kitty as he had just fucked her, she thought. And thinking that made her orgasm even greater.
But what Leo was thinking as he shot his wad into her contrasted with her own heated thoughts.
He was thinking that the fucking that he had given this girl had not really been like the ones that he had shared with- his daughter at all. Even at Ins roughest point in the fucking, he had not been cruel to Wanda, as he had been so cruel to Kitty. Even as his most manly, he had still been a lover. He had not struck the girl or beaten her. He had given her only young lust and come deep in her pussy.
When the fucking was over, Leo pulled his cock out of her and dropped on Wanda's dark and sexy body.
And then he had time and energy and enough mental force to ask her the question.
"How did you know? How did you know about me and Kitty?"
"Kitty told me," Wanda said. "She did not tell me the details. She just mentioned it one night."
"Does she hate me for doing it to her?" Leo asked like a worried father. .
"No, Leo, Kitty doesn't hate you," Wanda assured him.
"She doesn't? She has every right to hate me, you know."
"She loves you Leo. She is glad that she decided to stay with you and not go with her mother. She loves you very much, Leo. And I think it is nice that you fuck her. Sometimes I wish that my father would fuck me, but he is too busy making money to even fuck my mother any longer."
Leo lay on her body and knew that this girl did not know everything.
He knew that some of the things he had done to his daughter were not nice at all.
And he resolved again to go back home and show Kitty just how good sex could be, peaceful and passionate sex, not the brutal sex that he had shown her before..
He just hoped that it was not too late to save her.
He just hoped that he could show her that he could be a truly loving father once again.
He would fuck her with gentleness, just as he had fucked Wanda, he decided.
And then he would sit down with her and listen to some music, to a record player, like the man with the daughter in the advertisement that he had once seen. That would show Kitty that he had changed, that he had become a good father once again.
He would stop on the way home and buy a little record player for her and some albums.
They would be a gift for her, a gift to a good daughter from her loving father.
Leo lay on Wanda's wet and sexy body and hoped again that it was not too late.
Chapter-Six
Kitty had lost count.
She did not remember if this made ten or eleven men who had been in her pussy already.
But she figured that it did not make any difference, since she did not even know this man at all from Adam. She had never seen him around Victory, and, now, as she rode his body with his cock stuck up her pussy, she looked down at him and she sighed out the question.
"Where did you come from?"
"What?" the man moaned, fucking her with passion, working his hips up and down and piercing her with his sword.
"Where did you come from? I don't remember seeing you before."
"I was just passing through," the man said. "I am a salesman. Hope it is all right."
"Sure," she said, feeling the cock drive into her pussy. "Sure it is all right."
The man had a cock and that cock was hard, just like the other cocks that waited for her. The other men were sitting around the living room and smoking cigarettes and talking and some of them were even standing outside, waiting their turns. They all had cocks, and Kitty was making history with those cocks.
Sure, she thought, it was all right that this salesman had joined them, had become a part of history on a day when he was just passing through this small Missouri town. He would probably tell all of his friends about it back in his office in a few days and the friends would not believe him.
It would be too good to believe, Kitty thought, but it would be true, as true as true as history itself.
Jeff had found forty-six men and boys, he had told Kitty when he had fucked her.
Just as she had promised the blond stud, he was the first in her pussy that afternoon.
But now she knew that there were more than forty-six out there.
The word had spread through all the pool halls .and taverns in town that Kitty Blake was making history that day and the men had come running. She thought that she might fuck a hundred of them by the time that this day was finished.
And the teen-ager wondered if she could really make it through all of them.
She wanted to make it through all the men who wanted her, but she was already getting very tired and she was only at ten--or was it eleven?
She decided that she would have to take a quick shower after this one, though. She was sticky with sweat and come, and she knew that those men would wait out there.
She heard a man yell outside the door to some other man.
"Take a number! You have to have a number! We are doing it by the fucking numbers! Jeff, make up a number for this fellow!"
And she picked out other cries of good fellowship as she fucked away in the bedroom. "Charlie, haven't seen you in a coon's age!" "When did you get out of jail, Merle?"
"Let me see that new tattoo you got there. Buddy."
"Yeah, it's true. The little slut is taken all of us on."
When she heard a man call her that, she sighed and knew that he was right.
And she knew that she was proving it to every man in Victory today.
Kitty felt as if some she had taken off some disguise that she had been wearing all of her life. She had shown a few boys and men her true self, but she had never shown her real form to so many men at once. She was amazed that so many wanted to see her for what she really was. She would have thought that at least some of them would have staggered back in horror at the sight of her sluttish form, staggered back with their hands over their eyes, afraid to look because they knew that this much truth would make them blind. But no one had staggered back yet. They had all been content to let her suck their cocks and then fuck them.
"I'm going come," the man who had just been passing through growled.
"Well, come, goddamnit," she said, slurring her words with a tired sort of lust. "Come in my cunt pussy and then get back to your fucking selling."
The salesman growled and tossed and held her down on his cock and came in her pussy, came with a few short shots.
A few minutes, he had putting on his clothes and he turned to her with his wallet in his hand.
"How much do I owe you, honey?" he asked.
Kitty's face turned red with anger and she bounced off the bed and almost attacked him right then and there.
"Listen, fucker," she snarled angrily. "I am a slut. But I am not a fucking prostitute. I don't want your shitty money. Get the fuck out of here."
And then she stormed by him and opened the door and looked over the sea of male faces. All of those faces were leering at her naked body.
"Gotta take a quick shower, boys," she said. "But I will take up right where I left off in five minutes."
Then Kitty saw Jeff Morrison sitting there and she knew that she had put him in charge in a special sort of way. So she asked him the question that was most on her mind at that very moment.
"Jeff," she asked, "which one was that, ten or eleven?"
"Jesus, Kitty," the young stud said with a grin. "That was number sixteen."- "Sixteen," she repeated, surprised at her own ability. No wonder she needed a shower. "Must have dozed off there for a minute."
And some of the men who were standing close to her laughed at that.
One of them reached out and touched her bare tit as she moved toward the bathroom.
But somebody yelled at that grabber.
"Hey, fucker, wait your fucking turn!"
Kitty stood naked at the door to the bathroom and looked back at Jeff.
"Get number seventeen in there," she said.
And then Jeff stood up and started to call across the rooms of the house.
"Number seventeen'! Number seventeen!"
Mister Steiner, the little Jewish grocer with the thick glasses, looked down at his slip of paper and then fought his way through the crowd.
"Seventeen. Seventeen," he gasped. "That is me. That is me for sure."
"Let me see your paper," Jeff said.
Kitty tried the knob to the bathroom door and found it locked. She banged on that door.
"Hey, let me in there, fucker!" she yelled. "I need to take a shower!"
She heard the toilet flush and then the door came open as a man stood there, fastening his pants and mumbling.
"Fuck," he said, not even noticing the naked girl as she moved past him into the little room. "Can't even answer the call of nature in this lucking mad-house."
Kitty pushed the man out of the way and slammed the door and shut it.
And then she almost collapsed on that bathroom floor. She staggered back and sat down on the bathtub and knew that that man had been right. It was a madhouse out there. Jeff was trying to keep control of the chaos, but there were just so many of them out there and they were all waiting. If she did not hurry, she thought, they would lose their patience and then they would start tearing stuff up. She did not want that to happen. She did not want her father's things destroyed.
She stood up and turned on the water in the shower and stepped into it. The water felt good as it pulsed over her naked body and cleansed her and eased her. She closed her eyes and let the ease run through her.
Kitty was suffering a little bit. She had to admit that to herself.
But a girl had to suffer just a little bit in order to make history, even in a small town like Victory, which did not have much history at all.
The truth was that she had not expected so many of them. She thought that Jeff would be able to find ten or twenty men, but there must be a hundred of them out there and she knew that there would be more, too. She knew that when the plants changed shifts other men, working men would hear about her race for historical recognition and they would come over to the house by the dozens.
Kitty did not know how many of them she could take, but she determined to fuck men until the last bit of strength was sapped from her body.
But she had to get out there and get to work, she thought.
She turned off the shower and reached for a towel and quickly dried her naked body.
Then she moved with more ease to the bathroom door and opened it. She moved through the crowd of cheering men and waved at them as she headed back to her bedroom, the room where history was being made.
Jeff looked up at her and spoke as she went by him.
"Mister Steiner had to leave suddenly. He had to sign for a shipment of meat."
"Oh," the girl sighed, "that's too bad. He was sort of cute."
"Well, I sent number eighteen in there. He should be ready for you now."
"Okay, Jeff," Kitty said, bending over and kissing the boy's hairless cheek. "You are a real darling."
"So are you, Kitty," he said.
She opened the door and looked into the room. She paused and looked at the man who stood there naked, waiting for her.
It was Jim Jenson, the father of her friend, Wanda.
"Hi, Kitty," the man said, smiling at her in a strange way. He was very friendly, the girl thought, too friendly to be standing there naked. He was the father of her best friend and he was speaking to her as if he had just run into her at the supermarket.
She was a little angry with him. He was Jim Jackson. He should not have come here and taken a number, she thought. He was too good for that in Kitty's mind.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" she asked, letting the anger show in her voice.
"I heard about what you were doing and I thought that I would--" "Jesus, Mister Jenson, I don't know if I can do this with you. I mean, you are Wanda's father."
And then it was Jim Jenson's turn to get angry. He growled at the little blonde in his naked fury.
"Listen, you little bitch. You are fucking all those other guys and you can sure as hell fuck me too. I know about you and I figure my daughter is a whore too. But I won't fuck her.
I couldn't do that. I can fuck you, though. I got my number and I am fucking you, Kitty." He could not fuck his own daughter. Kitty wondered why he had said that.
Had Wanda told her father about what Kitty and her father did on some mornings when Leo-No, the blonde thought. She could trust her friend.
And she knew that Jim Jenson was right in a way. He did have his number, and she could not reject him.
After all, she knew most of the other men out there who were waiting to fuck her.
Jim Jenson was really no different from any of the others.
"All right," the teen-ager sighed, surrendering to the man's wrath. "Let's do it. How do you want to start?"
Jim Jenson stood there and grinned and pointed' at his meaty cock. She knew what that meant.
Why did they all want their cocks sucked first? She wondered that. She would have thought that many of those men would have been erect when they got into the room, would have been hot to fuck her just with the excitement of the historical event. But, no, everyone wanted his cock sucked. It was like part of her duty, the blonde thought. That is the way that the men who entered her bedroom seemed to look at it She guessed that it was part of her duty, her duty as a slut.
The girl moved toward the naked man and dropped on her knees in front of him. She knew from experience that men liked to have their cocks sucked by girls who knelt before them when they stood up. It gave them a sense of power over the girl. And she guessed that they were right to want that sense of power. She certainly could not control those men who came into her room this afternoon. The only one who came close to controlling them was Jeff Morrison with his numbers that he made them take. Kitty felt like a servant-girl, a slave to every man in that fucking town.
And she was especially a slave to Jim Jenson at that moment. She could not get it out of her head.
As she lifted his cock and opened her mouth and moved toward that piece of male meat, she thought of it again.
This was the father of Wanda, her best friend in that town.
She thought about what Jim Jenson had said about his daughter and she hated the man for saying that. He had said that Wanda was a whore too, but Kitty knew that he was wrong. Wanda was not a whore or a slut like Kitty.
Sure, she fucked boys and she liked it but she did it with an eagerness and a life that kept her from being a whore. She did not have the same sense of her own failure as a woman that Kitty had.
Kitty knew that she deserved bad treatment from men.
But she also knew that Wanda deserved good and graceful fuckings, the kind that men gave to good women and good girls.
There was that very important difference between her and Wanda, but Kitty doubted that she would ever be able to figure out a way to explain that difference to Jim Jenson. The father would never know just how good his own daughter was.
The blonde pressed her soft lips around the man's cock and started to suck on it.
She put her hands on the back of his legs and she worked back and forth on that prick.
Kitty felt Jim Jenson touch her own blonde head, and she heard him moan as his cock got harder and harder.
Then the father of her best friend said something that shocked her and made her shiver with anger and fear for her own best friend. She heard the words and they seemed to echo through her tired and wasted head.
"Suck that cock, little girl. Suck Daddy's cock," Jim Jenson said. "Daddy wants to come in your fucking mouth, you little bitch. Suck Daddy's cock and let him come in your pretty, cock-sucking mouth."
Daddy? He was thinking that it was Wanda down there sucking on his cock!
And then it all became clear to the blonde who knelt there in front of the man.
That was why he had mentioned not being able to fuck his daughter. That was why he had really come there to make Kitty suck his cock. He had done it because Kitty was Wanda's best friend and he knew it.
That bastard wanted to fuck Wanda, but he did not have the courage to do it, Kitty thought.
So he was going to make Wanda's best friend suck his cock and he was going to close his eyes and make believe that it was his daughter down there, moving back and forth and feeling his meat harden and stiffen in her whorish mouth.
But Kitty was not Wanda! The blonde wanted to scream that out.
She wanted to tell the father that Wanda was better than she was. She wanted to tell him that she was a whore but that Wanda, his daughter Wanda, was a good girl, a girl who liked to fuck in a healthy, sexy way.
Kitty hated Jim Jenson for his fantasy about his own daughter.
And the blonde realized then that all fathers were alike. It was just that some of them, like her father, were crazy enough or courageous enough to go ahead and fuck the little sexpots that they had produced with their come and other fathers, like Jim Jenson, did not have the guts to go ahead and do what they wanted to do, to go ahead and fuck their daughters' pussies.
Kitty suddenly thought that her own father was a much better man than Jim Jenson could ever be.
At least he did what he wanted to do. If he confused his daughter, if he confused himself, if he tortured both of them with what he did, at least he went ahead and worked it all out on Kitty's body and let the girl know that she was nothing but a whore in her own father's eyes. Jim Jenson preferred - to live with his fantasy and be hypocritical about the whole thing. He thought his daughter was a whore too, but he would never let Wanda know that.
With Wanda, he would always play the righteous father, the saintly man who had no lust at all in his heart, no lust for her and no madness either. But that madness was there and Jim Jenson was letting it show now with Kitty.
As much as she hated him though, the blonde could not stop sucking the man's cock.
She realized that she had to carry through with this one in order to legally go on to the next man, the next number, in order to make history a"d let everyone in town know that she was the slut of sluts in Victory, Missouri.
Kitty had to suck his cock and had to let him come in her mouth.
She worked on it diligently. She wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.
She wanted to get the filthy father of her best friend out of her fucking sight for good.
She sucked and sucked and sucked. She moved her mouth back to the base of the cock and felt the male meat fill up her mouth and throat. It seemed to vibrate in there, to vibrate with fatherly lust for a daughter.
It was sick lust, she thought, the sickest that she had ever encountered.
But she continued to suck on the cock and let it fill her throat. She continued to work on it.
She wanted this bastard father to hurry up and come.
Kitty felt Jim Jenson's coarse cock hair tickle her nose as the cock ran down her girlish, sluttish throat.
And then the father of her best friend erupted in an orgasm. He grabbed her head and held her on his cock as he came down her throat.
She tried to swallow all of the come, knowing that she would have to swallow it, knowing that she was too weak from fucking and sucking to fight the man. But she almost gagged when she heard him speak again. She almost gagged with disgust at what the man was saying to her--in his mind, what he was saying to his own daughter.
"Take that come, Wanda. Take Daddy's come into your fucking, whore throat. Swallow Daddy's come, you filthy, little bitch. Daddy has been wanting to give you that come for years. Oh, Wanda, swallow that fucking come!"
Kitty took as much of the come as she could and then, with a giant rush of heated anger in her body, she fought the man and jerked her head away from his body, jerked her mouth off his worthless, fatherly cock.
It was sick! Perverted!
Wanda was not at all like Kitty! Wanda was not a fucking slut!
Wanda was a good girl who liked good fucking!
Wanda was Kitty's best friend!
Kitty knew that she had to do something to get revenge on that bastard, to get revenge for Wanda. And she did it naturally, as naturally as anything in the whole, fucking world, as naturally as Wanda fucked in a healthy, wholesome way.
The blonde grabbed his still coming cock and put the tip of it in her mouth and - bit down hard, "Jesus! God! You fucking bitch!"
Jim Jenson screamed in his pain and hit Kitty on the side of the head with his fist.
The blonde let the bleeding cock slip out of her mouth as she fell to the floor.
The blow on her head, hurt and she had trouble focusing her eyes when she looked up.
But she knew that Jim Jenson was in pain. She could see the blurred vision of the naked man bouncing around the room; holding onto his cock. She could hear his screams of agony.
And she knew that he was bleeding too.
Kitty had gotten her revenge on Wanda's father, the sweet, bloody revenge for the way that the man thought about his daughter in the darkest, most secret parts of his brain.
The blonde was tired and her head was filled with pain.
But she started to laugh just the same, to giggle at her moment of revenge.
And the door came open and the men poured into the room and looked at Jim Jenson and his bleeding cock and some of them started to laugh too as the man bounced around the room and continued to yell and scream.
"Fucking bitch bit me! Fucking slut!
Worthless cunt! Ought to kill her!"
Before his cries were drowned out by the waves that laughter that the men sent through the room, she heard Jim Jenson make one more, very meaningful curse.
"Fucking bitch is my daughter's best friend! My daughter's a fucking whore too!"
And that stopped some of the men from laughing at Jim. Kitty could tell that some of those men were repulsed by what Jim Jenson had said in his agony.
And then, as her vision cleared, Kitty looked toward the door and gasped.
She saw him standing there with a little, portable record player in his arms.
And she saw him looking down on her and looking at all the other men and looking at Jim Jenson, naked and bleeding and cursing.
And she saw the hurt surprise and shock on her father's face.
Through the laughter, through the noise of the crowd, Kitty heard her father's soft and sad voice ring true in her eyes.
"Too late," the sad man said. "I am too late."
And then she saw her father turn and walk away from the room, carrying the phonograph in his arms like a baby.
And she called out to him, even though she already knew that she had hurt him and lost him forever.
"Daddy!" she cried. "Come back, Daddy! I love you, Daddy! I love you!"
But the teen-ager knew that her father probably did not hear her cries.
He would not be able to hear her over the noise that all the other men were making.
She looked up and saw Jeff Morrison standing there, saw him through the tears that flooded her own blue eyes, and she figured that she might as well do it, that she might as well make history when she had the chance. She had nothing else to live for now.
"Send in the next one, Jeff," she sighed.
And Jeff turned and started pushing the men out of the bedroom and he cried out to them as he pushed, as he tried to control the crowd.
"Number nineteen! Number nineteen! Are you ready, number nineteen?"
Kitty saw the big man come storming through the crowd in the hallway, waving a little piece of paper in his hand.
"I got nineteen," he said. "I am number nineteen."
Jeff too the paper from the big man and looked at it and nodded.
"You're next, Buddy," he said.
Then Jeff glanced at Kitty and grinned. "Meet number nineteen," he said.
The girl grinned at the man like the whore that she knew that she was.
"Hello, number nineteen," she said.
"My name is Joe Tom. I work at the plant. I am real pleased to meet you."
And the man actually stuck out his hand to shake Kitty's.
But the teen-ager did not shake his hand. She just turned around and went back into her room. Number nineteen followed her. He started to take off his clothes there in the bedroom as Kitty shut the door on the noise from the crowd outside.
"You ain't gonna bite me now, are you?" the man asked, a little worried.
Kitty just laughed.
"No," she assured good old number nineteen, "I have done my biting for the day."
"Good," the man said, grinning rather sheepishly.
Kitty watched the man as he took off his clothes and then she asked him a question.
"Do you have any daughters, Nineteen, I mean Tom."
"Joe Tom."
"Joe Tom. Do you have any daughters like me?"
"Nope. Sure don't. Never got married. Never found the right girl, I guess."
By then number nineteen was naked. He had a strong,, hairy body with a big cock. He looked something like a real animal, Kitty thought.
But then she reminded herself that they were all animals.
At least this one, she thought, did not have a daughter. He would never have to suffer the pain that a daughter could give a father. And he would never be able to inflict the pain on any girl the way that most "fathers inflicted pain on their daughters.
In fact, Joe Tom seemed rather nice in his animalistic way.
Kitty dropped to her knees in front of him and lifted his fat cock up and put it in her mouth.
